‹ Prequel: Heels Over Head
Still Mine
Chapter Two
Andrea’s POV
Friday morning sprung upon me quicker than that essay you thought you had a week to write. My crappy Venetian blinds fell down for the fourth time in the past two weeks, waking me up in a disgusting manner. I remember looking at the clock, and seeing that it was 8 o clock. Immediately, I was presented with two options. Option one, get up, get washed and dressed, and rush like the white rabbit on speed in order to get to the lecture on time. Option two, turn over and go back to sleep. And as appealing as the second option seemed, I knew which one I’d have to go for.
Fifteen minutes later and I’d managed to fall out of the shower, hit my head on the toilet seat and cut myself. It wasn’t anything serious, but I had the feeling it was going to be ‘one of those days’. And it carried on like this. The bread had mould on it, the milk had lumps in it, my shoes were soaking wet from the day before when it had rained non-stop, and my rent bill had just come through the door with a random extra £50 on it that I hadn’t been expecting. By the time I was ready to leave, I wished more than anything that I’d chosen the second option and gone back to bed.
However the second I stepped outside of the apartment blocks, everything seemed a little better. The sun was shining and, although it wasn’t actually warm whatsoever, it felt like a nice day. I wandered over to the bike shed and began unlocking my bike, the sexy beast (it’s really not, it is a rusty piece of junk). And that is when my day got interesting.
Harry’s POV
Morning glory. Something I’d had for far too long that morning. Didn’t help that when I looked out the window, the first thing I saw was Andrea fall off her bike and land with her legs in the air. I had to go see what was going on. I’d already practically wet myself laughing anyway.
“Pink knickers today huh? I like it.” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet again. It was then that I realised that she in fact had blood all down the side of her face. “Bloody hell! How the hell did you manage that!? Oh god… come here…” She was stumbling around like a drunk moron, holding onto my arm tighter than a woman giving birth.
“Pretty sure that car just hit me…?” She slurred. Sure as hell, there was a blue Fiat with a bike-sized dent on it reversing and trying to drive off. I didn’t have the energy in me to start chasing it, not first thing in the morning. I looked down at her, she looked totally out of it. She kept opening her mouth like a goldfish; trying to talk but obviously failing.
“Pretty sure… hit me…”
Yeah, she was definitely gonna need to be taken to A&E.
“Pretty… just…”
Immediately.
Third person’s POV
Four hours later, and they were still sitting in the A&E waiting room. They’d both fallen asleep, Harry with his head flung backwards and mouth wide open, Andrea slumped on his shoulder with a huge wad of bandages stuck to the side of her head. When Andrea was finally called in, the bleeding had long ago stopped and all they did was gave her some medicated ice pack thing.
“Are you kiddin’ me?” Harry moaned, getting to his feet as Andrea ambled out of the ward with an ice pack pressed to the side of her face. “Are you actually, seriously, bloody kiddin’ me!?”
“What?” Andrea asked, throwing her bag over her shoulder.
“Four hours! Four hours of my freakin’ day wasted, sitting in this godforsaken place with y--”
“Woah woah woah. Note the fact that I didn’t ask to you come with me? You could have gone home ages ago.”
He stopped in his tracks, unlighted cigarette in his hand and stupefied expression on his face.
“Oh yeah. Damn.”
They stepped out into the freezing British winter, both shuddering as a disgustingly cold wind reminded them that it was, in fact, November.
“Well in that case, see ya later, pink-panties.” Harry said, lighting his cigarette and walking off in the direction of his Audi.
He was a right asshole. You couldn’t really describe him in any other way. Andrea stood there, head throbbing and slightly more lumpy than it had been that morning, wondering how the hell she’d get home. Her flat was at least eight miles away. Spotting a bus stop in the distance, she sighed and began dragging her feet towards it. She was wearing a long jumper, a pair of knee-high socks and boots; and yet she still found herself freezing half to death. Standing at the bus stop was like torture, even though she’d only been standing there for about five minutes. There was some chav guy blasting his typical chav music from his phone, a little old woman with about a million dogs tying to shag her leg, and an old man that wouldn’t stop looking at her chest area. She didn’t even have big boobs, for goodness’ sake.
One minute later, and she was sure she was going to kill herself.
“Oi, you getting’ in, or do you actually wanna get a trampy bus with these retards?”
Andrea turned around to see Harry sitting in his Audi, sunglasses on, cigarette sticking out of his mouth. Unfortunately, she couldn’t help but find him incredibly gorgeous, if not a little chauvinistic. He’d driven up by the bus stop, leaning out of the window like a true rich douchebag.
“You… you just said you were going?” Andrea replied, staring confused into the car as Harry blew cigarette smoke into her face. “And stop doing that. It stinks.”
“Nah, I said ‘see ya later’. I didn’t specify how much later I’d see you. Turned out, wasn’t that long. Now get in the bloody car, before I kidnap you.”
The old woman with the dogs looked on in disgust, pulling a face that looked as if one of her dogs had force-fed her their poo.
“Oh stop staring you old bag. I’m kidding. She’s my wife. Now get in the car darling, we’ve got to pick up the kids.”
