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I always update fast because there's never anything for me to do. I go to work, go home, drink green tea, then watch season five of The Office as a daily routine.

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chapter nineteen. feeling blue.

 feeling blue

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I like when recent details in your life casually fall into place, like it's meant to belong there. Almost as if the last part to complete the puzzle — no other pieces fit because it was just bewildering and unadjustable, but that one piece that isn't so peculiar fits and completes it. Rubs off a good feeling. One that isn't usually present in my routinely life.

I AWAKE WITH A blue feeling lounging around in my gut. It isn't a bad bluish feeling; like when Santa skips over your home during the holiday season. It's more of a positive blue feeling of tranquility and security — two important factors to have in your life because safety is everything. Keeping your sanity stable is everything, also. And my sanity is lying on the uncomfortable lounge floor beside me.

His hair dishevelled and covering the entirety of his face, but he looks peaceful. Calm and peaceful with his eyelids shut to a golden dream for only him to see. The brightest star in the galaxy is shining through the sheer curtains of the lounge beaming onto his lifeless figure. Giving his paling skin a beautiful glow.

I've never experienced this before.

With all of the many times Harry has slept over my house as I've slept over his, I've never seen him in this way. I've never intensively observed him sleep beside me — take in his beauty and his adolescent flaws. Like the unnoticeable peach fuzz around his mouth and a small amount of acne residing on his bottom chin. The obnoxious way he snores. Yet this makes Harry, Harry.

The odd way he rolls his tongue over his gums in his slumber that sparks a concerning noise — like Harry is croaking like a frog.

Although the weird things about Harry contrasts well with the great things about him. Like how he abruptly smiles in his sleep, or subconsciously lifts his knee to rub against my shin. Harry's a wild sleeper. All the same I watch him for some more minutes, thoroughly processing them before noticing a third party lying on the couch; Cara.

She's relaxed, mumbling incoherently into her phones speaker. I can't paint out everything she says until Cara mutters 'mum,' then I find myself climbing from the lounge floor to Cara's side. Intentionally ignoring the hard shove in my ribs from her elbow because my mother is smiling bright on Cara's iPhone screen. Brown eyes shining and skyscrapers in her background — she's in New York City. It isn't difficult to figure.

anobrain // narry auWhere stories live. Discover now