.Perfect Fantasy. |H.S.|

Chapter 26. Worthless Thoughts.

.Natalia.

All I wanted was to make my alone time enjoyable. Even though, at the end of the day, enjoyable was very far away from today's achievements. After my decision to tour town and do some sightseeing, I ended up walking about forty five minutes past rainy weather and gloomy phone shots. The patches of foliage gave some warmth to the scene, but it was a minor contrasting sight, against the heavy set of clouds that were quickly accumulating, predicting a possible night storm.

I walked past some beautiful homes and a couple of shops, but that was it. There was not much to see, and since there was nothing else to do in the middle of the afternoon I decided to clear my head by aimlessly taking my chance with one of the shops. It looked like an interesting choice, but I was already regretting my decision, not only finding out that it was not the kind of store I was expecting and there was a really intense woman, asking me where I was from and what was the story behind my injuries.

Like an idiot, I'd been forgetting the fact that my face was still bruised from the attack, and not only there were signs of the scarring, but the purple contusions were fading into a weird green and yellow shade on some parts. The fact that everyone in the house refused to comment on that part made me forget the unfortunate subject, and the shop woman even dared to ask if I was running away from home and my probable drunk husband.

So still embarrassed, disappointed on my sightseeing and tired from the very long walk back home, I changed out of my day clothes and into a pair of grey leggings and a long-sleeved white shirt.
I moved to the cold kitchen to find some leftovers to re heat, also picking the lone bottle of bubbly cold wine to treat myself, the mood to not feel anything was rising, and Harry or his family were not coming back yet from their London trip.
I took one the glass flutes and tried to recreate Anne's mix of orange juice and champagne, even though it was going to be a challenge to open it with just one hand. My fingers twisted the small aluminum thread and then moved the head of the cork up until it flew across the room, hitting the ceiling and then the top of my head, the drink foam spilling into the kitchen counter.

Fuck!
After cleaning the mess, my hand was alternating the quantities of the beverages, until the flute was almost filled, taking a long sip of it, and enjoying the pleasure of the drink in my veins.
But I was disappointed.

I'd thought that the drink was going to make me feel like it did that day, but after a couple of huge gulps, I realized with a lot of pathetic sadness, that the feeling of completeness was achieved after drinking this with the company of Harry's mom. I kept on drinking, anyway.

***

A few hours later, the door opened slowly and my breath caught at the discovery of the second living room of the house, a more private one with another huge screen mounted on the wall, heavy burgundy curtains covering a whole section of windows and the same mismatched chairs with lots of cushions and colors. Some of the curtains were closed and some of them were opened, and through them I could see the rain cascading heavily, a side of the garden and the whole driveway and entrance.

Deciding against some early sleep, I pulled the couch blanket over my body and settled back down on one of the chairs, then stuck my left arm out into the coffee table, fumbling for the remote, and flicked the TV on. The cat followed me around like my own shadow since day one, and was currently sitting on my lap, staring at the screen with his clever eyes as if waiting for me to make a choice on a movie.
Maybe this was the only cat I was going to actually like.
I didn't know what it was, if it was his persistence to stay with me or the fact that his presence was better than nothing. I was silently glad he was there to keep me company, my fingers stroking his fur in small circles, loving the warm feeling of him resting against my legs.