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The floor seemed wonderfully solid. It was comforting to know I had fallen and I could fall no further. -Sylvia Plath
Avery hissed in pain, the shards of broken ceramic she had been trying to pick up falling back down to the floor beneath her. She sat there totally still for a moment, watching the steady stream of blood flow down her arm. "Fuck" the sobs she had been trying to keep in finally escaping, causing something to snap inside of her. She shot up from the ground, opening the closest cabinet, and throwing its contents, their broken pieces covering the entirety of her kitchen floor.
Her shaky, unsteady legs carry her to the bathroom, in search of the pills that she hoped would end whatever this was. Her uninjured hand grasped the doorknob, revealing the wrecked state that the bathroom was in. "Wh- where are they?" She murmurs, her vision becoming more blurred by the second, her steady stream of tears only picking up pace. She rummages through every package she can find, only to come up empty handed. "No, no, no... I need them... please." Her lungs feel so small. With every breath she takes it only feels like she is losing more and more oxygen.
She was able to make it to the living room before collapsing onto the ground, her body shaking with such intensity it sent her straight to the floor. She didn't have the energy to sit up anymore. With the tears continuously flowing, her lungs gasping for air, she wishes she were not so alone. No one, not even Oliver was here now. She was always alone. Her chest is tight and she doesn't know what to do, she is afraid to wait all of this out, it's too painful. It has never been this bad before.
"You are fine, Avery," she whispers to herself, almost like a mantra. "Ave... you are okay." the nickname doesn't sound right coming from her own lips, it sounds much better the way Harry says it. Her gaze fell on her phone, which had fallen down on the floor somewhen during the night's events. She managed to crawl her way towards it, picking it up with shaking hands. She searches for Harry's name in her limited contact list and presses the call button without a second thought.
She tries to regain her breathing as the dialling sound echoes through the walls of her flat. "Ave?" Harry's groggy voice greets her, one glance to the top of her phone screen would tell her that it is just past 3 am. Avery tries and fails to hold back another fit of sobs. They travel through the halls, their volume intensifying.
"Avery?" He sounds a lot more awake now, aware that something is wrong. She can hear the distant rustling of sheets, because that's what people did at this time of the morning, sleep. "What happened? What's going on?"
She can't bring herself to say anything, her lungs feel so small and breathing seems so hard. "Ave... everything is okay. You're okay... try to take some deep breaths for me. Everything is going to be just fine."
"Harry.." a whisper is all she can muster. "I-I don't know what to do..."
"Why don't you know what to do? What happened, Ave?" He asks calmly, now wide awake.
"I don't know- there ar-are mugs on the floor an-and I can't find my pills, Harry. I can't find them and I-I dont feel good at all. I feel really bad and I don't know how to make it stop because the-they're all gone... they're gone."
"I'm on my way, okay?" He immediately replies. "I am going to be there as soon as possible. Make yourself a cup of tea and just sit down on the couch, okay? We are going to fix this. Can you do that for me, Ave?"
"But everythings on the fl-floor" She chokes, her tears only making it harder to speak. "There's so much glass, it's everywhere..."
"Then just sit down and wait for me. Don't go in the kitchen, Ave, you're just going to hurt yourself and we don't want that. Just sit down. I'm on my way."
"Okay."
~
Harry had never ran this fast in his life. His uncle's car was returned only a couple of days ago, leaving the subway as the only other option, and god was he lucky for London's night tube. He couldn't sit down, jumping out of the train before the doors could open properly. Harry quickly climbed the stairs, rushing down the street that had begun to look so familiar.
He soon reached her building, his fingertips urgently pressing the doorbell. The door never opened, which only increased his ever growing worry. He could see that Avery's flat window was illuminated, and so was the one above her. He remembered her mentioning that she had a neighbor, Sam. Harry went back to the doorbell, this time pressing the one labeled with the name Sam Miller.
"Hello?"
"Sorry for this mate, but could you open the door? Please, It's an emergency."
"Uhm... sure." Sam says, a mere second later the door opens.
"Thank you." Harry tells the boy before ascending up the stairs. He soon stood outside of her door, frantically searching for a key. He bends down to lift up the door mat, finding nothing. After turning over the single plant pot that was outside, he reached for the top of the door frame and let out a relieved sigh. "Shit place to hide a key."
The sight that his eyes fall upon when he finally manages to get the door open breaks his heart. He had seen some of the closest people in his life in absolute disarray. He had found Francis in a number of situations that had been imprinted on his memory for years now. But this was different. What he saw in front of him left him utterly speechless. She looked so completely lost on the kitchen floor, clutching her bleeding hand close to her chest, the porcelain shards surrounding her shaking body.
"Ave," Harry murmurs, closing the door slowly behind him, trying not to scare her. He carefully approached her, she was only wearing a thin t-shirt and a pair of shorts, goosebumps covered her arms. "Ave, what happened?"
Her head turns towards him. Her eyes are red and puffy, the skin of her cheeks raw, she looked so different compared to this morning. This morning everything was perfect, and now every ounce of good seemed to have been left behind on the dunes of the beach. "I-I wanted to make tea... but I stepped in a shard and I don't wanna look because it hurts, there's a lot of blood. I don't wanna look."
"Alright," he replies, giving her the warmest smile he can muster. "Stay still for me, okay?" He kneels down beside her, brushing a couple loose strands of her hair away from her face, before carefully picking her up and placing her on the counter top. He reaches for her left foot, where the injury seems to be, and finds that it is a rather small cut. "Can I see your hand?" The cut on her hand was much worse, but after cleaning and sealing it with a plaster it wasn't too bad.
Harry himself started to shiver at the temperature of the apartment. He told her to change and while she did so, he swept up the broken dishware, turned on the heater, and closed the balcony door that had let in the cold winter air. He couldn't help but think about Oliver, hoping that he was somewhere warm and cozy, sleeping peacefully.
I'm not going to lie, a totally different chapter was going to go up today, but I have been struggling with motivation for a bit. I love writing and it brings me so much joy, I am just having a hard time finding the will to do it at all. I am trying to stick to my updating schedule and plan to do so. The chapter that was going to go up today will make an appearance somewhen down the road, just trying to decide when.
Now, different topic. We've got a new cover and overall aesthetic! Woot woot! All of the header photos I put in this story are now the same size, chapter names look more aesthetically pleasing, and a new cover that yours truly made them self's! As far as further changes go, I think I might go back and change a couple of quotes to be more fitting with what happens in the chapter, but that is it! May things be smooth sailing from here♥️✨🦋
