𝖎𝖓𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊.

019.

☽

ESTELLA HAD HIDDEN IN her home for three days now, and it was questioning Harry. He called her because he promised he would, but when she didn't answer the first time, he assumed she was still deep in needed slumber. The second time was approximately around ten at night, still no answer. The third and final time had been the next day-she didn't answer at all. He was confused and concerned. Harry drove straight to her house after work, parking in front of her home and knocking on the door. No answer. He didn't know why she was avoiding him. Maybe it had to do with what happened yesterday. To him, she was fine after he left. To her, she wasn't.

Estella heard the knocking switching into banging on her front door, but she ignored, knowing it was Harry. She sat on her bed, a glass of wine in her hand as she smoked yet another blunt, mascara running down her face along with the tears she had been producing for an hour now. She grew irritated by her phone ringing with the constant noise on her front door and answered his prayers. Walking down her spiral staircase and unlocking the door. Harry immediately walked in without seeing her face, Estella standing on the side and sighing when she heard him going on and on about not answering his calls.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" His voice boomed, echoing around the house. Estella closed her door, turning to see his red and heated face. "Huh? I've been calling you for two days straight and you're ignoring me, why?"

"Home," she said, so low he could barely hear her. "And yeah, I've been ignoring you, so what."

Harry was taken aback, his face drifting to a deep frown when he noticed her state. "So what? Are you kidding me?! You've been MIA since yesterday and I come here and you're like this?"

"Sorry to disappoint you, honey."

"What's going on with you? What happened?"

"This is my normal Sunday state." She shrugged.

"Estella, this isn't fucking funny." He walked toward her, gripping her arm to make her stop swaying. "It worried me sick about you. You can't do something like that."

"Yeah, well, you're here now."

He would say something else, but when he observed her face more, he noticed something in particular. There was a bit of white powder on the side of her nose and Harry flicked his thumb out to see what it was, rubbing the pad of his thumb and his pointer finger together to observe the substance more, Estella obnoxiously moving her face away with a groan. When he got a hint on what it was, he gave her a hard stare, snatching the glass of wine away from her and throwing it across the room, Estella flinching when she heard it break.

"Why the fuck are you doing cocaine?" He clenched his jaw, her eyes so dark and emotionless in response to his outburst it made him even angrier. "Tell me, Estella. Why are you doing it? Since when did you do this shit?!"

"I've been doing it ever since that night at Catatonic, sweetheart," she sniffled, turning her back to him, the sheer robe she wore turning with her and skimming across the marble tile. "Nothing new."

"You've done it before?" He frowned.

"I had an addiction last year and had treatment." She said bluntly.

"Well, I didn't know that because you didn't tell me. You don't tell me anything. How am I supposed to help you when you lie to me and keep shit to yourself?"

"That's the thing, Harry." She quickly turned back around to face him, pointing at his chest in anger. "You can't help. I'm sorry, but you can't. I've been broken for too many years of my life now and you can't understand that. There's nothing you can do to help me."