RUNAWAY [[A Harry Styles and Marcel fanfic]]

c-eight-

CHAPTER EIGHT

~.*.*.*.~

"Hello?" she asks again in her irritated tone, and it is confirmed it is she.

"Caty?" I snap before she opens her mouth again.

"jesus." She yells. "Abby! Shit where the hell did you disappear?" She whispers, and i know she is holding the phone too close to her mouth. "Your parents are panicking here!" she croaks.

"Are they still there? The Youngs?" I ask.

"Yeah. They won't let you run away just like that so easy." I feel her rolling her eyes. "Let me find a room to talk properly." Half a minute pass and I hear her voice clearly again. "So... where the fuck are you?"

"I...umm...am at..." Harry shoots a threatening glare in my direction by widening his eyes at me. "At a friend's place."

"Who again?" she enquires.

"Never mind." i roll my eyes. She is fucking impossible.

She huffs, "When are you going to come back?"

"Never."

"What?" She starts in a scream but only a whisper leaves her mouth in the end.

"You fucking have no clue what shit is going on here. We've only not checked under the sofas, that's every fucking where we have looked for you." She resumes whispering.

"I can't return God damn it." I scream, taking the advantage of the fact I am really away from home.

"Holy shit, hold on a sec." She says and I hear a lot of cracking noises follow. I am confused, and I make faces, trying to hear as much as I can.

"What are you doing here?" a voice says and I can faintly hear them speak.

"Just checking here as well." Caty's voice is clearer, so I am assuming the phone is still with, or near Caty.

"Did you find her?"

"No Mrs Edwards."

Holy shit!

I almost drop the phone and start to panic and move back and forth across the room frantically, with one hand on my hips, still wearing the extended version of my fucking tutu.

"I have sent men at your place. Just so she decides to pay you girls a visit."

"That's fine Mrs Edwards." She says sadly.

"Hello." I speak. There's no response. I speak again, "Hell?"

"yeah, " she replies, pissed.

"What do I do?" I cry into the phone.

"Fucking come back, get married, and get done with this shit."

"I can't." I sob. No, I am profusely crying.

"Thanks to you, I have men watching over my house. How fucked up is that?"

"I don't understand what to do!" The hysterics leave my mouth.

"I don't know man." We stay quiet for a little while. I can't even get myself to look at Harry now.

"I need to go, sorry Abby. Its either you come home or you stay where you are. Do not try our phones because they are all on tracking modes. So you better don't try to call us if you don't want to come back. She barely finishes when she disconnects the call.

I sit back at the chair of the dining table, burying my face in my hands. I have lost my heartbeat, and a low thump is felt in my stomach, that only goes once in a while.