Law and Order- complete

V

"I don't wanna go home." Is all I tell Harry once we're in the car, I know he's wanting to object, but he says nothing. He gives me a curt nod, maintaining that grave look on his face. Tightened jaw, furrowed brows, and set frown. Almost in a pout. I think back to earlier in the book store, how much different he looked happy with Mrs. Baker. And now, he seemed back to his usual, distant self.

The drive is about twenty minutes, since Harry took the long way to avoid stop lights. I realize he's taking me back to his apartment, but I'm too deep in my thoughts to think about it. I don't know what Iris wanted from me, or what she thought she'd accomplish by ambushing us that way. The feeling of regret washes over me every-time I think about ignoring her texts. I could have known my mother, even if it was just for a few days. Now, I meant the words I said the other night more than ever.

I spent so long convincing myself that Marie didn't love me, but she spent years looking for me. All the bullshit I tolerated from Ellen. I could have had a real mom. I hate that I sound ungrateful for Miranda, she's been nothing but good to me, but I could have had more love. I just...didn't.

By the time we get to his apartment, it's almost four pm. The early sun threatened to set as it sat in the middle of the sky, no longer being dimmed by the deppressed clouds. The parking lot was beggining to fill with cars as everyone returned from work. Harry grabs the books while I walk up the stairs, remembering that he doesn't like to take elevators.

We still haven't said anything to eachother when we get into his apartment. He opens the door and stands with his back against it, allowing me to move in between him and the wall. Like I remembered, to my left is the kitchen. Sleek gray cabinets and drawers. A large white light shines over an island in the middle, cluttered with mail and random pieces of paper. I notice a half eaten banana. Harry sets the brown bag on the marble top and slides his jacket off to lay it on the stool. I think to do the same, but remember that I don't have anything under my hoodie except a bra.

He continues his silence as I watch his back move to the bathroom next to the master bedroom, the door closes shut and I sigh. I know he's upset, that's a given. But so am I. I want to talk about this. I want to talk about Iris, and everything. Harry said that nobody believed him, but that isn't true. I understand some tension between them, but obviously at some point she wanted to know why her boyfriend was killed and who did it.  Why did they never work together to find out?

I shake my head from the thoughts when my stomach growls, reminding me that I haven't eaten all day. When Harry gets out of the restroom, I'll ask what he has to eat here.

I pad over to the living area, where there was a slight mess. A black glass bowl that once contained cereal sat on the coffee table, next to a box of Raisin Bran. On the floor, a pair of his Nike sweats and a few empty bottles of water. I notice the area has a strong smell of...Harry. I can tell this is where he is most of the day, which would explain his pristine room.

I decide to sit on the leather couch, moving a large, black plush blanket to my side. My phone vibrates in the pocket of my hoodie, making my mouth form into an 'o' shape once I realize I haven't checked it since this morning.

There's a picture of Miranda at the beach. She squints at the camera since the sun is plastered directly on her brown skin, which glistened slight sweat. On her head was a straw beach hat and behind her, striaght blueness in the sky. I wondered how hot florida could be in March, but apparently, very. Her puffy lips tugged into an uncomfrtable embrace at her lack of tech savyness, and the text underneath it read: I don't know how you do this! Te extrano tanto, mija.

I smile, finally feeling a sense of normalcy as I respond back, letting her know I love and miss her. Part of me wonders where Ellen is, but I tell myself not to give a shit. Ashley messaged me back on snapchat, telling me she wanted to tell me but also wanted to give me space.