Snowfall [ h.s ]

eight

e i g h t 

          "Ollie," 

The sound was muffled, far off and groggy. It wasn't loud enough to rouse me completely, but I could feel myself being pulled out of unconsciousness against my will, reality attacking all my senses. My vision was still dark but the smell of expensive cologne tickled my nose, and the sound of someone's voice faintly registered in the back of my mind. Through the thick fog of sleep that muddled my thoughts, only a single rational one seemed to survive; Ollie wasn't my name. 

          "Ollie," 

Something that could easily be mistaken as an cannibalistic growl left my lips, my body moving subconsciously away from the source of the noise. Apart from my sense of smell and my hearing, the first thing I felt was the cool air making the hairs on my arms stand up, causing an epidemic of good bumps to rise on every patch of exposed skin. I frowned, burying myself deeper under the blankets before mumbling a barely coherent reply. 

          "Go 'way," 

What time was it? 

What day was it? 

What month was it? 

What year?

         "You're killing me. Ollie. Ollie - get up." 

My hands knotting around my sheets, I pulled them forcefully over my head with my face burried deep within my pillow. At least this way I'd suffocate before being woken up. Sleep was something that didn't come easy to me lately, not with the vivid nightmares, so I did everything in my power to take every second I got to my advantage. I wasn't very keen on mornings, and they usually put me in a horrible mood. It was practically a household rule not to wake me if I was sleeping, not if you valued your life anyways. 

The noise stopped, and all I could hear was the sound of my own breathing. Whoever it was had given up, which made me happier than it probably should have. Somewhere deep down I knew I should get up and be productive, but I wasn't strong enough to do it.  Muttering into my pillow, I settled back into a comfortable position, letting myself relax. But my moment of peace was short lived, because right when my guards fell the blankets were pulled out from under me and I found myself face down, cheek pressed to the cold, unforgiving hardwood floor. 

And that's when all Hell broke loose.

          "What in the everloving hell?!" 

I was off the floor and on my feet faster than someone who'd just been woken up should have been. Despite the icy chill in the air, heat rolled off of me in waves. My heart beat ferociously against my rib cage, my entire body tense. Heat surged through my body, fueling the bubble of anger in the pit of my stomach until it felt like it would burst. My eyes, still not fully adjusted to the light, searched the room for my target. I didn't think I could be any angrier than I was right then, but when I realized exactly who it was who'd decided to interrupt my sleep this morning I was quickly proven wrong. 

          "Have you lost your damn mind, Harry Styles?!" I seethed, the words coming out as a hiss through my clenched teeth. 

Usually I was able to cage in the frustration and store it away until it no longer mattered. I wasn't one to lose my top over small situations, and I prided myself into thinking that I was level headed. It took a lot of practice, and I had always been confident in my ability to always see logic. But it was early, much to early to be awake; and it was Harry. Of all people, it had to be Harry. Which is why all logic and level handedness flew out the theoretical window.