Anchor {h.s}

thirty

It was a little later in the day when Harry said that he had to go and that we probably wouldn't see each other the next day. I asked him what he had planed, the question innocent, generated from simple curiosity, but Harry had kept his answers shorts, which made a completely normal situation into something suspicious. It brought a sickening feeling to my stomach, but I didn't want to push it. I knew that Harry had made a lot of efforts in the past days and I didn't want to overlook that. He probably had plans with his friends and didn't see the use in giving me more details, and I had to live with that.

However, as much as I wanted to trust him, the second he left my apartment, all there was left for me to do was wonder where he was and what he was doing. After only a few minutes, it was obvious that I needed to get busy, or else I would get into this never ending spiral of worry. So I grabbed some gloves, took out the cleaning kit we had under our kitchen sink and started to scrub everything that came into view.

For once in my life, I wished that I was working on my day off; because work was something that I enjoyed and that easily took my mind off of things. I loathed cleaning with a passion, but sometimes, like right now, it was a welcomed distraction.

I hated the thoughts that slowly crept into my mind and tried to scrub the sink a little harder, hoping that as the stains would fade, so would the thoughts. In a way, cleaning helped, because I focused on getting rid of the dirt, but it wasn't as effective on my mind as I wanted it to be. I had to remind myself that I was giving Harry a chance, that I had decided to trust him in order for us to work.

As I washed, time went by quickly, and before I knew it, it was 8 in the evening and the apartment was completely clean. I stood in the middle of the living room, satisfied with the work I had done and pleased that I had succeeded to partially take my mind off Harry for a few hours.

I took out my phone from my back pocket, to see if I had any messages. As much as I tried to convince myself that I wasn't checking if I had messages from Harry exclusively, I was conscious that it was exactly what I was doing. I kept hoping, even if I knew that Harry wasn't one to text first. He always preferred calling as it was "much more efficient", he had said once. Therefore, it was clearly a surprise when I saw his name on the screen of my phone.

Quickly I swiped my fingers across the screen, entering my password, missing twice, before finally unlocking my phone and reading his message.

*Hi. Hope you're having a good day. Miss you xx.*

It was a simple message, yet it brought the biggest smile on my face. I found it incredibly sweet that he took the time to text me. It was unusual but also a clear proof that he was actually trying at this, which made it a thousand times better.

My thumbs hovered the screen for a few seconds while I wondered what I was supposed to reply. I didn't want to seem clingy or needy, even if that was how I felt. I tried to sound casual, typing a quick 'Had a nice day, thanks. You?' but deleted it as soon as finished writing it. I changed it to 'cleaned the whole place, what'd you do?', but deleted it again.

I sighed, wondering why sending a reply was so complicated and realized that it didn't have to be, I was just overthinking everything.

*I miss you too* I pressed send quickly before I could change my mind, my heart suddenly beating a little faster.

The front door swung open as I received the confirmation that my message had been sent and I almost dropped my phone in surprise. I felt as if I had been caught doing something wrong, when I really wasn't.

Wendy entered the apartment and threw her bag on the floor with a loud sigh. I stayed frozen in the middle of the living room and watched her roughly taking her shoes off. She finally lifted her head, her eyes landing on me and realizing that I was there.