BLACKHOUSE [H.S.]

Forty-Eight

Chapter song:

Miracle by Bad Omens

-

I tap my foot anxiously under the shop's front desk, staring down at my phone, at my countless text messages to Harry that have gone unanswered.

Four days.

He hasn't responded to any of my calls, or texts in four days.

I haven't even seen him since the night he ran out of my apartment, leaving me alone without an explanation. He never picked me up for work the next day like he promised, nor did he bother showing up for work himself. He didn't let anyone know he wasn't coming in, not even Louis.

I had to call all three of his clients that were scheduled, and make up some lame excuse as to why their appointments were being canceled day-of.

My heart has been near shattering the last four days, and I'm worried if I go one more day without hearing from him, I will completely fall apart. If I didn't know that he told Louis after that first day that he was taking the rest of the week off, I would have thought he was dead.

At least then I'd have an answer as to why he's been ignoring me.

"Katie, you alright to lock up?" Louis calls from behind me, and I turn to see him peeking his head through the door to the back room.

I force a tight-lipped smile onto my face, and give him a short nod. His answering look of pity causes a ripple of uneasiness in my otherwise-hollow gut.

"Have- Have you heard from Harry today?" I ask nervously.

Louis sighs heavily before shaking his head, and the same feeling of dissapointment I've grown accustomed to in the last few days settles over me, crushing me.

I swallow the lump in my throat, turning away from him so he doesn't see the tears welling in my eyes.

"I'm sure he'll reach out soon," he offers, though his tone doesn't reassure me in the slightest.

"Right, yeah," I say, staring down at my fingers, the skin around my cuticles raw from my endless picking.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Louis says, and I hear the soft 'click' of the door closing behind him, leaving me to my thoughts.

My bottom lip begins to tremble, and I bring my knuckles up to rub my eyes in hopes of holding back the onslaught tears threatening to fall.

Frustration with myself, and with Harry begins to grow, overpowering the constant sadness that's been consuming me the last four days.

How could he leave my apartment, and then shut me out with zero explanation? How could he tell me he loves me, and then act like I don't exist? Like these last few months have meant nothing to him?