✓ lights /styles au/

20 Twist

you're far from me.

Josephine didn't leave Harry's apartment in the morning. Her body was aching and when he asked her if she wanted to accompany him to breakfast with his mother, she declined politely. He left some time ago and she found herself on the floor of his living room hours later. Alone.

Being alone had never bothered her before, but the silence in the apartment was too much to handle and she thought it would be wrong to call Harry and ask if it was too late to change her mind. Anne seemed like a nice person. She was warm and polite. Had so many laughter lines along her lips and creases by her eyes that reminded Jo of what she wanted to be when she got older.

The similarities between Harry and Anne were so obvious. Their eyes may not have been the same color, but they didn't have to be in order for them to carry the warmth in them that they did. Maybe it ran in the family. She let out a breath before reaching for her phone, deciding it would be best to at least get some work done if the alternative was to just sit around doing nothing. She scrolled through her contacts and found one of her clients' numbers, tapping the screen once before pressing the device to her ear.

It rang three times before the call was answered.

"Hello?" The man on the other end rasped. His voice was heavy and hoarse. It sounded too much like superiority to her. She was slightly intimidated by the power in just that one word.

"Mister West?" She began picking at her nails. Something she normally did when she was nervous. All of the light in the living room was nearly blinding. She had to avert her eyes to the floor to avoid the burn of the hue's intensity.

"Yes, ma'am," the man said. "Can I ask who's calling?"

"Of course. This is Josephine Small from Pastel Picture, the art gallery down on Twenty Second. I understand you were interested in...," she pulled the phone from her ear to glance at the contact information she'd given him. West, DttS. "Down to the Second?"

"I believe I was, yes. Is this about the painting being reserved? Can you not hold it for me any longer?"

"I just wanted to know if you were still interested. So many people have held reservations on paintings and never really affirmed them."

"I will come by tomorrow. Can I ask how much it is?"

"I'm afraid I don't-"

There was a sound at the door. Jo's ears perked up. It was loud and hard. Sounded rushed.

Like whoever was on the other side of it was angry. Maybe just nervous. She stood shakily to her feet and pulled Harry's large jumper further down her thighs despite the pants she was wearing. Her hair was a ruly mess of damp curls that sent refreshment to the bruises at her neck. When she was stood in front of the door, she leaned closer to look through the peep hole.

A man.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, but can I please call you back?"

"Yes, of course. I'm free anytime, Miss Small." He ended the call just as she opened the door.

The man's eyes were a bit irritated. He was wearing a suit and it took her a moment too long to realize there was a woman leaning against the wall with her arms at her sides. Unlike the man, she just looked bored. Her eyes were empty and almost too dry.