Regal [h.s au]

46. Hard liquor

HARRY

"Harry, get up."

Releasing a guttural groan, I throw my arm over my face and shield my eyes with the crook of my elbow. I can feel the chilly air caressing the bare skin of my torso, the sheet pulled up to my abdomen doing little to provide me with warmth. My heavy eyelids are almost plastered over my eyes, unabling me from opening them.

"Look at yourself, what have you turned into?" My father asks, sighing in disappointment.

"Leave," I murmur with a deep rasp in my voice, already feeling myself getting annoyed.

"How about you show some respect to your father?" I hear him demand before the sheet is violently pulled off my body, exposing me fully to the cold air, goosebumps arising on the surface of my skin.

I quickly push myself up into a sitting position and a few bones in my back crack, a deep frown etching itself onto my features, eyelids now barely opened to the half. I feel dizzy from the sudden quick motion, pressing my thumb and forefinger into my eye sockets to rub them and erase the stinging sensation cause by tiredness. "And how about you show some respect to my sleeping schedule?"

His eyebrows draw in a frown above his sad blue eyes, his fingers running through his unruly brown locks resembling mine. He glances around my cabin, kicking one of the many empty bottles of rum laying on the floor with the tip of his boot, making it roll around briefly. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself, son?"

Rolling my eyes, I cover my face with my palms, expelling a deep, tired sigh. My head is pounding, the pain making me more irritable than usual. "What do you want, father? I am in no mood for your lectures."

"I want to talk to you-"

"No."

"I said I want to talk. So clean up and get out. Now." His voice is firm and filled with authority, icy eyes blazing with anger.

My glare directed at him morphs into a look of resignation, my jaw clenching as I shift my gaze away. "Fine."

When he leaves me to get ready for the day, I clean myself the best I can with a bar of soap and seawater contained in two barrels set in the corner of the small cabin. We use seawater for just about everything considering the one meant for drinking is very precious and a luxury.

I glance at the wrinkled messy sheets covering my bed, dozens of empty bottles and my worn clothes scattered around, not bothering to clean any of it. Flashes of the last night run through my mind, not enough for me to get a clear picture of everything I did, but enough for me to know I wasn't pleasant. I never am when I drink.

With a white ruffled shirt exposing my collarbones, tight black trousers and boots covering my feet, I leave my cabin, instantly inhaling a lungful of fresh air. I lift my hand and cover the sun with my palm, eyes squinting as the sunlight painfully makes them sting. Glancing over the deck, I locate my father standing near the railing, gazing at the sea. Orders are being shouted as the crew gets busy with making sure everything is functioning on the sailing ship, going about like ants to tend to their duties.

Silently, I approach my father and stand beside him, but keep a reasonable distance between us. Any emotions I might feel are carefully concealed with a blank expression as I glance at him sideways, waiting for him to speak. "Well?"

He keeps his gaze at the horizon. "For how long are you going to keep this up, Harry? Your behaviour needs to change."

"Another lecture, oh my. And I don't even have a notebook to write everything down!" Sarcasm is thick in my tone, eyes rolling nonchalantly.