He'll have to break all the rules to keep her, but first she has to break just one and let him in...
It's taken four years, but Anna Fray has finally put the past behind her. Mostly. She fills her days working in a bar and her nights watching bad ro...
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I scowled at the slit of sunlight that disturbed my sleep. I rolled lazily out of bed, grabbing the empty wine bottles on my way through the living room to the small galley kitchen. With each step, the bottles clinked together, highlighting the reason why my head felt like it could split in two.
In a practiced motion, I flipped on the kettle on my way to the bin, gingerly dropping the bottles in to avoid angering the demon living in my head. The way it pounded felt like the devil himself was playing bongos on my brain.
I popped an aspirin and made myself a coffee before yanking open one of the two cupboard doors that hid food behind them. I stared at the contents. There are only two viable breakfast options: a box of old cereal and a packet of digestives. I grabbed the cereal and trundled back to the living room. I didn't have any milk, so I settled for eating it dry from the box.
As I crunched, I made a mental note to go to the supermarket soon. Luckily, it had been a good month for hours at the bar. Even with rent, bills, and all the other chunks of money that disappeared every month, there was still a decent sum to see me through. It was one of the many perks of having no social life or hobbies beyond work and drinking myself to sleep.
I watched the coffee swirl in front of me, its fragrance permeating the air. With a long deep breath, its aroma soothed my mind and tamed my stomach. It was still complaining at the lack of food and abundance of alcohol swilling around in it. Despite feeling horrific, I was pleased I'd managed to sleep through the night. Now I just had to find some way to keep my mind busy for the rest of the day.
For most, a day off would be a blessing, but as I sat in the quiet flat, it felt like the walls were starting to close in. The silence was claustrophobic.
I threw myself off the sofa and stomped through the kitchen to the small bathroom tucked at the back of the flat. I wrenched the shower valve, hearing the way it protested before thundering to life.
While the ancient boiler clunked and groaned as it started to heat the water, I busied myself. The flat wasn't particularly small, but I could still hear the water pounding against the shower tray as I entered my bedroom at the opposite end.
I half-heartedly straightened out my bed covers. The sheet below needed washing, and the pillows were still crumpled, but I just hid it all under the cover.
The covers were just some generic, purple set I'd picked up from the discount store in town. They, like most things in the flat, had been a purchase of necessity rather than taste. I'd gotten them the day I signed for the flat, which I'd done on the same day Kelly offered me the job at the bar four years ago. At just sixteen, I had been lucky Kelly's friend was willing to let me rent it. Fortunately, they had owed her a favour, so they turned a blind eye to the fact I was legally too young to sign the contract. If they hadn't, I would most likely have become like all the other strays roaming the streets.
