Interlude [h.s]

fifty-six

She doesn't feel like showering anymore.

She doesn't move for hours.

The next time she looks up, the sky on the other side of the window at the very end of the living room has turned dark. She dares to glance into the room, but Harry must've turned off the light sometime in the past few hours, and she can't see anything.

"I'll be back soon," she whispers into the darkness, and her only reply is silence.

She leaves the apartment and locks the front door, even though she feels uneasy at the thought of leaving Harry alone. She ends up visiting a small shop only ten minutes away from the apartment, resorting to keeping her head down not to catch anyone's attention.

She buys some water bottles, and is on her way to the checkout when her eyes fall on a shelf of cookies. Yesterday, Harry hated the pizza she got for him. She got mad at him then, but maybe it was more her fault than his. She should've thought about getting him something that would suit his taste more. And despite him denying it, she has a feeling he does like sweets.

She gets a box of chocolate chip cookies and reaches the cash register. She pays for everything and walks out.

The sky is dark now, and she can almost see the stars. Almost. She makes her way back to her building as fast as possible, not wanting to risk making any unnecessary encounters.

When Alouette enters the apartment again, all the lights are off.

She turns on the light in the corridor and dares to sneak a glance inside the spare bedroom as she walks past. Harry is still nothing more than a dark shadow on the floor, against the wall.

It's been four hours.

She wants to walk inside and apologise for what happened, but she can't find the courage to do so. She'd never even thought there would be a possibility he'd react like this to being locked in a room for a few minutes, and now she wonders if she unknowingly upset him not only today, but all the times she left him alone in the apartment. Not knowing where his boundaries lie scares her, because she doesn't want to hurt him. She wonders whether he'd worry the same way if their roles were reversed.

She nears the room three more times throughout the rest of the evening, but can't get herself to walk inside. At ten she finally gives up and goes to sleep, but she wakes up barely an hour later. She tries to fall asleep again and again, but there's no use.

At one in the morning she steps into the corridor again and turns on the light. A glance inside the spare bedroom tells her that Harry still hasn't moved. This time around she stops by the kitchen and picks up the box of cookies she bought.

Alouette opens it and enters the spare bedroom, taking a seat a few feet away from Harry, her back against the wall. "Aren't you sleeping?" she asks gently, but her words are only met by hostile silence.

She glances at Harry. He has lifted his head, but it's hard to make out the look on his face in the faint electrical light coming from the corridor. She tentatively puts the cookie box on the floor and pushes it towards him with a finger.

He looks down at the space between them. "What's this?" he asks. His voice sounds rougher than usual, and she doesn't know if it's because of the shouting or because he hasn't used it in hours.

"My apology," she whispers back. "I'm sorry for locking you in here. I should've asked beforehand, but you were asleep."

"Why did you?"

"I wanted to have a shower but couldn't find the key to the front door, so I thought I'd lock you in the room to make sure you wouldn't escape..." She pauses. "Thinking about it, it was pretty stupid. I really didn't think you'd notice though, it was only supposed to be for some minutes and you were sleeping..."