"I don't know when, I don't know how, but I know something's starting right now. Watch and you'll see some day I'll be part of your world."
They were living in completely different worlds, until a little mermaid forced them to collide. Although, it...
TW [death/disease]: The following chapter contains discussion of heavy topics such as death, loss and diseases. If you react badly to these subjects I would advise you to skip the whole chapter. I'm gonna give a short summary on what happened in the author's note at the end, which will be safe to read. I'm also gonna link a few resources and organizations where you can donate down below, please check them out if you've git some time left. In case one of y'all reading this right now is struggling with loss at the moment or any kind of emotional trauma and mental health issue in general, I just want you to know that you are NOT alone, you ARE being heard, you ARE loved and you ARE enough. In the words of one famous philosopher: Remember everything will be alright.
This chapter is dedicated to my grandpa, whom I have lost to cancer almost exactly one year ago, and to all the people that we have lost and that we miss so much everyday. ♡
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"F*ck this, I'm not gonna be able to sleep anyway!", I mumbled into my phone, freeing myself from the duvet by throwing it on the floor of Harry's guest room that functioned as my current accommodation. It was a few day later, the hustle and bustle about Harry and I in the media had died down and our cast mates were starting to realize that what they read online wasn't exactly the truth. Carl had even wished me a good morning again, maybe because I bragged him with donuts, but at least not everyone was still hating me. Rob, our director, wasn't too happy when we arrived later on set that day, but Cedar helped us out by saying they had been some kind of wardrobe malfunction, that somehow effected Harry too.
It was around three in the morning and I had just woken up after a terrible, terrible nightmare, that I usually had this time of the year. It was particularly bad that night though, so I couldn't fall back to sleep. I was scrolling through my phone in order to distract myself, when I realized that there was nothing else I could do except make my time awake more endurable by making myself a cup of hot chocolate. I wasn't too confident about cooking in Harry's kitchen, even if making a hot chocolate wasn't really considered cooking, although he had told my to make myself feel at home and that I could do whatever I want basically. Still, the only thing that convinced me to do so was the fact that Harry was sleeping peacefully and wasn't gonna notice any difference at his kitchen when he would stroll down the next morning.
I got up, threw an oversized sweater on, that I got from a thrift store in NYC, and quietly creeped along the hallway, making my way downstairs. When I had reached the kitchen, I began my search for milk, chocolate and pot, which I gladly found in the ridiculously organized cupboards, probably because Harry never used them. I started heating up the milk on the stove, carefully adding the dark chocolate, hoping I hadn't just raided Harry's secret candy stash, finishing it off with some cinnamon spice. I took a cup that didn't look like it had any personal value out of the cupboard above the stove and poured the hot chocolate in, letting it cool down for a few minutes as I stood in the dark watching the steam soar into the air.
