FALLING, FALLEN [h.s]

trente-trois

𝖣𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 2019
𝖫𝗈𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗇, 𝖴𝖪
𝖧𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒'𝗌 𝖭𝖾𝗐 𝖧𝗈𝗆𝖾

Boxes of his belongings were spread throughout his brand-new home. Everything was where it was supposed to be, except he was missing the person he wanted to be here. But he went and fucked it up like he always did in every single relationship he's been in. Harry looked around until he sighed and went to pour himself a glass of whiskey. While he drank the hard liquor, he sat down on the piano stool and pressed his fingers into the keys of the piano. He continued to play the instrumental piece of his upcoming song, falling, which he wrote when he finally realized that Harry was in the wrong.

He hasn't yet messaged or talked to Iris about the album, or that he had used a voicemail recording of her voice in one of his songs. Maybe once he has the courage, he'll message her, but he's just not ready, and he knows he's the asshole.

"Harry, who in the world drinks in broad daylight?" Said Gemma as she walked into the living room since Harry had given her a spare key in case he needed help unpacking

"Just needed to forget some stuff," said Harry as he finished his glass of whiskey.

"You can't always solve your problems with liquor like all you've done ever since you moved to this place is either drink or be stuck in this house writing songs about Iris," said Gemma as she grabbed the empty glass from his hands

"What am I supposed to do? Tell me, Gemma, cause honestly, I don't know," said Harry as he ran his hands through his hair

"Maybe take a shower, and then I can help you unpack the many boxes you entirely forgot the past three months," said Gemma with a stern tone in her voice

Harry obeyed his older sister and took a cold shower as he recalled the happiest times in his life. Iris giggled as Harry kissed her in her most tickle spots, sharing a bed as they shared their thoughts or just when they were in each other's presence. The main reason why he sold his home in LA was because his old home reminded him so much of Iris, almost like a phantom haunted him every night he spent there.

After the long, cold, thoughtful shower and after, Harry had put on some new clothes that he found in some box in his bedroom. Harry and Gemma started to unpack the unopened boxes and started to put his stuff in their rightful places. They started from the bottom and worked themselves to the top half of the house. After a long 5 hours, they officially unloaded every belongings.

"I'm going to go since it's late, and please, Harry, stop drinking so recklessly. You're worrying me," said Gemma with a soft smile

"I'll try to work on that," said Harry as he walked her to the door, and they hugged each other goodbye.

While Harry stays in this big lonely home, as he is on his way to his room, his phone starts ringing, which he assumed was either his mum or Gemma making sure he is okay. But what he wasn't expecting was Iris calling him. He quickly answered the phone and put it up to his ear.

"You know... you're one son of a bitch that I can't stop loving... it's funny," said Iris, who sounded drunk as she started to giggle through the phone

"I really am, huh?" said Harry as he plopped himself on his bed

"Yes, you are... left me for some blonde girl could've just told me you didn't want to be together anymore... instead of humiliating me..." said Iris as it sounded as if she was tearing up

"Where are you right now?" Asked Harry, worried that she was somewhere drunk alone

"Some club in Soho...but don't worry, I'm not alone" said Iris through the call