𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝟏𝟖+] ✔

12

The rain pelts off the thick glass of the dome as I try to keep up with Eric. I'm pretty sure when he ordered me to get up an hour ago to jog, he had forgotten to add in that he gradually speeds up until I either fall flat on my face or my lungs stop working.

I think both may be my end.

"Faster."

Screw you.

"I'm trying," I retort through gritted teeth, a slight wheeze in my chest. "Can you not just slow down?"

He ignores me, like he has been doing since dragging me from the couch. I've had all but brief snaps from him, and not once has he given me any eye contact.

Note to self; the next time that he decides to approach you while drunk, stay the hell away and run for the hills in the morning.

He had ordered me to get the fuck up, tossing me shorts, which caused me to shamefully hide my underwear that peeked from beneath his shirt. He threw a snarky comment over his shoulder when he walked away, telling me that we were going for a run to follow the doctor's orders, dismissing my refusal, and waiting outside for nearly half an hour.

And he's still ignoring me, so much that I'm close to taking my trainer off and bouncing it off the back of his head and telling him to go F himself.

The silence from him is haunting, and it's either anger, embarrassment, shame, or regret. Probably all four. It is me after all. I wish he'd just stop and speak to me, put an end to this awkwardness. But, of course, this is Eric we are talking about here, and he lives for being an idiot, making my life harder than it already is.

I mean, we don't talk much any other day, but I feel like I could cut the tension with a knife, and I'd rather squash the issue before it gets worse.

Goddammit, I would do anything to feel a cold breeze on my face right now.

We're running alongside the dome. Here, it's full of life, except for the gravel everywhere and dirt, the scientists still trying to generate enough photosynthesis for grass to grow, so far failing. But on the outside, well... it's as if a wildfire has taken over, leaving everything in its wake a total mess. All the bodies have amalgamated to the earth, some bones still present, but mostly just a wasteland of nothing. The toxic levels are still high, meaning there is no chance of life out there.

But then we reach the waterside of the dome, and I slow down to watch through the glass to see the River Clyde. It's somewhat calm, even though it's being pelted with rain. The gentle ripples on the surface have me pressing my palm to the cold barrier. I close my eyes, imagining the way the wind feels on my face, the smell of the outdoors; freshly cut grass. Even the feeling of snow between my fingers would be more than enough to ease the storm in my head right now.

It's therapeutic, in a way, the thick clouds shielding the sun, causing a dusky look within the dome. It'll be freezing outside, but in here, we don't get cold or hot days. The haven's temperature is carefully controlled, so it's just right. But I miss the chill, I miss the feeling when your toes are nearly blue with frostbite, a numb, red nose, and having to wear a woolly hat and thick jacket to generate some heat.

I miss the feeling of content when I'd eventually sit in front of the fire to warm up.

I miss everything.

Well, I can't say I miss Summer, since we barely ever got close to fifteen degrees on hot days. Yep, Scotland may have been a beautiful place to live with its lochs and Munros, but the weather is and always will be, even in the middle of the civilisation ending, shockingly bad.