the journal - h.s.

96

[amber’s pov]

It was raining, it was Thursday, and I felt awful. The heavy drops falling from the grey sky hammered against the window as if they desperately wanted to seek shelter from the storm very like me. I felt cold as I remembered giving Harry one last kiss this morning before he let me go and I drove with Jenny to work.

I grabbed another shirt not even paying attention to which one it was and stuffed it into my bag, as the sound of the rain battled with my loud thoughts. Harry had pulled me into his arms as a deep sigh had escaped his lips, “I’ll see you Monday,” he had whispered into my hair with a tone that was so much more than casual. It had sounded like exhaustion of the soul.

“Monday,” I had echoed with a soft smile before having tiptoed one last time and stolen another touch of his warm lips against mine.

But now I could barely keep myself concentrated on packing without being worried sick; what was there to worry about? Harry would just be practicing with Louis, Ed and Alex the weekend over. Maybe it was the anxiety over how Harry’s father would react when he would find out his son wouldn’t show up - suggesting Harry wouldn’t let himself be played around with any longer. I could only conjecture about his father’s reaction.

I shook my head over my own foolishness. Harry was safe, sensible, and I would see him Monday again. It was only three and a half day for crying out loud. But time was nothing near normal when you were madly in love I had learned; seconds could feel like an infinity and hours could feel like a heartbeat of happiness.

As I lifted a pair of skinny jeans from the chair something fell to the ground; something ivory white. My eyes sought over the rectangle with the two elegantly ink written words reading ‘Amber Moore’. Once again my heart was in my throat as I lifted the letter from the floor as carefully as I could; almost as if had it been a bomb that would go off  by the lightest touch. I hadn’t forgotten about this letter, which I had found on the mat outside my place a few days ago. I hadn’t stopped pondering over how on earth Peter - or whoever had delivered it - had gotten into my building, but mentally I had tried hiding the object away. Suppressing the little envelope, which I knew would be filled with manipulating lies that would hurt to read one way or another.

“Are you ready for extreme girl time or what?” Jenny asked as she peeked her head in through the front door of the apartment making me squeeze the letter against my chest as my eyes flickered to her in shock.

“I thought I could help you pack or something - I don’t think Perrie would fancy me using all the gas on just keeping the car heated. Besides its leaking,” the sound of the heavy rain echoed the smile in her voice. She stepped further into the room and looked curiously around the place before with an approving voice stating, “nice place. I totally understand why Harry would rather spend majority of his time here. Not that I’m complaining though.”  

A faint smile suited my lips while I quickly crammed the letter into my pocket, “I’m guessing Louis doesn’t complain either?” She smirked at me and threw one of the pillows from the corner at me before I continued, “but thanks for the compliment, my apartment likes you already. I’m almost ready I just got caught up with some thoughts.”

“What kind of thoughts?” Jenny asked as she lifted a little golden figure my mum had once given me; I wasn’t sure but I think it was some Indian goddess.

“Mostly just stupid worried ones -”

“About Harry?” Jenny asked and looked up at me. I couldn’t help but grin at how well she already knew me, “yeah. Lately it’s always about him to be honest.”

“Well, Louis just wrote to tell me they were doing great and that they planned on seeing a movie tonight - Sharknado or some other complete crap badass boy movie I think,” she rolled her eyes with a smirk, snorting the title ‘Sharknado’, while I hitched up in my bag after stuffing another couple of things in it. I tried hard not to think over how Harry had barely even given himself time to answer the only message I had sent him today. He didn’t answer it till three hours later when it was almost half past five with a distracted ‘I hope you’ll have fun too, love’.