The Perilous Nature of Lust // l.s.

4

Warning: Strong Alcoholism and Suicidal Thoughts

I strongly advise some tissues if you're an emotional one like me

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Harry woke up the next morning feeling just as bad as the night before. He wouldn't call two hours of waking up from nightmares ‘sleep’. But it was the most he'd done since John's death.

He felt completely drained of life.

Generally when Harry would wake up he’d have enough energy to get wash, dressed, get breakfast, perhaps exercise. But today that was out of the question. He didn't want to get up and leave the bed. If it weren't for his lousy alarm he would’ve gotten another hour or two of sleep in. He contemplated trying to go back to sleep but thought about his nightmares and realized it wasn't a good decision.

So there he laid; empty. Trying to find his emotions. He felt like nothing.

All of his rapid thoughts were eliminated with the appearance of his cat, Mona.

He smiled a little as the beautiful persian hopped on the comforter of the large king bed.

“Goodmorning my precious girl.” he said stroking fur. “You seem very bubbly.” She licked his fingers with her rough tongue and purred loudly. He chuckled. He rescued her five years ago, before he met John and held onto her since thing. She was his most valuable possession he believed. Even while he lived  in an eighty-million dollar mansion and owned almost a billion dollars in assets along with his deceased husband.

Mona was just more worth while. She had gotten through some of the hardest times of his life and nothing of money value could do that.

Well perhaps a cigarette, a glass of wine or two.

Speaking of, Harry stopped rubbing Mona and picked up his pack of Sobranie cocktail cigarettes and gold gas lighter, lit one, then took a drag. The smoke filled his lungs like air and he breathed it out feeling more relaxed as he did so.

That's more like it.

He had his eyes closed but when he opened them and saw Mona staring at him in disapproval.

He chuckled and took another drag.“Sorry Mona, I know you hate when I smoke but I can't help it when I'm stressed.” She meowed back and Harry took that as a ‘whatever’ because she just hopped off the bed and went to the door. All of a sudden there was a knock and Harry figured he knew who it was so he told them to come in.

His head maid Clare came in with a fresh batch of clothes and a smile on her face. “Goodmorning, Harry. How was your sleep?”

Harry shrugged. “Okay, if you could call it sleep.”

“Nightmares?” she asked knowing it's a constant thing Harry faced.

“Yeah.” Harry mumbled.

She frowned. “Well you're up now dear. Why haven't you washed up and had breakfast?”

He got up from his bed and sat at the lounge area in the corner of their room.

“I didn't feel like it.” He took another drag of his cigarette.

“Well tsk tsk Harry, you're smoking so early and before you've had anything to eat? This is bad for your health dear.” He ignored her just staring out the window.

I could care less about that.

She huffed in annoyance but finished putting away the rest of his clothes. She walked over to Harry and sat in the chair right in front of him. She grabbed his hand that wasn't occupied with the cigarette in hers and looked Harry in the eyes.