Fixable - A Larry Stylinson Story

Dear Patience

Dear Patience

Can we share a drink and let go of the pressure?

Dear Patience

'Cause the last time that we talked seems like forever, and ever

***

[Will is Niall's tour manager]

[Niall is back in London - it's been a few days]

***

The line was still ringing as I dropped lengthwise onto the couch in the living room, exhausted. After Harry had left in such a hurry, I had left the studio and gone home.

"Come on," I muttered impatiently, "come on! Pick up!"

I breathed a sigh of relief when there was a crack from offstage, "Baby?"

"Hey, Chloé. Sorry to disappoint you, but Niall's doing an interview right now. It's Will."

"Oh, I see, um, hi Will. How long is Niall going to be busy for?"

I heard bustling in the background as Will made a vague noise, "Well, at least another half hour. But I can't promise anything. It can always drag out the back 'til then."

"Yeah, I know. Hmm, well, thanks for letting me know anyway," I said, turning so that my head hung over the edge of the seat and my legs dangled over the back.

"Anything you want me to tell him?"

I waved it off and shook my head. "Don't worry about it. Just tell him I called and to please call me back as soon as possible."

"All right."

"Thanks, Will. Have a good day."

"More like evening, young lady, because it's a bit late here."

"Right, sorry."

"Bye, Chloé."

"Ciao." I hung up and sighed.

At least this time it hadn't just gone to voicemail.

I held my phone up to my face again and opened the chat with Harry: my messages from half an hour ago hadn't arrived.

Nevertheless, I started typing again.

You (01.34 pm)

I've gone home, H.

I hope you're managing. To some extent, at least.

I'm worried, okay? You can always talk to me, I'm here for you.

Let me know if you need anything.

You (01.36 pm)

We don't have to talk either if that's not what you want.

But please let me help you.

I sighed again and somewhat awkwardly, due to my lying position, grabbed the remote. I randomly started an episode of The Big Bang Theory and remained upside down.

As I stared at the upside-down picture on the TV, my thoughts drifted back to Harry's behaviour earlier.

I instantly felt a thick lump forming in my throat again as I thought of his face as he left the room: his jaw muscles had been tense, his eyes fixed forward. His eyebrows had drawn together in despair and tears had glistened on his cheeks.