Ebony & Ivory [H.S]

Fifty-Eight

"We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me. Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat"

Smash!

Sitting up in my half asleep, half awake state, my heart pounds through my chest like a beating drum.

Oh God. Someone is trying to break in.

Instinctively I grab my phone on my bedside table, and hit 999 as I scramble to hide underneath the bed.

Why does this occur the one night Harry goes out, leaving me on my own to defend myself? The thing that concerns me most is that it isn't just me that I now have to look out for, but the growing baby inside of me.

"Police, fire, or ambulance?" the rather tired sounding operator asks on the other line.

"Police," I whisper, listening intently to the sounds of the house, trying to gage the intruder's whereabouts.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to repeat yourself there," she states.

"Fück!" I hear exclaimed, before a loud clanging sound, recognising Harry's cry of pain. Hanging the phone up, I wriggle out from underneath the bed, feeling quite silly about the entire ordeal, thankful that no one had been there to witness it.

Walking out into the entranceway, Harry rests with his back against the wall, looking quite sullen with his head in his hands. The shattered remnants of the vase he's destroyed upon his return beside him, and yet it is he who seems more broken of the pair.

"You right Harry?" I ask, trying my best to keep his spirits up, and also curious as to what's made him like this to begin with.

He doesn't look up, or even acknowledge me in any kind of way. He just sits there in desolate silence, wallowing in his self pity.

Is this about us?

Looking up, he finally meets my gaze, and he stares me down, pained expression and all. Never have I seen him like this. Not to this extent. Crouching down, I place my hand on his back, trying to soothe him, despite not knowing what plagues his troubled mind.