SAVED

Chapter 9

(sorry that this chapter’s a bit short. i’ve been stressed about an upcoming surgery and i’ve been sick and not feeling well at all. but i’ll start the next chapter as soon as i can. thanks for reading!) 

The motivation to finish my half completed paper is gone. I had been on such a roll and was in my element before being rudely disrupted out of thought. Now I could care less. All my mind could focus on is pain. I pinch the bridge of my nose before looking down at the first text I received in what is probably the past six months. 

“Hey! Are you still on campus?” 

I glance at the time and realize that I would have got out of Photography a little bit ago if class hadn’t been cancelled. I want to kick myself hard for ever coming home. You could be hanging out with Harry right now. I sulk back in my chair and wipe a tear from my eye. My subconscious knows either event would have ended badly. 

“Unfortunately not. My last class got cancelled so I just went home. ):” I reply back.

He’ll probably think I’m so lame. I’ve got the heart of NYC at my fingertips and I come home to deal with this bullshit. I’m such an idiot. 

The foreboding feeling of worthlessness has just grew a new set of wings in the back of my mind. After fifteen minutes and no response from Zayn, I toss my phone in my drawer and do my best to fight the urge to do something I know I’ll regret. 

Within the next few hours I have accomplished nothing except probably breaking the record for the most tears shed. It’s something that occurs at least every other night and it wears me out but it’s not really something I can control. It would be strange for me to not be having breakdowns due to how often they occur. It’s more of a harsh, nightly battle between me and my subconscious. She always wins but then again I always let her. 

I wake up to my phone going off and I realize it’s dark. Dark and quiet. It’s two in the morning. I glance at it quickly and end the call after not recognizing the number and force my swollen eyes shut before hitting the pillow hard. Not even a minute later my phone goes off again and this time I’m just annoyed. I was in a dead sleep with the intention of never waking up. I need to start shutting my phone off before bed. I recognize it’s the same number and fiercely answer the call. 

“Who the fu-” 

“Emma?” My heart stops at the familiar British accent on the other end of the line and I forget how to breathe. “Shit, sorry wrong num-”

“No, it’s me. I’m here...” My voice is nearly unrecognizable. It’s low and raspy and sounds like I just smoked a whole pack of cigarettes. No wonder he almost hung up. 

I could hear music and people talking in the background but it diminishes in the passing seconds. Where could he possibly be at this hour and why is he even calling me? “Oh hey, love. It’s Harry. I didn’t wake you did I?” I have a feeling he’d be genuinely sorry if he knows he did. 

Yes you did but that’s perfectly okay with me. Maybe hearing his voice is what I need tonight. “Nope.” I clear my throat and sit up in bed before turning the light on. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? You sound a bit...” His voice trails off. “Have you been crying Emma?” He sounds concerned but I’m not giving in. 

“No.” I stammer. 

“You’re lying.”

I huff in frustration and rub my eyes, the crying strain now clear in my voice. “Why do you even care Harry? Where are you at this hour and why are you calling me?” I hope the annoyance in my voice didn’t come off as bad on his end. I just want answers. The last thing I need is some attractive guy messing with my emotions again. “Harry...?” 

A few seconds pass but I don’t hear him and nearly start sobbing when the line goes dead.