Two Ghosts (Bad Idea Sequel)

032. SELF PROCLAIMED & DIAGNOSED

"PLEASE, Oh God. You cant leave yet. It's too soon." Blair wailed out, fisting at the sheets beside her. Her internal screams quickly turned external as she felt herself jolt awake, shuddering then quickly crying. Her tears spread down her pink cheeks as she stared up at the ceiling breathlessly. The night terrors were getting progressively worse, yet the small Italian couldn't seem to figure out why. No herbal tea or melatonin pill was able to make her sleep soundly throughout the night.

This night in particular had an awful nightmare. One of the most horrifying reoccurring ones. It relived the moment that Nova passed away, but in a much more terrifying, and heartbreaking way.

Blair wiped the remaining tears the pooled in her eyes away and mustered up enough courage to stand up from the bed. Maybe she'd head to the hall then to the bathroom to get a glass of water. Maybe even make some tea in the kitchen if she felt ready enough to do that.

Eventually she found herself seated on the bathroom floor, then standing, her elbows pressed against the cold white marble countertops that lined the sink. The water dropped out slowly into a paper cup Blair kept on the vanity for moments like this, where she just needed to connect with something that she knew held real value. She needed reality.

A light flicked on underneath the crack in the door, then a subtle knocking sound made Blair drop the water cup out of her hands. She sighed as her grey tank top turned a dark color, spreading onto her lower area.

"Who is it?" She asked quietly. Her voice sounded so tired, not just because it was 3:42 in the morning, but because the small girl was just emotionally tired. "Harry. I just wanted to see if you were alright." Blair inhaled deeply, contemplating what to do next. "Can you please open the door, love?" Fuck. She gripped onto the bathroom counter for support and hoisted herself up, slowly opening the door.

Harry stood there in the pale light, his arm and forehead leaning against the doorframe. Silent tears began to fall from her eyes as she stared helplessly at Harry. He wrapped his unclothed torso around her and shushed her, whispering that it would be alright and whatever it was that was bothering her would pass.

Eventually Blair found herself back in Harrys bed. A place she promised herself she'd never return to. Really it was her bed, just one Harry was staying in. That made her feel better and like she wasn't disappointing herself.

She sat in the bed, staring up at the ceiling with her arms crossed over her chest. "Harry?" She voiced out quietly, just to see if it would get his attention. It seemed to Blair that he was trying to make himself busy. He scrolled through his Instagram feed mindlessly. There was still, yet again, unresolved tension between the pair. Whatever it was, Harry clearly wasn't in the mood to talk.

"Come on. We both know you're keeping yourself busy to ignore me." Blair sighed and still kept eye contact with the ceiling. Harry simply kept his eyes on his phone as his cheeks grew pink.

"No, I'm not." Harrys voice held a deep and stern tone. Blair stared at the side of his face as he turned his phone off and placed it onto his lap, covered by his hands. Blair eyed Harry once more before undoing his hands, which Harry made no effort to stop her.

He sighed as she unlocked his phone, still having the code memorized. Her eyes dropped down visibly as she stared at the bright screen, her cheeks flushing red. After several more glasses of wine than he should have consumed and the pure wholesomeness of Harry and Blairs song by the piano, Troye had taken a video and posted it to his public Instagram story.

"Fuck." Blair groaned and threw the phone back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Harry laughed a little to himself and rolled onto his side to face Blair, brushing a strand of hair away from her warm check. "I told you so."

"Yeah, yeah. Well I told you a lot of things and look where we are now." Blair answered angrily. "I'm not the one who posted the video." Harry answered back calmly. Maybe even a little too calmly. "I know you're not, Harry."

"It's not the end of the world. Check your comments section. They all just want us to record the song." Harry laughed again, reaching his arm over Blair's stomach to grab her phone that rested beside her. He, too, knew the combination to get into her phone and Blair watched as his fingers flicked to instagram. He tapped on the most recent post; a photo of her dog Toulouse.

Harry clicked on the comments section, laughed to himself a bit, then pointed to the comments he was talking about. 'Please, for the love of God, get back together,' read one comment. Blair felt her cheeks heat as she read another. 'We demand that you and Harry record the song'

"Jesus." Blair spoke aloud, rubbing her temples. If only it was as easy as rubbing stress away. "Arguably this has been one of the worst nights of my life." Blair groaned and flipped over to the other side of the bed and Harry followed suit, leaning over so that his hands rested comfortably on the dip between Blair's hips and waist. He patted her in a somewhat friendly manner, still feeling a tad bit awkward with her.

"I mean, it could have been worse..?" Harry stared up at the ceiling ands spoke out loud. Where had all of the advice he'd prepared in his head before gone? "I guess you're right." She sighed and flipped back over so Harry's hand fell back to his own side.

"If you'd ever like to make a duet, the studios always open and Mitch almost always answers." Harry whispered against her face so quietly she could almost not hear it. "And when exactly does he not answer?" Blair whispered back with the same tone. "When he's doing something more important than answering the Harry Styles." He chuckled to himself. With his free hand, he brought it to Blair's face and brushed a small strand of hair off of her face. "God, you're such a narcissist. It's unbelievable."

"A self proclaimed one, that is."

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