Only Angel [h.s]

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

The sun slowly began to flood the bedroom, the rays desperately trying to seep into the dark room as Isabel stirred in her sleep. Her body was sprawled across the bed, the sheets wrapped around her small frame hugging her in warmth. Her brown hair was in knots across her soft features, as she stretched her arms across the bed, prying a single eye open; she winced at the sunlight streaming through. 

Raising her head, her hand went to wipe the drool off the corner of her mouth as she took in a moment to realise where she was. Jolting awake, Isabel sat up and looked around the vast space before her, her lips parting at the sight. 

The bedroom had not changed, still the same as if it were trapped in a time warp. The bed was still at the centre of the bedroom, the two white bedside tables on either side. The woodened bedpost still standing tall, with the grand light fixture in the centre of the ceiling. The three large bedroom windows all strained in the same white curtains, with the T.V facing Isabel; the fireplace sitting just below. 

Each of the brown wooden doors were shut, a shining gold handle on each one. The one by the right hand corner led to the hallway and the one the left hand side of the T.V led to the bathroom and wardrobe. Even the soft sheets felt familiar as Isabel held her head trying to think what happened.

Sliding off the bed, Isabel glanced down to see she was wearing a black tee-shirt and her underwear. She remembered Harry pulling her towards the bedroom, after making her drink two glasses of water and removing most of her makeup. She remembered him throwing the top at her, before she passed out. 

Stepping into the hallway, she winced at the stream of light and looked around. It was still the same, nothing had been changed. The only thing she noted was the new carpet upon the staircase. Even the art stayed the same on the wall and she didn't look at the pictures hanging up. 

Descending down the stairs, she walked the familiar route towards the kitchen and stopped short. Her breath catching in her throat, as Harry stood in the large kitchen. His back was not facing her, as he seemed to stand by the stove. A coffee mug sat on his right, as he seemed to continue cook. The humming of the radio playing softly. 

Making her presence known, Isabel walked into the kitchen pulling down his shirt and feeling exposed. Harry didn't bother to acknowledge her, though he was well aware upon seeing her reflection in the white tiles against the stove top. His lips curved into a smirk, seeing her feeble attempts to pull down the top as she slid on the breakfast bar. 

Harry didn't say anything, only plating up her food and his own before facing her. She looked tired, confused and somewhat alarmed. This only caused his smirk to widen, as he placed the pule of food in front of her, along with her usual cup of tea and orange juice before sitting opposite on the other end of the white marble top. 

"Morning, how's your heard?"

Isabel looked at the plate of food, then up at Harry with a wary look in her eye. Her hands pushed the plate aside, reaching for the white mug, her hands wrapping around it as she sniffled. 

"It's fine.." her voice trailed off, blinking a few times as Harry grinned at her. He was enjoying this, that much was obvious. 

"Good. Fortunately you weren't sick and fell asleep quite quickly. Not sure if it was the alcohol or the shock of being back here," he chuckled, seeing her shift in her seat as Harry took a bite out of his breakfast.