Quiet Little French Girl. [h.s.]

Solace; Home.

Solace.

I have been in perpetual night for seven days.

Working, sleeping and eating - that's all I've done for the past week since she left.

The walk of ultimate shame she must have felt when she passed through our apartment, her peers watching on in absolute horror and grief. Ben and Lucy chased her tail moments after the apartment door clicked shut. After that, the quiet air was palpable, every single second that slipped by was as silent as the woman that had left only moments previous. Her feet dragging against the floor heavily and her deflated sniffles echoing even after she'd left, everyone averted their eyes from my direction with an occasional brave glance to assess my state of mind.

She left me. Odette was gone.

The white gold ring still remained on the table staring at me pitifully as I attempted to regain composure and figure out my next steps. My mind trying to convince me that I still had a sliver of hope somewhere in my disheartened soul, she had gone and therefore as a result, I was left with nothing. No amount of property or wealth could ever make up for the dreaded loss I felt in my chest, the deep concave resting over where my heart once sat before she left with it in her sullen grasp.

The first night without her was without doubt the hardest hurdle I've had to overcome in my life thus far, the loss of her gentle skin next to mine or the way she cradled me as we slept, I missed it all without fault, the scented perfume she used to wear has now faded from her pillow and I'm left with only a distant memory. Hours feel like years, and going back to work with a lump in my throat was humiliating, I couldn't hide my devastation with a brave face, there was no way I had the energy to pretend that everything was going to be okay, I knew quite well that it was the beginning of the end for me.

Lucy's appearance at our apartment door the following day was a deep blow to the task force that was slowly trying to bandage my broken heart, the collection of a few toiletries or clothes was bound to be inevitable - but the reality was something I could never have prepared for. She stood there, a pitied look smothered across her features, slowly evolving into shock when she noticed my broken state, my heart shattering like a piece of broken glass being smashed against a wall in front of her. My tear ducts took to their own release and allowed me to be overwhelmed with sorrow, Lucy embraced me without question and carried my weakened frame towards the couch as my knees began to give way beneath me. Lucy didn't expect my reaction by any means, her eyes leaking also and her voice whispering to find comfort without luck. She understood my solace. She felt it.

"Harry I-..." Her attempt was futile, her apology disregarded. I didn't need an apology, I needed Odette.

My sobs hardened, shoulders shaking as she rocked the both of us back and forth before handing me to my mother who had rushed in, dropping her loaded bags of shopping and enveloping her heartbroken son in an embrace, her comforting me the only a mother could. "Shhh, baby. Shh..."

The memory is enough to haunt me until the end of days, but somehow with my mother and the lads by my side I have been able to take things second by second. "Odette is okay Harry, don't worry." Niall's words resonate in my mind, and although I know they are a complete lie, I find comfort knowing that my friends are trying to comfort me in the only way they know how; telling me that Odette is okay lightens the weight on my heart, thankful that she isn't going through the same emotional destruction that I am, I couldn't bare to think of her in such a way - but even though I hope and pray that she is all smiles, continuing on with her life as normal, I'm well aware of the reality that she is just as devastated as I am.

The apartment is empty without her, her belongings still remain in their perfect state within our wardrobe and the flowers I bought are as bright as the morning of her birthday when I bought them; however, some things are different. Her toothbrush doesn't reside next to mine anymore, the scent of her perfume has slithered out of the apartment and is replaced by coffee most days, and the walls aren't lined with pictures of the two of us together anymore - they have all been moved into our bedroom as a substitute, so that in a way, I have her there when I go to sleep, like I used to.