London

30 - "Just give me time."

Harry

"Don't cry," I whispered, those words suddenly enough to pull herself together. 

Like always it breaks my heart to watch her unravel like that. To see the panic in her eyes, trapped there, trying to escape. She fights it, for me, for herself, I don't know, but she stopped crying after I asked her to. I was glad to see it though, no matter the reason, simply because I can't have her show the emotions that are trapped inside of me, too. Ready to unleash just like Alex's. She shows how she feels easily, sometimes even when she doesn't want too. I on the other hand deal with stuff differently than her. It has always been that way and will stay that way. It's probably the worst for our relationship, but we'll manage, we have to.

She calmed down and said that she needed to go. She promised me that she wouldn't go back to her work although I can't really blame her if she did. It was rather horrible of me to yell at her boss, but he's a dick and he deserved it. The only negative thing about it is that Alex didn't deserve it and she's what's important. I know that, but I lose sight of it easily. I hurt her as if it's my job and I'm pretty good at. Instead my real job has become a mess. My schedule as full as ever, trying to squeeze in as many customers as possible in hopes that it will clear my mind. Numb it. But it is too much to handle, double appointments and wack designs. It's not helping either that Pascal is constantly breathing down my neck. Pointing out all my flaws. 

"Sheila rescheduled, the other red-haired girl asked for Joseph," he says, calling me in his office. "And why did you leave Sheila in the first place?"

Part of me wants to lie again and tell him that it was a crisis with my mother, but Pascal isn't as forgiving since the first time I used her as an excuse. He knows that I don't particularly like her nor does he has the empathy to actually care for longer than a week. The truth is all that's left. I'm too tired to come up with a lie anyway.

"Alex called, she needed me."

"Sheila needed you to finally finish her piece. I'm getting fed up with that Alex. Can't she help herself?"

"You were fed up with her before you even met her," I tell him, ignoring the rest. "It won't happen again."

"Spare me the lie. We both know it will, but the next time I might not be this forgiving. Now please show what you were working on with that other girl to Joseph so that he has a clue."

"You know I'm better a portraits than he is," I say to him, feeling anger rise. 

"I guess she wants it so bad that she rather get it from him instead of waiting for twenty years to get a reply from you. Sasha works here for a reason, use her," he says and his tone is final. Without another word from my side, I turn on my heels and leave his office.

Sure he would like me to use Sasha, the receptionist, but I like to keep my cliënts intel to myself. Who knows what he'll do with it if he gets his hands on it. He's not a fool though and he knows why I keep to myself here. It's because eventually I'll leave. The question is who will pull the trigger first, me or Pascal. 

Inside the shop Joseph is of course on break with who else? Susie. I have seen her a couple of times since I asked her to back off, but surprisingly she hasn't texted me or approached me. To my horror I have to approach her now, wanting to get this trade of information over with so that I can return home. One look on Susie makes me realize how much I miss Alex. All of her.

"Joseph?" I ask and he looks up from watching his girl that has her legs over his lap. She of course already had her eyes on me. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Of course," he says, sitting up straighter, forcing Susie to drop her feet to the ground. "Is this about that red-haired girl?"

"Yeah," I tell him, looking down to the designs to read her name, "Vivian. She wants a portrait tattoo of her mother."