the art of loving ; lord tewksbury

nine

"We are on the path of becoming friends, that is it and nothing more. It won't ever be more."

Chapter Nine

"Daisy. Daisy. You have to wake up! The house is on fire!"

  Daisy jolted awake and immediately sat upright at the mention of fire. Her hands reached out to grab onto the something at random, which happened to be her brother's arm. She stared up at him, a look of panic crossing her face and before she knew it, she shoved her brother off her bed and stood up hastily.

  "F-fire! We have to get out of here!" Daisy said as she scrambled around the room trying to gather as many things as she could. Her vision was still blurry, having had no time to rub the sleep from her eyes. A small yelp left her lips as she clumsily bumped into the corner of her desk, but she ignored the pain in her hip. She snatched her beloved journal up and piled it onto the heap of belongings in her arms.

  "Goodness, Daisy. You're going to perish with the house if it ever burned down."

  Daisy stopped gathering her items and turned to her brother, who was still sat unmoving at the edge of her bed. A cheeky grin stretched across his lips as he shook his head at his sister, finding her attempt at saving her belongings before herself hilarious.

  "Huh?" the girl stared back in confusion. "Why aren't you moving? There's a fire!"

  "There's no fire," Grant said, standing up to move towards her. He carefully unloaded the pile of things from his sister's arms, chuckling at her puzzled expression.

  "Wha—there's no fire?" Daisy questioned, looking around her bedroom for any signs of smoke. There were none, not even a single trace. When her hands were finally empty, she punched her brother in the arm.

  "Ow!" Grant jumped away from her. "What did you do that for?"

  "Why did you say there was a fire?" she asked, baffled.

  "To wake you up, obviously," Grant said. "Thankfully, it worked. I've been trying to shake you awake for almost a half hour now."

  Daisy squinted her eyes at him, then shifted her gaze to the clock on her bedside table. Her eyes widened when she realised she had overslept, which rarely occurred because her father would throw a fit if he found out she was slacking in her daily routines. She ran a hand through her already messy hair, tugging at it slightly in frustration at herself. It was almost noon, yet here she was still clad in her pyjamas, with no work completed except for panicking over a false alarm.

  "Father is going to go ballistic on me," Daisy said, absentmindedly chewing on her thumbnail, her mind left scattered with the countless punishments she would have to endure the minute she was in her father's presence.

  When she looked at Grant, he simply shook his head. "Don't worry about him. Father left the house at the break of dawn."

  "He did?" the girl replied, surprised. It was unusual for him to leave the house, especially so early in the morning. He would only go out to get intoxicated at the local bar, which was also quite rare as he spends a majority of his time inducing his own stash of alcohol at home.

  "Where did he go?" Daisy queried.

  Grant shrugged. "I don't have the slightest clue. I heard the front door slam a few minutes after I woke, and he's been out ever since. Which is a fortunate thing for you, considering half the day is almost over." He leaned against her desk, crossing his arms. "Would you care to elaborate on your whereabouts last night?"