blue ✓

twenty five

disclaimer; some drug use

lola

The streetlight from outside glowed against my window, the gentle breeze blowing through the trees branches against the shadows on my bedroom walls. I lay against my bed frame, my legs dangling in relaxation and his voice flows through the phone against my ear.

"-and that's when we decided to try and sell my art, online of course." His tone was calm but excitement flowed in each letter.

"That's wonderful, Harry." I praise. "I'm proud of you."

Harry sighs. "I couldn't of done it without you around,"

I smile widely. "I haven't done anything."

"Oh but you have."

A comforting silence runs through the air, the phone relaxed against my skin and the gentle breath of Harry almost lulled me to sleep. This happened every night the past two weeks,  our phone calls would end up with one of us almost falling asleep–or sometimes actually dozing off–but it was wonderful, a warm sensation of knowing someone was there with you while you relaxed into the night.

I blink my heavy eyes open and let them rest on my open window, my heart jumps against my ribcage as a dark figure moves slowly at the edge of my window. I jolt my body up with a loud gasp, pushing my body to the window just as the figure falls down to the ground and disappears.

The phone was against the pillow and Harry's voice echoed in the background, my mind was muddled but I opened the window and threw half my body out into the cold air to search around for the figure.

My heart pounded in my ears and my hands trembled, my head twisted left and right and up and down but the figure was gone.

"Lola!?" Harry's voice washes against my ears and I return back to a reality, anxiety still running through my veins as I quickly grab the phone and hold it against my ear.

It was warm, not like the icy touch of my skin as I searched outside my window. "Someone was at my window."

"What?" Harry's voice screeched, making me flinch. "Did you see who it was?"

My heart thuds. "No, it was just a black figure and they disappeared almost instantly once I spotted them." My voice was strained, emotion in the pitch and quality.

Harry takes a breath. "You're tired, maybe you were just imagining it."

I shake my head furiously, tears brimming. "No I'm not," weak emotion falls from my lips. "I saw them, I saw someone at my window."

A sob escapes my mouth. "Are your parents home?"

"My mother is, but I can't tell her." I reply softly.

I can sense Harry's annoyance. "Why not?"

I felt so stupid explaining my anxious thoughts with Harry, although he said he understood I felt he didn't. My mother was a cruel creature at the best of times, I knew exactly what she would say and it wouldn't be in favour of me or my vision of a figure at my window. Harry questioned me again and again as to why I thought these things, but I couldn't explain to him the disguised devil my mother could be and she would use this against me and call me crazy or something. It obviously wouldn't be the first time she had–she used anything against me.

"Lock your window, close your curtains completely, and try and get some sleep, my love." Harry's voices lulled my body against the cushion of my bed, I gazed at the closed and concealed window.

"I have."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Harry."