Substance over Styles | H.S.

XXXIII. The Unknown

If any of the technical/economical stuff is absolute rubbish and completely wrong. Please forgive me, I am only a History major, not a Business one.

WARNING
Tears may flow.

Enjoy.

~*~

I was sitting in my office chair, lost in thoughts about the wonderful trip to Florence four weeks ago.

Everything was so perfect back then.

Unlike now.

At four in the morning, someone had called Harry to tell him there was a problem at work. He immediately left our cosy cocoon of comfort, jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom of his penthouse. I followed him in after putting my silk robe on and asked him worryingly what the matter was. He didn't know. He said he was going to the office and would call me with more news. He promised me that I didn't have to worry and that everything would be okay.

"Go back to sleep, love. It's going to be fine." He had whispered before giving my cheek a gentle kiss and closing the door.

But upon arriving at the office, l still hadn't heard a thing.

Nothing.

I went to his office to find his door locked. Yet voices could be heard, so I leaned against the door and frowned when I didn't recognise the different voices apart from Harry's. I went back to my office and waited for my laptop to start up. I sipped my coffee nervously and opened up my mailbox to search for any new notifications.

Again. Nothing.

Not a word from Harry, so the only thing I could do was wait, wait until I finally got to know why the hell he so suddenly had to leave our bubble of love behind. The normal morning routines of answering Harry's emails and arranging certain meetings didn't take my mind of the whole ordeal as I had hoped it would.

The unknown was slowly killing me.

No one knew what had happened. I tried talking to Eleanor and Niall during lunch, but they were as much in the dark as I was. Even Liam and Louis were wondering what the matter was. So here I was, clouding my mind with what ifs and memories from the past. I checked the news websites to see if anything might have leaked, but thankfully nothing was out. Whatever Harry was dealing with couldn't be pretty and since he was such a big figure in the business world and celebrated by the media, it was a good thing that newspapers couldn't satisfy my hunger for this particular kind of knowledge.

After quickly running to the bathroom, doing my business and checking if my appearance was still sort of on point, I went back to my office, only to find a note from Harry on my desk.

Office. 3 p.m. sharp.

It was hand-written on a white business card with his name on it. With its short and somehow authoritative undertone, I wondered even more what could possibly be going on. The little note was actually quite hurtful since there were no kisses, no kind of lovingly written affections whatsoever. Harry wasn't like the tone of the card. Not anymore.

I tried to not take it too personal and blamed the bluntness on the high level of stress he was probably experiencing at the moment. I looked at the clock again and saw it was time to leave. I didn't know if I should bring my notepad, but did it anyway. I followed the way to his office, a way I walked endless of times, and stopped in front of his office door since it was still closed. I felt nervous, because the thing that worried me the most, was Harry cutting me off from all communication. It was so unlike him.