One Journey, the Final

Chapter 5:

For the next few weeks, we tried to spend every possible moment together. I would go to work during the day, and spend time with him at night before I went home to sleep and it started all over again. Lyla, my boss, and everyone started to notice a difference in me. I was much more bubbly and less....uptight. Of course though, sleep became practically nonexistent, and energy was low during the day with long nights of laughter and a quickly growing affection to him.

"Annabel! Are you asleep?" I hear in the back of my mind. I shoot my head up to find my boss, Mr. Byrns staring at me with a less-than pleased expression on his face. My eyes start to burn. He's a heavy smoker, on the verge of lung cancer and being told to quit. Of course, I'm more likely to get a raise than to have him decide to quit smoking. He's a short round man who has been a bachelor all of his life. He says he's married to his job, and that's the only relationship he needs. I blink away the tears, and sneakily swat away the contaminated air around us by flitting my hand as I rub my eye.

"I'm terribly sorry Mr. Byrns. Long night. I promise it won't happen again," I say, picking up a file folder to begin working on yet another project.

"It's fine. Just make sure it doesn't happen again," he says, emphasizing "doesn't". He then persists to walk away and grab-oh what a surprise-a Marlboro Light cigarette. Maybe he's "trying" to watch his weight. It's not helping. I stick my tongue out at his back and quickly get back to work. Usually he's a bit more cheerful, but then again, it's time for his cigarette break, and people are always cranky when they miss their usual. I direct my eyes back to the pages. Lists, ideas, and sketches. I try to keep my focus and actually be productive, but I simply can't. Twenty more minutes. I keep telling myself that. And then I'll get to see Harry. I had no idea what we would be doing, but I was starving, as always. I quietly opened one of my desk drawers. Technically, we weren't allowed to have food in here, but I can be pretty sneaky. Slowly I pulled out a Snickers, tore at the wrapping, and indulged. The chocolatey goodness, the caramel rolling over my tongue, and crunchy nuts all exploded in my mouth. But of course, this only made my stomach growl more. When I placed the last bite in my mouth, I clapped my hands together to get rid of any crumb evidence, and then began working. Carefully I doodled out a draft for an apartment in Rosewood Parcs. I enlarged the kitchen, adding plenty of room for many cabinets and a nice dining area, but that led to squeezing the bathroom up on the first level. Oh well. By the time I was reaching to sharpen my pencil, the clock read 6:00. I nearly jumped out of my chair, grabbed my purse and ran to my car.

During red lights I would fix my makeup or comb through my hair with my fingers. I already wore a nice outfit. White lacey dress with a full skirt, a grey pullover sweater, tights, and my boots. I accessorized it with a pearl necklace, and my hair in neat curls. It wasn't everyday that I looked this nice, but I do enjoy throwing a cute outfit together. Forty-five minutes later with daily New York traffic and the ongoing business the city brings, I'm parked in front of the hotel. I don't even bother going to the front desk anymore, just a nod and that's all I need. I skip down the halls and plop down in front of their suite. Immaturity releases insecurity. With a unrhymthmic beat I knocked on the door. It swung wide open to show Louis on the opposite side.

"Annabel!" He cried with pure delight. I thought he might jump on me and give me a hug. Luckily for me he didn't. I walked in to see the boys blasting loud music and having a dance party. There stood Liam, Niall, Zayn, and Harry all at the front doing many moves including pelvic thrusts and walking like an Egyptian. Needless to say, they're better singers. Once I walk through Harry sees me and smiles.

"Hello love!" He says, now doing a rowing motion with his arms.

"Hey Harry!" I comfortably say, walking out towards him for a hug. Almost instantaneously as I take a step, he does to, and his arms wrap around my waist. I buried my head into his shoulder. I took in a whiff of his all-too familiar after shave, and felt sweet. It's hard to think two months have already passed by. In this moment right now, I wanted to stay here, not worrying about what tomorrow would bring. Because in the back of my mind, I knew that this would have to come to an end. Vacation. That's what he called it. Come February, he would leave with the guys for the tour. And I would be alone for about six months, stuck with Skype calls and occasional text messages.