Dealing With Absence » h. styles au

43ᴿᴰ CHAPTER

                                        43ᴿᴰ CHAPTER 

      "Following all the rules leaves a completed checklist. Following your heart achieves a completed you" 

It’s become nagging, at this point.

How Harry barely shows up by the café anymore; how he rarely stays at his own room; how short time he spends in London. Even more, how Elisha misses him so badly it’s hurtful.

All of sudden things went from wine to water – or water to wine, whatever –, and it seems like she can barely be considered a friend of his.

The warehouse still has a lot of work to be done – the outside being the worst –, but Harry’s already gotten people to build walls and remove the old wooden floor, replace it by new, polished ones. The windows have been changed, so have the doors, and now there’s a second floor that can be considered appropriated.

The handrails have still to be added, if he’s even adding any, that is. The steps are also made of wood, the first flight of stairs leading to some sort of platform with missing rails (those he’ll add, for sure), before there’s another flight of stairs leading to the floor above.

Harry’s told her he asked Zayn to take care of one of the room’s paintings, the area he’s designed to be the ‘epiphany room’. Basically, the room of the works he has done without much thought to it, just the ‘sudden need to pull all the feelings out of his chest’, according to his own words.

The rest he’s doing by himself, taking his time with each detail, each colour that seems to have its right, specific place on a certain wall. He is doing a jaw-dropping job at it, is the thing, but it all comes with costs he cannot afford working at the carwash only, and so the number of trips he’s taken lately has increased so much Leesh barely has the time to figure whether he’s leaving or arriving home whenever she sees him.

Her weekends have turned into frequent visits at his future gallery with a thick book in hands, and she usually just lies there in the mattress he has moved to the very back of the room; spends those two days reading and hoping he might walk in at an moment.

It’s never happened so far, mostly because on weekends he’s busier than the rest of the week, and by the time he comes back to work more on the painting, Leesha’s at the café completely obnoxious to his presence. She only finds out about it hours later, when he’s already gone, and the strong smell of paint remains.

It is almost like fate doesn’t want her to see him anymore, making her appear hours after his gone – or it could perfectly be simple minutes, as far as she knows.

Thinking back now, his birthday almost feels like the mark of the change. (The morning next she woke up alone in his bed again, though this time not only was he absent amongst the sheets, but also from anywhere in the room.)

She sighs.

Dora takes a seat next to hers and the chair squeaks under her weight and as she moves. Once settled, the old lady slides a mug on the table surface towards Leesh, one that smells suspiciously like the caffeine she so much needs right now.

It’s with a silent thanks that she takes it between her palms and lets it rest there, waiting for the warmth to wrap her fingertips and shoo away the freezing temperature of her hands. It’s not even that cold anymore, seeing as though spring is much closer than the expected.

“He’s gotten you, hasn’t he?” Dorothy is tentative, as well as the smile on her face, that for once seems more concerned than the actual bright ones she wears on a daily basis.