19|nineteen

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I lean my head against my bay window, tear-like raindrops weep down and across the glass surface. I lift up my hand to trace the shapes that the water was creating, the only sound registering in my brain was the muffled storm proceeding outside and my steady breaths.

Inhale, exhale.

A flash of lightning whizzes through the evening sky, illuminating my bedroom, casting shadows on aimless objects

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A flash of lightning whizzes through the evening sky, illuminating my bedroom, casting shadows on aimless objects. I watch in fascination.

I've never been one of those girls who was terrified of thunderstorms. I have a fond memory of when I was about 6 years old and Ava was 7. Now, she's always been the scaredy-cat sister, scared of anything that moved. I, however, wasn't and I took proud in that fact.

It was a stormy night, one of the worst we'd ever had. We used to live in a lovely flat on the beachfront, on the top floor over-looking the sea. So, whenever a storm came, you could see the waves crashing beautifully together, mesmerising you.

Ava was crying and screaming, hiding under mum and dads bedsheets, my mother smoothing her hair and whispering sweet little things into her ear. I on the other hand, had my face pressed up to the window, taking in every raindrop, thunder bolt and wave. I absolutely loved storms and I still do, even up to this day.

A loud crash of thunder brings me out of my daydream and I think that everything is okay until I hear a girlish, high-pitched scream coming from downstairs. I roll my eyes, knowing it's Luke.

Quickly, I stand up and open my door, greeted by darkness. The power has gone out. I didn't know this because I had turned my lights off, wanting to get the full experience of the lightning.

"Luke?" I shout, trying to locate his whereabouts.

"Mia? Where are you? Please help me!" He shrieks back, earning a loud giggle from me. "Stop laughing! It's not funny, I'm scared of the dark!"

Turning on the light on my phone, I find my way downstairs and am greeted by a rather scared looking Luke, curled up into a ball in the couch, head buried into his knees.

I shine the light on him, trying to catch his attention. Nothing. I tiptoe over to him, feet clad in fuzzy socks.

I prod his shoulder and he lets out another girlish squeal, lashing out and landing on the floor. My hand flies to my mouth as I take in what has just happened.

He sits up, rubbing his elbow and a pout on his face. I take one look at him and burst out laughing, him laughing with me.

"Wow, Luke. Classy." I get out, crossing my arms. He stands up and gives me a bow, then a curtsy, causing me to laugh all over again.

"Thank you very much, princess. Now, where do you keep the candles?"

It's been a few hours now and the power came back on about 10 minutes ago. We occupied ourselves by quizzing each other, learning things that we didn't know before.

my sister's man; lrhWhere stories live. Discover now