78

21.4K 561 2.7K
                                    

*・゚゚・*:

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

*・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・*

   Christmas was always my mother's favorite time of year. As soon as November hit, the Halloween decorations would be hastily put away in favor of us working together to lug the Christmas tree down from the attic that was much too tall for our living room's low ceilings, never allowing us to adorn the top with anything seeing as it was smushed against the chipping paint.

   Every night after a long day of school and work was complete, we'd pile up on the couch and spend hours watching festive films until it was so late that we'd both condemned ourselves to tired eyes the next morning, but we didn't care, far too concerned about keeping up the Christmas spirit than living in the real world of responsibility. Jane is probably the reason I've always lived in my own head instead of reality.

   Ever since she died, I've spent our favorite holiday alone. Granted, the first Christmas I suffered through instead of celebrating was spent with Harry and his family in Holmes Chapel right before the final One Direction performance on New Year's Eve, but even that felt wrong. Since then, each and every holiday season has been spent alone in my house with Olivia while all of my friends enjoy the warmth and laughter with their families.

   My friends are my family, but sometimes that fact makes me feel emptier than ever, because at times like this, Christmastime, they have their real families to go home to while I have none.

   But not this year.

   Sitting in the passenger seat of the cab that picked me up from my hotel, I lean my head against the window and watch the sky transform from a brilliant pink and gold to a deep purple. Once again, I find myself getting lost in one of the last beauties the world has to offer, admiring how easily the sky welcomes change every day when I've never been able to accept the smallest amount, but tonight, I'm hoping to change a lot.

   A small smile creeps up on my face when we pull up to Harry's house in the middle of London, what used to be ours

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

A small smile creeps up on my face when we pull up to Harry's house in the middle of London, what used to be ours. It looks exactly the same as I remember, just as quaint and homey as ever, but the brick barrier of protection surrounding the tall white walls that are illuminated under honey yellow street lamps seem more worn than they appeared last time I saw them. As I get closer, I notice small chips and cracks in the paint along with slightly grown over plants. The outdoor furniture looks more tattered, all of this suggesting that someone actually lives here versus when I first moved in and admired how fresh and new everything was.

Fine Line // H.S.Where stories live. Discover now