Far [harry au]

77:bail

When I arrive at the inhabited apartment, I stab the key into the key hole and twist the door unlocked. I can tell Harry hasn't spent much time in the living room, the floor is nicely vacuumed, and are no dishes littering the lot from what I can see.

This place washes memories of Harry and I through my body, like a wave. I quietly shut the door behind me, as if I'm trying to be secretive. I stalk towards the room that used to be mine and Harry's, everything of mine is still here. It's like I never left.

My shoes,books, clothes, everything. It's all still here. "wow." I mumble to nobody particular. I'm pleasantly nonplussed that harry's lack of tidiness has rubbed off, the bed is made, his two pair of shoes are neatly lined up infront of the closet and from what I can see the laundry has been washed. The books on his wooden shelf are even lined up with the spines of the books facing outwards like I taught him. He would get pissed off whenever I scolded him about placing the books back on the shelve unorderly.

I saunter towards the closet I used to share with Harry, I rip a few shirts off of the colourful hangers, neatly folding the fabrics in a tall mountain on his bed. I can smell the refreshing scent of Harry lingering on my clothes from sitting around as they swiftly are slung past my face, leaving behind a rush of air.

The smell of Harry on my clothes, almost leads me to believe he is standing beside me, the smell of him is so strong, my body goes weak internally.

**

Only about fifteen minutes later, I'm sprawled out across Harry's bed. Eleanor's more expensive one is less comfortable than Harry's. The bed i've slept in for the past week, leaves me with back cramps in the mornings and sore muscles in the afternoon. I trace my fingers through my hair sitting up in a blink of an eye.

I slide across the silk of Harry's sheets, towards his dresser. I shift around his million pairs of socks, my fingers touch a hard book and I take the object in my hand shutting the dresser once i've retrieved what I was seeking for.

I untie the brown lace, around the small book placing the string on the bed beside my shifting body. I open the book to the latest page of Harry's journal entries. His handwriting is scribbled across a full page, and I swallow any guilt in my body.

When two souls fall in love, there is nothing else but the yearning to be close to the other.

The presence that is felt through a hand held, a voice heard, or a smile seen.

Souls do not have calendars or clocks, nor do they understand the motion of time or distance.

They only know it feels right to be with one another.

This is the reason why you miss someone so much when they are not there- even if they are only in the very next room.

Your soul only feels their absence- it doesn't realize the separation is temporary.

But today, I come to realize, that our separation wasn't temporary, but it was permanent.

She left, and who do I have to blame?

-Harry Styles.

I blink back a few tears. Harry worded everything so perfectly, the words held such strong meaning to him and I both. My heart tightened in my chest. I wasn't going to leave Harry permanently, I wanted to show him that I wasn't going to sit back and let him feed me more bullshit. I shove the brown journal into my bag, along with the various amounts of clothing. Not everything was packed, but when Harry walks in the room I am sure he would notice half of my things were missing, along with his sacred diary.