Amour [h.s]

☼ twenty eight ☼

"Baby lay your head down, you can sleep at my house"

☼ ☼ ☼

Amelie

It had been five whole days since I last saw Harry. He makes sure he phones me daily, but apart from that, our communication is rather limited.

He's been visiting family in Manchester, which is understandable. But it's left me with a huge gaping hole in my heart.

Maggie and Cassius had been taking it in turns to stay with me and keep me company, I had only managed sleeping here alone, for one night. And Harry was sure to praise me for it, telling me how proud he was and how much of a breakthrough I had made.

Often Cassius will keep me company throughout the day, making sure Milo and I are fed, I'm able to catch up on sleep and shower, and then Maggie will come over from around eight pm and spend the night.

The two of them have something going on, though I'm not one to judge, considering my situation with Harry. But it hasn't stopped me from noticing how close they act, I've caught them giving each other little hugs and texting each other. It makes me feel a whole lot better about Harry and I.

But tonight, I was alone. I was attempting being alone again and I was determined to make it through the night without needing anyone. I've done it once, I can do it again.

Luckily, Harry should be home by now. He phoned this morning to say that he was leaving Manchester this afternoon and would be back in the evening to spend the night again. And I had told him that he was to do no such thing. I wouldn't allow it.

I had told him that I was just fine, I didn't need babysitting tonight, and I felt positive about it.

I knew where he was if I needed him.

"Are you ready for you bath?" I ask Milo, who's sitting in his high chair, slapping the tray with his chubby hands, pasta sauce smeared over his face and hands.

He hit seven months old last week, which is insane to think about. He's suddenly gained a lot more energy, and I'm finding it hard to keep up, especially without Harry around.

Milo shakes his head at me, signalling that he would rather play in his messy dinner than have a nice warm bubble bath. It's his new favourite thing he's learnt to do, almost every time I speak to him, he scrunches his little lips up and shakes his head.

"No?" I ask, wiping the top of the tray with a wet cloth. "You're going to be a stinky Milo then, aren't you?" I tease him.

He gives me a little grin in return, showing me his teeth that are just poking through his gums.

"Am I going to have a stinky Milo?" I coo at him, wiping his face from sauce and lifting him out of the high chair. He smiles at me, but he has this sense of sadness in his eyes. He giggles and laughs, but he can't seem to shake the sadness away.