Afterlife: Reincarnation

40

September 3

HARRY

My leg was bouncing uncontrollably. It made leaning forward, elbows on my knees, rather inconvenient. But I didn't give a shit. I didn't care. My mind was still reeling, completely distracted from everything around me. I was staring at my phone as it sat on the coffee table. I was willing it to ring, praying for any kind of news. I needed to hear something, anything, before I went absolutely mental.

I had arrived in New York late in the evening. The sun was low in the sky, falling down past the tops of the buildings. It was a strange feeling, this homecoming. As I sat in the back of the taxi, observing the city passing me by, I felt as if I had never left. The streets and restaurants were familiar, the constant traffic, the busy sidewalks. I watched as people went about their day, preparing for a new work week. They were all completely obvious to my torment, to the panic gripping me constantly.

Arriving at Niall's, he met me at the door with a grim expression. It was an odd look on his normally happy face. Niall could always be counted upon for a positive outlook, a cheery attitude. And when all else failed, he was the guy to take you to the bar, and help you forget your worries. But now, he knew, was not the time for his failsafe backup plan. Neither of us knew how to navigate this current situation.

Throwing my bag into my old room, I immediately returned to the living room, sitting down with Niall. Of course, he asked questions. And of course, I had no answers. I knew nothing more from when I left Seattle, other than the fact I was completely exhausted and drained.

We sat watching TV, neither of us speaking, until finally I retreated to my room. It was only nine at ten at night, or seven back in Seattle. But I just couldn't face anyone any longer. I couldn't keep my calm, and put on a brave face. I wanted to freak out, to punch a wall, and to wallow in my solitude.

My night was long, and completely devoid of rest. I wasn't even sure my eyes closed beyond the required blinking, and although I had been able to control my wayward thoughts, keeping all images from the iPad screen from my vision, I just couldn't stop thinking.

I tried to be positive, although it was something I wasn't quite familiar with. I was rather out of practice with this regard, having no purpose for positivity in many years. Before Lane, positive wasn't a concept I understood. But for her sake, I tried to think that way. I tried to picture her calling, saying she was fine. I tried to image her homecoming, a scene I had pictured more times than I could count. Her emerging from the plane, and me enveloping her within seconds. As if my longing for her wasn't overwhelming before, now I had no doubt I would never let her go. Social acceptability be damned, once I had her in my arms again, I was going to be like a parasitic growth, stuck to her like glue.

I watched as the sun rose slowly, the orange glow of a new day filling my room. A new day. I prayed it would be a good one.

Slipping from my bed, I pulled on my running clothes. I needed to move. I needed a distraction. Because I knew if I just sat here, my mind would take over, and I would drive myself insane. Exiting my room, I saw Niall's door still firmly closed. He was still asleep, of course. He had never been a fan of mornings, and since it was currently only shortly after six, there was no way I would see him for the next few hours.

I set out on my run, tracing the familiar streets of lower Manhattan. When I lived here, I usually did my workouts at a gym. I had long ago given up on running the city, always feeling there were too many people, too many obstacles. Now, before the rest of the world awoke, I found it refreshing. There were barely any people on the streets, apart from the few shops opening early for their day. I ran passed them silently, intend on my route, making it up as I went along. I turned corners, weaved through people as they emerged from their homes. As the streets slowly filled, I began my way home again, only then realizing I had been out for over an hour already. And it would be probably almost another hour to make my way back to my flat. I had never run this long, this far before, and yet I didn't feel winded. My body was heavy, my legs weighted, but my breathing was even. And surprisingly, for the first time in almost twenty four hours, my mind was eased.

Coming home, I showered, made breakfast, watched TV. I tried to lose myself in my latest manuscript, but quickly found that reading was not going to provide me the usual solace and distraction it once did. I couldn't focus, at least not like this. I needed something else, something that required nothing of me. And despite my usual dislike for television, I returned to my position from the night previous, staring blankly ahead, losing myself in the mindless chatter of some stupid sit com.

Niall awoke shortly before ten, amused by the fact I was awake.

"I see some things haven't changed," he quipped, padding into the kitchen to pour himself some juice.

"I've already been for a run," I commented, my voice lifeless.

"Jesus," Niall muttered. "I thought I was ace for just getting out of bed before noon."

I forced a smirk, but it didn't reach my eyes. I felt numb, completely void of all feeling. The pain in my chest from yesterday had eased, replaced by an empty hole. I had yet to leave this couch, my mind a heavy emptiness. Lunch came and went, but I wasn't hungry. I was nothing.

What if I lost her? What if, in some sick twist of fate, she was pulled from my life as well? How the hell could I continue? I had already lost the two people a kid should never have to lose. I had spent the last five years determined to be alone, because when you let people in, they could hurt you. They could leave you. I was determined to keep to my own company, seeking no one but those I had had all along.

Then she happened. Like a whirlwind of blonde hair and blue eyes, she stormed into my life and took me over. She fucked me up, make me think, made me question, and made me feel.

She was dangerous from the start, and thinking back now I realized that was why I had fought against her so hard. Because I knew, even then, that she would break me. She would find her way through the walls I had built, and all my power would be gone. She would hold me, completely, everything I was would be hers.

And now, I may have lost her.

My head fell into my hands, my fingers twisting and pulling in frustration.

Why had I not heard anything yet? It was twenty four hours, now. Surely, in a whole fucking day, someone would have heard something. I needed to know, I needed to find her.

About an hour ago, I had even taken to the internet, stealing Niall's laptop, searching flights to Somalia. They were fucking expensive, and I knew I would never find her. But I hated sitting here, useless and broken, doing nothing. Shouldn't I be doing something? I should do something to find her, not just be sitting on Niall's fucking couch while the wanker ate his body weight in crisps.

"She's okay, mate," Niall commented, eyeing me from his place on the couch. "She probably just hasn't been able to find a phone."

I cast him a look, my expression meaning to be thankful, but probably looking more like ragged contempt at this point. I knew he was just trying to help, but nothing anyone could say to me at this point could ease the emptiness I felt.

Until I heard her voice, no one else mattered.