intolerable || h.s. au

two.

two.

"I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door..." - From Eden by Hozier.

River.

"Now, I want you to look good for your interview, so I expect a smart and polished lady by the time I see you downstairs. Am I clear?" My mother demands, while I sit on my bed. "Also, your interview is in less than an hour." 

"Alright mother. You can leave now." I groan in annoyance. I love this woman to pieces, but the fact that she's supervising my clothing choices was now getting a little overbearing.

My mother scurries away downstairs and I try to find suitable attire for my job interview. 

To say I was nervous was an understatement. This job could be the highlight of my life, the huge break my parents and I were in need of.

I wear a beautiful black pencil skirt that was lodged in the furthest part of my closet, and a maroon shirt to compliment the curves on my body. My spotty maroon pumps were just sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for me to scoop them in my arms. Instead I slip them on my feet, hoping to the God above that they still fit.

With one last glance behind me, I grab my small hand bag and make my way down the stairs of our small, but cosy house. Before I had the chance to bolt out the door, my mother and father catch me. 

"Oh, look at her Robert, doesn't she look so grown up." My mother gushes, making her way towards me with her arms open. I groan and stand as still as possible, knowing my mum she would glue me down for a good five minutes if I tried to escape her lethal embrace. 

"Mum, I have to go. I'm going to be late." I groan, and to my surprise she lets me go. 

"Go smash that interview." My father calls out as I leave.

It seems to be a twenty-minute walk and if I am fast enough I will be at the Styles' residents a few minutes earlier than expected. The only thing I was dreading was the walk there in my spotty pumps. I probably should have worn something a little more suitable for walking. Or maybe I was dreading the fact that, just maybe, I would be met face to face with the rude voice on the phone. I hope he was as ugly as his attitude.

My feet were pumping against the floor, faster than I had ever done before. I had just five minutes to make it to the interview and I was still ten minutes away. Darn these stupid pumps. Hopefully my elegant look would make up for my tardy punctuality.

My small body raced past the smoky, dry London air. It wasn't that bad when you got used to it trust me. I was nearly there. I could see the gates to their home? Mansion? Whatever they wanted to call it. I looked at the watch on my wrist and saw that I was already three minutes late, maybe they wouldn't mind?

I sucked in a breath as I entered their driveway. I knock on their door.

As soon as the heavy black door opened it revealed a small brunette girl. Her sparkly hazel eyes were something I instantly envied.

"Hi there, is your mum home?" I ask the petite girl, who was just peaking past the door.

"Sophie, how many times have I told you not to open the door without our permission?" The same husky voice I heard on the phone is calling behind the door, and I'm already internally groaning.

The door is whipped open and no longer stands the little girl.

The man standing in front of me was a lot taller than I had imagined, not so broad but had muscle. He had brown curls that fell loosely above his shoulders. His green eyes did not match the little girls who had scampered off, though some features showed the same. He was a sight, a very appealing sight, unfortunately.