i just need you to tell me everything is all right.
"Please leave a message after the tone; from Mother: Hey Josie, it's mom. I know you're not your best right now, but I need to know when you're free next week so we can have the service and then the funeral."
"Please leave a message after the tone; from Mother: Dan and I have chosen a date for the service. We think it's best to have it on a Thursday. I know you have an event that day, but family is more important."
"Please leave a message after the tone; from Mother: It's step dad here. I know things are pretty tough for you, but your mother is suffering too and you can't be selfish."
"Please leave a message after the tone; from Harry: I hope you're okay."
"Please leave a message after the tone; from Mother: Your father would be very disappointed."
"Please leave a message after the tone: from Harry: Forgive me?"
She hasn't been answering calls.
It's passed four days and she's beginning to scare herself. Because all she keeps hearing are dial tones and voices. She keeps hearing condescending declarations and sad concerns.
Josephine's been silencing her phone and feeling bad for herself. She's feeling bad for Harry too, because he's leaving voicemails and she's not touched one. She's not mad at him or mad at her mom. She's mad at herself. She skimmed through her unread messages, two from him that sounded a little depressing.
Harry: I don't know what happened.
Harry: I'm freaking out.
She turned her phone off when her mother's messages began entwining themselves with Harry's. Only hers were demanding and sympathetic. And Josephine hated when people felt bad for her, so she stayed home alone.
She was listening to music when her doorbell rang. It was sudden and interrupted her favorite song, but she sat up slowly, melancholy burning in her throat at the thought of having someone around.
She didn't want people to know she was sad. Didn't want people to know she wasn't prone to feeling as bad as she felt.
Jo pulled the door open and sucked in a breath at Harry's pink face. He wasn't wearing a coat which had to be why he was shaking so much. His hands were stuck in his hair, pulling at the strands like he wanted to get rid of them. Maybe he did.
"Harry-" she fell silent, eyes trailing over his bloodshot eyes and then to how hard he was biting into his lip. She suddenly forgot what she could possibly say. Was he drunk? High? Just sad? "Do you need water?"
"No," he said quietly, a fine spray of red automizing from his mouth and onto his lips. She stared wide eyed as he weakly wiped the blood away. She didn't think she'd ever see a Harry without any scars. He shrugged and frowned. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you okay?"
"Have you been drinking?"
"No, Jo. I'm sober and I want to know if you're okay. Just wanted to make sure you were still...here."
YOU ARE READING
✓ lights /styles au/
أدب الهواةWhere Harry is blind and only sees muffled lights and shadows and the person he falls in love with doesn't even know it. "Let me help you." "You can't even see." "I can see the lights." "That's not enough." COMPLETED