Andrea did not disobey.
Friday morning sprung upon me quicker than that essay you thought you had a week to write. My crappy Venetian blinds fell down for the fourth time in the past two weeks, waking me up in a disgusting manner. I remember looking at the clock, and seeing that it was 8 o clock. Immediately, I was presented with two options. Option one, get up, get washed and dressed, and rush like the white rabbit on speed in order to get to the lecture on time. Option two, turn over and go back to sleep. And as appealing as the second option seemed, I knew which one I’d have to go for.
Fifteen minutes later and I’d managed to fall out of the shower, hit my head on the toilet seat and cut myself. It wasn’t anything serious, but I had the feeling it was going to be ‘one of those days’. And it carried on like this. The bread had mould on it, the milk had lumps in it, my shoes were soaking wet from the day before when it had rained non-stop, and my rent bill had just come through the door with a random extra £50 on it that I hadn’t been expecting. By the time I was ready to leave, I wished more than anything that I’d chosen the second option and gone back to bed.
However the second I stepped outside of the apartment blocks, everything seemed a little better. The sun was shining and, although it wasn’t actually warm whatsoever, it felt like a nice day. I wandered over to the bike shed and began unlocking my bike, the sexy beast (it’s really not, it is a rusty piece of junk). And that is when my day got interesting.
Harry’s POV
Morning glory. Something I’d had for far too long that morning. Didn’t help that when I looked out the window, the first thing I saw was Andrea fall off her bike and land with her legs in the air. I had to go see what was going on. I’d already practically wet myself laughing anyway.
“Pink knickers today huh? I like it.” I said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet again. It was then that I realised that she in fact had blood all down the side of her face. “Bloody hell! How the hell did you manage that!? Oh god… come here…” She was stumbling around like a drunk moron, holding onto my arm tighter than a woman giving birth.
“Pretty sure that car just hit me…?” She slurred. Sure as hell, there was a blue Fiat with a bike-sized dent on it reversing and trying to drive off. I didn’t have the energy in me to start chasing it, not first thing in the morning. I looked down at her, she looked totally out of it. She kept opening her mouth like a goldfish; trying to talk but obviously failing.
“Pretty sure… hit me…”
Yeah, she was definitely gonna need to be taken to A&E.
“Pretty… just…”
Immediately.
Third person’s POV
Four hours later, and they were still sitting in the A&E waiting room. They’d both fallen asleep, Harry with his head flung backwards and mouth wide open, Andrea slumped on his shoulder with a huge wad of bandages stuck to the side of her head. When Andrea was finally called in, the bleeding had long ago stopped and all they did was gave her some medicated ice pack thing.
“Are you kiddin’ me?” Harry moaned, getting to his feet as Andrea ambled out of the ward with an ice pack pressed to the side of her face. “Are you actually, seriously, bloody kiddin’ me!?”
“What?” Andrea asked, throwing her bag over her shoulder.
“Four hours! Four hours of my freakin’ day wasted, sitting in this godforsaken place with y--”
“Woah woah woah. Note the fact that I didn’t ask to you come with me? You could have gone home ages ago.”
He stopped in his tracks, unlighted cigarette in his hand and stupefied expression on his face.
“Oh yeah. Damn.”
They stepped out into the freezing British winter, both shuddering as a disgustingly cold wind reminded them that it was, in fact, November.
“Well in that case, see ya later, pink-panties.” Harry said, lighting his cigarette and walking off in the direction of his Audi.
He was a right asshole. You couldn’t really describe him in any other way. Andrea stood there, head throbbing and slightly more lumpy than it had been that morning, wondering how the hell she’d get home. Her flat was at least eight miles away. Spotting a bus stop in the distance, she sighed and began dragging her feet towards it. She was wearing a long jumper, a pair of knee-high socks and boots; and yet she still found herself freezing half to death. Standing at the bus stop was like torture, even though she’d only been standing there for about five minutes. There was some chav guy blasting his typical chav music from his phone, a little old woman with about a million dogs tying to shag her leg, and an old man that wouldn’t stop looking at her chest area. She didn’t even have big boobs, for goodness’ sake.
One minute later, and she was sure she was going to kill herself.
“Oi, you getting’ in, or do you actually wanna get a trampy bus with these retards?”
Andrea turned around to see Harry sitting in his Audi, sunglasses on, cigarette sticking out of his mouth. Unfortunately, she couldn’t help but find him incredibly gorgeous, if not a little chauvinistic. He’d driven up by the bus stop, leaning out of the window like a true rich douchebag.
“You… you just said you were going?” Andrea replied, staring confused into the car as Harry blew cigarette smoke into her face. “And stop doing that. It stinks.”
“Nah, I said ‘see ya later’. I didn’t specify how much later I’d see you. Turned out, wasn’t that long. Now get in the bloody car, before I kidnap you.”
The old woman with the dogs looked on in disgust, pulling a face that looked as if one of her dogs had force-fed her their poo.
“Oh stop staring you old bag. I’m kidding. She’s my wife. Now get in the car darling, we’ve got to pick up the kids.”
Andrea did not disobey.