⠀ ⠀ ⠀ on break til 07.05.22 * ⠀˚✧ ⋆｡˚
❝ 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘦 ❞
never, in all his ten years of living,
would have thought that a girl
named after a spring flower would
be the most magical thin...
"𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍!" Her uncle's voice hollered from the bottom of the stairs, and she threw off her headphones.
"What, Tito Rico?" She yelled back down. George Harrison's guitar crooned out from the speakers in her headphones. Despite the sunshine and sweet reassurances in the lyrics, she felt irritated. Math refused to cooperate with her, her art teacher had a stick up her butt (as Mei told her), and Harry hadn't responded yet.
She thought she didn't have any expectations from him. She told herself she wouldn't have any expectations from him. Seeing his track record, her friend wouldn't reply to her anytime soon. But she got her hopes up, and it was January. Four months. Four bloody months.
Two weeks in without any letter, she thought he had died at his new school. Now, she was going to kill him herself.
Tito Rico yelled back up again, jarring her from her thoughts. "Stop yelling, and get down here!"
She rolled her eyes. He was the one who yelled at her first.
"I know you're rolling your eyes, Alon! Stop with the attitude!"
Groaning, she kicked her bunny fleece slippers on her feet, skidding across the wooden floors and flouncing down the stairs. Slowing down on the twelfth step — see, there it was again, the number twelve — she slapped the wall that jutted out from the side of the second floor and grinned. Before the school year started, Harry was the same height as her, or almost anyways. She couldn't even reach the top of the picture frames without tiptoeing. Now, she could smack her palm in the same spot without straining herself.
Tito Alan gave her a look from the bottom of the stairs, broom and dustpan moved to one hand. "Are you hitting the wall again?"
She hid her hand behind her back and scurried down the rest of the stairs "No?"
He sighed, flicking her on the forehead with his free hand. "Ay naku. You're going to dirty the walls again. Ipapalinis ko sayo—"
"Sorry, Tito Alan, Tito Rico was calling me earlier." She ducked under his hand, rushing to the living room. But she couldn't resist a final comment. "It's not even that dirty!"
