espionage [h.s.]

SIXTY THREE

A.N. ik i've said this a million times but the updates have been slow/irregular bc i'm quite limited for time atm, and i've also been avoiding wattpad in general bc it's quite mentally taxing for me. but i hope you enjoy this chapter, and continue to stick with me 🖤

HARRY

I can't sleep.

I lie on my back in the large double bed in the empty hotel room, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. It doesn't take long for me to grow bored of that, so my eyes then slide back over to the door on the left side of the room, a stark reminder that Rochelle is laying in bed only a few feet behind it. I've been trying to stop looking at it, averting my gaze and scolding myself for constantly thinking of her, but no matter how hard I try, my eyes slide back to that door and she remains stuck at the forefront of my mind. The hardest thing to deal with, I think, is that I know if I just opened that door and slipped into bed beside her, I wouldn't be wide awake like I am now. Instead, the steady rhythm of her breath would softly lull me to sleep, just like it used to. 

But I know that can't happen. We're not those people anymore. A bed can no longer be ours, from now on it'll be hers and mine. And Rochelle isn't mine anymore, either. She never was, not really. But that realisation is a process, one which I'm still working through. I still need to learn how to live, breathe, be without her.

But I'm still learning, so I don't sleep. Instead, I shift through different states of consciousness until finally, sunlight begins to stream through the curtains and I glance at the clock to find that it's 8am, grateful that my night of suffering is over and I can get up now. My body is stiff and my eyes are burning from fatigue, but I ignore it and make my way into the bathroom, stepping into the shower with the hopes it'll wake me up a little. That, and the large coffee I'm planning to order as soon as I'm dressed.

However, I don't get the chance to order that coffee, because as soon as I'm freshly showered and dressed, there's a knock at the adjoining door. Pausing on my journey towards the phone to order room service, I glance over at it just in time to hear another knock, this one sounding more forceful. Her voice comes next, calling out, "Harry? Are you awake? Open the door."

With another yawn, I walk over and pull the door open, finding Rochelle stood on the other side with her laptop in her hands, her eyes wild, her hair a mess, and clearly doped up on too much caffeine. A quick glance around the room over her shoulder is enough to confirm my theory, my eyes landing on the several empty cups littered across the available surfaces. The bed is just as much of a mess as the rest of it, sheets twisted up and random pillows strewn across the room. Raising my eyebrows, I turn back to Rochelle and simply ask, "Sleepless night?"

She blinks at me, looking almost annoyed that I can tell. She seems to be forgetting that I'm the expert. "Uh, yeah, a little," she says quickly, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. "Anyway, listen to this, you're not going to believe it. I know where Milos is."