I really wish I didn't notice all the small details, it just seems to make everything more complicated. "Actually..." I trail off, bringing my hand up to mess through my hair and pull my lips to the side wondering if I should even mention it. I know she's going to ask me about it, try and figure out what it means and I don't know if I can deal with that because not even I know what it means. "The past two days, I wrote something new" I tell her, watching her brows shoot up in surprise. "First time since I started it I didn't write Gizmo" Before Mel can respond, I say something else to distract her, not ready to figure out what this shit with my journal means. "That woman is back" I tell her, and her face drops into a sympathetic expression "The one in my nightmares, she's back again" ~•~ I know I should be savouring this time that mum is away, however, I'm sat on the couch twiddling my thumbs over what to do. This has been what it's been like since I got home from my psychology appointment. I'm trying to relax, but trying to relax is stressing me out because I don't know how to relax. I spent a good hour just walking around the house aimlessly, figuring out what to do. I never use to be this bad, it's gotten worse over the last 24 months, and the last 12 in particular. I almost don't know what to do with my day when it doesn't involve only existing to cater to someone else, I've forgotten what it's like to wake up and just do what I feel like doing. What do I even feel like doing any more? I don't even remember the things I use to enjoy. My passions seem like complete strangers, a lover I once had that has now turned into someone I feel like I've never even met. I just feel nothing. Three loud knocks at my front door grab my attention, and I look towards it, staring at it like it just spoke German. Another two knocks have me certain I'm not hearing things and I glare at it with suspicious squinted eyes as I stand from the couch and walk towards it. Who the hell is at my house? It's almost 7, I swear if it's another sales person trying to sell me a vacuum I'm going to ram it so far down their throat they'll be able to hoover their own kidneys dry. I grab the door handle, waiting for a moment to settle my apprehension and turn the knob, pulling the door open and as soon as those green eyes hit mine, I'm slamming the door closed faster than a speeding bullet. Unfortunately, because the universe hates me and this asshole apparently has cat like reflexes, he catches the door before it slams, pressing his palm flat against it to keep it from locking shut. I step back as he pushes the door open, standing in the doorway to lean a casual shoulder against the frame and I clench my fists at my sides; staring at him bewildered and fucking irritated. I take what I said back, I do feel something - homicidal. "You always answer your door like that?" Harry asks, pushing his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket that's decorated with various patches, pins and studded spikes along the shoulders and collar. I glance at the rest of his outfit, a loose distressed white band shirt and black torn up skinny jeans; complimented with a pair of scuffed up vans shoes that have definitely seen better days. Why is there a curly haired member of the Sex Pistols at my door? "What are you doing here?" I ask, keeping my voice blunt and fold my arms over my chest. Harry tilts his head, running his eyes over my figure and purses his lips "We had plans for 7, and it's now 7" I scrunch my face up, throwing my hands out at my sides in disbelief "Did your mother punt you against a wall as a baby? Or are you literally that dense? What part of I'm not going out with you sounded like 'Come to my house'?" Harry lifts his brows, scroffing out a laugh through his nose with a wide grin "I bet your dates have a real blast picking you up, you always this much of a sweet talker?" I squint at him, blinking and wondering why he is still here or still talking "I don't go on dates" "I never would have noticed" he deadpans, wetting his lips and relaxing against the doorway; showing he has no intention of leaving. I resist the urge to salute him with my middle finger, instead gesture towards the doorway "Well, listen smirky, for the hundredth time - I'm not going on a date with you, sorry to disappoint you - so you can leave now" "It's not a date" he says, completely ignoring everything else I just said. "We're just hanging out" Only hanging I'd be doing with you would involve me, a noose and a tree branch, and I'd much prefer that to going any where with this dickhead. "I don't care if we were spending time together to cure cancer - not happening" I dismiss, pointing firmly and raising my brows to prove my point. "You sure about that?" he asks, looking pleased with himself. He pulls his hand from his pocket, holding a small ceramic ornament of a pink pig on a string, with two gold angel wings. Harry turns the ornament in his hand, inspecting it, then dangles it by the string in front of him and looks to me with that damn dimple pulling into his cheek "If I remember correctly, you said unless I saw a pig with wings, we weren't going out. Amazing what trinkets you can find at a dollar store" I stare at the little pink pig, even complimented with a halo; trying with everything in me not to burst out laughing. That cocky fucking bastard literally went and bought a pig with wings. I refuse to laugh at this, I'm too stubborn and I'm even more irritated that I actually find it funny and slightly... Slightly endearing. I scrunch my lips, fighting a smile and trying to hold my annoyed composure and he flicks his eyes from the pig back to me "So, unless you wanna get changed - you ready to go?" I chew on the inside of my cheek, glaring at the pig and hate that, that bullshit ceramic boar is wavering my resolve with this man. I swear even the damn pig is smirking at me. "You're really trying to blackmail me with a pig right now aren't you?" I say, shaking my head still trying to get over the fact he actually went and did that. I'm trying to make sense in my head of why it's getting under my skin. Harry clicks his tongue, tutting me "This isn't blackmail, you made up the rules sweetheart not me - I'm just playing by them." "You aren't dropping this are you?" I ask, honestly considering just getting this over with so he can see once and for all that I am not the person he wants to be spending time with. I can't explain why I'm even considering this. He's really only shooting himself in the foot with this, what ever idea he has of who he thinks I am in his head, is sorely fucking mistaken. If he actually knew me, he would not want to be spending time with me. "Clever girl" he nods with a smug lift of his chin. For fuck sake. I huff, bringing my hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose and scrunch my eyes closed, muttering to myself "Fine. I can't believe I'm fucking agreeing to this over a damn ornament - I can already tell I'm going to regret this" "Don't judge the night before its even began love" Harry grins, looking triumphant and he shoves the pig back in his pocket; bringing his hand up to mess through his untamed hair and pushing away from his face. "You never know, you might even have fun"