SAVED

Chapter 47

(i’m really sorry, i meant to update sooner but got caught up with some really bad writers block. thats the worst. ): but anyway, thanks again to everyone who commented! please vote and comment again to let me know what you guys think! hope you enjoy the chapter! i'll update when this gets 3-5 comments.) 

Harry’s POV

Visions of Emma’s tear stained face course through my mind and send me waking in a cold sweat. I’m met with a throbbing headache as I attempt to rise from the couch and the flat is now glowing with vibrant pinks and oranges as the sun begins to slowly set. I must have been out for quite some time and shockingly enough it wasn’t due to alcohol. 

Smashing the vodka was just a typical reaction of me handling fucked up news. It was a pain to clean up and I would have just left it there if Emma wasn’t coming later. The last thing I want is to put even more stress on her, yet I’m faced with the fact that her father is basically a fucking murderer. Liam could have been killed. I’m not expecting her to react well, but maybe it will give her even more reason to want to stay here in the city...with me. 

About an hour has passed and all I’ve done is read over texts and aimlessly browse through a stack of my mum’s cookbooks. Emma hasn’t even bothered to contact me once since I left which only adds another round of stress and paranoia. I’ve waited long enough. I need to at least hear her voice.

I scratch nervously at my leg in hopes that she picks up. This is another new thing that has come along with our relationship. Anxiety. I guess I’m to blame for most of it, but I never felt the need to worry like this in any past relationship. In the past I was aware that my actions has consequences but I was a fucking idiot and didn’t care at the time. I’m not that same guy. I’m not. 

“Hello?”

She sounds off. Not off as in upset like she was before, but rather...worried.

“Um, hey Em. You doing alright?”

“I’m alright I guess.”

The sad tone to her voice still hasn’t faded. I frown at the thought of it remaining for quite some time. 

“Well I’m at my place if you want to come by. You are still coming, right?”

My question could basically pass for a pathetic beg. One from a broken man who doesn’t deserve love. I don’t deserve anyone. I don’t deserve her. I know I don’t. 

I need her.

“Well honestly I’ve been thinking and-”

“Where are you? Are you with him?”

“How can you honestly ask me that? And even if I was why would it matter?”

A minute hasn’t even passed and I’ve already annoyed her. Way to go, Harry. I couldn’t help but ask, though. It’s been one of the many things eating at my mind since I left her.

“I-I don’t know. What were you going to say? I’m sorry...”

My hair has run flat due to the amount of times I’ve run my hand through it. Nervous habit I guess. 

“Nevermind.” She sighs.

“No. Tell me.”

“You’re home?”

“Yeah. I told you I was coming here didn’t I?”

“Where’s Lauren?”

“I haven’t spoken to her since last night. I swear it.”

She’s probably questioning whether or not she should believe me. I wouldn’t if I was her.

“I don’t want to talk about Lauren. I want to focus on you.” I add.