𝖎𝖓𝖖𝖚𝖎𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊.

020.

☽

SILENCE, ABSOLUTE SILENCE. THE atmosphere around her deemed it simply as utter quietness-As if she had been deaf. Lying flat on her cloud white duvet with little to no clothes on, body only covered in silky loose shorts and a ripped up band t-shirt, she stared at the ceiling and thought of nothing. There was nothing to say, nothing to do, just nothing. Faint noises of Harryʼ husky voice could be heard from the room she laid in, not being able to depict clearly the words that had been furiously streaming out of his mouth, but she knew it was work.

When wasn't it?

Estella felt drained. Emotionally, physically, mentally fucking drained. The altercation between her and Harry last night had worn her out, or maybe it was just the drugs. Her arms felt heavy, head pounding to a point where she didn't want to lift it. Legs felt as though they had been beat with a hammer and paralyzed. Her eyelids felt droopy, therefore she didn't attempt to fully lift them. She just felt tired, and she hated it.

Leveraging herself in actually taking a stand, she managed to get herself out of bed, scratching the top of her head which her eyes then spotted the gauze wrapped around her wrist, immediately assuming Harry had done that. And she didn't smile. Slipping on her fuzzy bunny slippers, she slowly strolled her way out of her room, following the echo of her boyfriend's voice throughout her home only to find him in her office. The door had been wide open, but she still softly knocked twice before walking in, this particular office being shared between the both of them from time to time considering he would leave half of his documents here. Even his second laptop.

Usually, when she saw his face, she would light up in bright beams of sunshine, her smile effortless to him each time. Only this time, it was bland. No emotions, no smile, no enthusiastic body posture-Nothing. When Harry saw her, he lowered his voice, feeling a bit guilty for being so loud because he assumed he had woken her up. He had the phone pressed to his ear, tiredly sinking his body into the faux leather spinning chair, his legs spread apart, body still attired with the clothing he had when he came over and her mind instantly got the thought that he didn't sleep.

As Estella took a seat on the desk in front of him, he gazed up at her, her dark hair resembling a jungle all over her round face. To give her more comfort, he set his hand on her thigh, Estella gulping, inattentively trailing her hand to touch his, Harry rubbing his fingers over her knuckles which had her closing her eyes, relaxing in her spot. Almost as if his touch made everything go away.

"James, I'm truthfully sick and tired of having constant fucking arguments with you every single day like we're a married couple. Except for the fact that I'm the smart woman who bakes apple pies and you're the clueless fucking old man with alzheimer's," Harry sneered into his phone, in a dangerously low tone it had goosebumps forming on her arms. "It's so funny how I'm still putting up with your shit. Today's a Sunday, a holy day matter-of-fact, and I'm seriously not in the mood for this. I have more important things to attend to right now so we'll finish this discussion when I come in tomorrow. Enjoy your day."

Once Harry hung up his phone, he let out a deep sigh, closing his puffy eyes and tossing his phone on the perfectly polished glass desk. And Estella cringed.

"That's 400 dollars you're tossing your phone on." She mumbled, flickering her eyes open to finally observe his face. And he was definitely worn out. As much as her.

"Sorry," He apologized, picking up his cellphone and properly setting it on top of a binder. He swallowed a lump in his throat, tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear, practically frizzy and even grown more in length than it ever was previously, before kissing the back of her hand. "How're you feeling?"