it's not living if it's not with you | harry lewis/wroetoshaw

chapter thirteen

16th December

Stella trudged up to her room, wanting to curl up in her bed and stay there for the rest of the night. She was exhausted and frustrated, which had ultimately created her outburst. Lazily, she twisted the doorknob, finding that it wouldn't open. Stella twisted it with a bit more force, and it still didn't open. Opting to bang on the door instead, Stella called out for Gee on the other side of the door.

"Gee, can you open the door, please." She called, not wanting to attract too much attention.

Still there was no answer. Stella rested her forehead on the door in defeat. Now her other friends were ignoring her.

Her eyes suddenly shot open at the sound of frustrated mumbles from the room behind her.

It was coming from one of the couple's rooms, but she didn't know which one.

However, the mumbles were entirely one-sided, as it sounded like there was only one person in there. The door was suddenly yanked open and Harry stormed out, not even looking at Stella as he passed her. He left the door open as he stormed down the hallway, turning the hallway to walk back to his own room. Stella furrowed her eyebrows at his dramatic exit and as to why he was in that room in the first place.

Through the opening in the door that Harry had thrown open, Stella spotted her bag on the floor, with her folded pyjamas next to it.

As if it was dramatic timing, Stella received a text from Freya.

We've moved your stuff into Talia's and Simon's old room, they're sharing with Gee and Cal for the night, hoping you and Harry can sort whatever this is, out. lots of love, Freya and Cal's idea x

Confused, Stella glanced around the room, to only see one double bed in the room. Stella's face burned with realisation, and now she understood why Harry stormed out. It wasn't surprising that Stella would have been the last person he would have wanted to share a bed with tonight, and he wasn't exactly her first pick right now either.

Stella marched out of the room, leaving her bag there, and stormed to Cal and Harry's room. Surprisingly Harry wasn't there, so Stella began to bang on the door.

"Cal, open up, this isn't funny."

No answer.

Stella huffed, and banged on the door a final time before hurrying back to the room to get her bag. She flung open the door, and bent down to fumble through her bag.

"You got a text too?"

She jumped slightly, seeing Harry stood in the doorway, still angrier than ever.

"Yeah." Stella replied quietly.

Harry gave a curt nod and closed the door loudly behind him.

"How come you got your stuff?" He asked, face frowning in annoyance.

"You didn't?" Stella asked, cautiously.

"No," Harry huffed, walking over to the bedside table to pick up his phone and aggressively type. "Cal, must've kept my things. Won't let me into my own room."

Stella studied him slowly. "Gee won't either."

Harry looked down at the folded clothes by her bag. "At least you got given clothes."

Stella's face burned as she registered his statement and looked back at the one double bed.

"Harry, I-"

"You can take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch downstairs." He fumbled around, not even making eye contact with her.

Stella furrowed her eyebrows. "No, it's fine, you take it, I'll sleep on the couch."