Yellow || hs au

|35|

—

  Stepping into Harry's apartment has never seemed so scary. My heart is in my throat as I fully step in. My eyes are squinted, waiting to see what I had the first time this happened, although now I was slightly and shamefully expecting it and wouldn't be thrown off guard.

  But to my surprise, the living room is spotless. My shoes don't crunch down any broken glass which is a good sign. However, it's completely silent. I breathe heavily as I walk forward and glance down both of the hallways.

  "Harry?" I call out, walking down towards his bedroom. I step into his bedroom, his distinct scent bringing a warm feeling to my chest, but he isn't here and my worry overpowers that. His bed is unmade like usual and I set his gift on the side table as I move to the bathroom.

  The bathroom is empty. So I call his name out again, a bit louder this time. My heart rate picks up when the only thing I hear back is the slight echo of my own voice causing me to walk out of his room, grabbing the bag that holds his necklace.

  "Harry I'm not kidding, answer me!" I call out, walking down the other hallway to his music room. I know he wouldn't be in there, but it wouldn't hurt to look. And when I open the door, I find that my thoughts were right. Empty.

  I rush out to the living room, my feet coming to an abrupt halt when I see it. Three orange syringes and needles on the coffee table.

  My heart sinks in my throat as thick tears well up in my eyes as I sit on the couch, my face falling into my palms. He relapsed again. And this time he lied to me about it. I choke out a sob, my arms wrapped over my stomach as I draw in a shaky breath, staring at the needles with hurt. He lied to me. He lied to me to go and get high.

  I swallow hard as I stand from the couch, fumbling as I tug my phone out of my jackets pocket, scrolling to Tiffs name. My chest aches with hurt and worry as I begin pacing.

  "I think Harry might've relapsed again, can you come get me?" I speak into the phone when Tiff answers. She doesn't hesitate to tell me she's on her way before ending the call.

  My hands shake viciously as I take another look at the syringes on the coffee table, my head shaking as I wipe under my eyes. Spinning on my heels, I move to the front door and leave Harry's apartment with nerves and utter worry.

  Not only is he high, he's missing. If he lied to me about being with Zayn, than I have no doubt he lied to Zayn as well. So basically none of us know where Harry is, who he's with, and if he's okay.

  Soon enough, I'm sitting in Zayn's luxurious apartment, my leg tapping at a concerning pace as my lips are pressed to my knuckles, Zayn pacing the floor in front of us with his phone held to his ear.

  "Nothing." He mutters, my hope decreasing by the second when he tosses his phone onto the couch, running his fingers through his hair with a frustrated sigh. "Don't panic, Clover, I have a few places in mind that he would go to at a time like this." He speaks.

  "I'm scared, I've never dealt with this kind of stuff before." I mutter, feeling another fresh wave of tears start to prick my eyes as my nose starts to sting.

  "Well Z has, and he's going to find Harry." Tiff assures me, her nails running up and down my back in a soft and slow motion as an attempt to calm my spiked up nerves.

  "I'll go now. Tiff, keep your phone on, I'll keep you guys updated." Zayn tells us, snagging his phone from the couch, along with his keys before he's gone.

  "Why do I feel like this is my fault." I sob into my hands, hearing Tiff suck in a sharp breath as her motions on my back stop for a moment before continuing.