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Even if you know what's coming, you're never prepared for how it feels

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Even if you know what's coming, you're never prepared for how it feels

"Fuck," Avery curses as the hot water spills over her skin. She jumps back, holding her hand in pain. "You're so dumb, Avery. So dumb." The girl murmurs, hiding her irritated hand in the sleeve of her oversized sweater.

She couldn't sleep as always and decided to make herself a hot cup of tea, as always, and in the midst of doing so, the water spilled. The TV in the living room was still on, though she stopped watching it hours ago.

Do you know what's sadder than this? Bambi. I cried for three days with that movie. No, wait- two. 'Cause on the third day my mother killed herself so I was partially crying for that.

She couldn't even manage a small laugh at phoebe's joke as she turned the TV off, making her way back to the kitchen to boil yet another kettle of water. It was a quiet Thursday night. During the week the flat was always quiet, most of the time it felt like no one truly lived in the place. The only sounds to be heard from the building was the monstrous parties Sam, who had a flat just above Avery, would throw. Every weekend without fail a party would ensue and nine times out of ten wouldn't end until at least 5 AM.

To her surprise, on the night she had met Harry a party had not taken place, despite it being a Friday night. The next day she had seen Sam leave his flat in a black suit, and later found out that his mother had passed. Upon hearing the news Avery wanted to comfort him in some way. Let him know that things would be okay, even if she truly didn't know that. She later decided against it, as she and the boy had never had a real conversation with each other. Only quick hellos and silent waves when passing each other in the halls.

Most of the other residents looked at her as if she were a stranger. Like she was a monster because she didn't bake cookies for all her neighbors the first day she moved in.

The encounter with Harry was two weeks ago and since then Avery hasn't left the house, only to restock on necessities and to do her shift at the coffee shop. Each day after that meeting felt more and more unrealistic and sometimes, when she is lying awake at night, she thinks that she might have imagined the entire thing. That Harry had been a side effect of her neglected loneliness.

She poured water into her cup for the second time, this time with no spilling, and let the teabag steep. What's your deal?

As she takes the first sip of her tea, someone knocks on the door. Her gaze moves to the wooden door as she slowly lowers her cup. The clock read just past 4 AM as the knock repeats. She takes a deep breath and sets the cup down on the counter before slowly making her way to the door. Her shaking hand almost reaches for the handle before she catches herself, deciding that it would be wise to look through the peephole first.

On the other side of the door stands someone she least expected to see this early in the morning. Sam was rocking back and forth on her welcome mat. What was he doing here? They had never truly changed a word, nothing more than a polite hello.

He was about to knock again as Avery opened the door, he lowered his fist and she noticed that he had an envelope in his hand. "Oh hello." Sam smiled, putting his hands behind his back. He's wearing dark green, loose, checkered pants and a white shirt with the phrase 'I may be old but at least I got to see Don McLean' written on it. Sam wasn't much older than Avery was, so she didn't get the shirt.

"I have something for you," He leans forward, holding the envelope out towards her. "Someone dropped it off at my door with a note telling me to give it to you. Well, I guess it's you, as far as I know, there is no one else named Avery in the building."

"Yeah, that's me." She reaches for the envelope, on the front, it reads Avery in messy handwriting.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Sam frowns, noticing her tired appearance.

"No, no," Avery assures him with a nervous smile. "Uhm... Thank you. I'll... see you around.'' She mumbles before closing the door on him. Her ear pressed against the cold wood until she heard him walk away.

The white envelope in her hand felt light. Avery normally didn't get anything in the mail other than the occasional bill. There was no one to send her letters, so even though she had no idea who had written to her, she was happy to be receiving anything at all.

With a butter knife, she carefully opened it, and took out the piece of paper, and started to read.

Hello Avery,

I looked up your name yesterday and found out that it means the fairy or advice, which, in my opinion, are two very different things. Oh, and by the way, if your name is not Avery, please close this envelope and bring it to the girl called Avery. I know she lives in the house but I have no idea which flat belongs to her. So, if you could be so kind, please help me out and give this to her. If this is Avery, then this is Harry, just to clarify. The Harry who bought you the fish and chips and looks damn good while fighting trained boxers behind bars. You're probably wondering why you received this in the first place. Nest Friday I am having a birthday party, and I would love it if you'd come. I know this is incredibly random and we don't know each other very well, but I just really need to understand why you don't like seafood. Also, if you have a boyfriend, please tell him that I have absolutely no bad intentions. He is welcome to come if he would like. I am turning 22, you don't need to worry about bringing anything, but if you feel oh so inclined, I love cheap wine and music. My address is Clerkenwell Green 1 (London obviously) and the nearest tube station is Farringdon. The party starts at eight o'clock, but the cool people show up early. I hope you can make it,

Harry

P.S. you are the only one who received this masterpiece of an invitation, you should feel honored.

Ahh, to be back. Regular updates start now, I promise.

𝗦𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 I I  𝙃.𝙎.Where stories live. Discover now