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No other words were spoken until the three of us were safely inside of the house, and now that the power was back on for, everybody was feeling much more at ease to have Harry safely back.

Once we entered the house and shut the door, Harry did something to the alarm system that had shut off due to the power going out, and the beeping that had been going off due to the inactivity finally stopped. Louis shrugged off his poncho like jacket and smiled at his friend, who had no emotion clear on his face as he also took his jacket off to hang it up on the coat rack, "Didn't peg you as a handy man, mate." It was meant to be a joke, but Harry didn't seem to be enthused about it, which led me to believe that something bad did happen while he was gone for so long. I felt uneasy about it, but I was successfully able to push it all aside just because of the fact that he was here and in one piece with no visible cuts or bruises that would have led me to believe he was in some sort of accident or altercation. Regardless of his absence, I was just happy to have him home.

Harry mumbled something under his breath and then turned to look at me, who was still wearing an extremely soaked jacket, and he said, "You're going to get sick if you keep that on, Olsen."

I nodded my head and took it off as well, leaving me in a long sleeved shirt and jeans that were both slightly damp from the heavy rain, and I didn't say a word. After I took my jacket off and hung it up, Louis and Harry looked at each other briefly before Louis asked, "Now that we're all here, how about a drink?"

I politely declined, "I think I'll be alright."

"I'll get something, Lou." Harry said before disappearing down the hallway, and seconds later I heard a door open, which was most likely the one to his study.

I stared down the hallway in the direction that Harry went in, and Louis must have noticed my worried expression because I then felt his hand on my shoulder again, which caused me to now look at him. He offered me a comforting smile and said, "I'll talk to him, don't worry." I just nodded my head, and tried my best to put on a smile that would tell him that I wasn't worried anymore, even though I was. "After a few drinks he'll tell me just about anything, anyway." Louis joked, which did make me laugh just a bit. Harry didn't seem to be much of a drinker, but if what Louis just said was the truth then I suppose that was why Harry didn't drink much. It was unlike Harry to pour his heart out so easily, or let someone know exactly what was on his mind without the other person having to ask, but alcohol did tend to speed along the process for him. I knew that first hand, but even though I thought it was rather exciting to see him get so bold and confident after having one too many, I obviously preferred a sober Harry simply because that was the version of him that I came to know and fall in love with.

I excused myself to go upstairs and change into something less wet, and then I offered Louis something else to wear from Harry's closet, which I didn't know if it would work but I wanted to be polite. Louis shook his head and winked, "Nah, I'll be fine." I nodded my head again and we parted ways, with me going towards the base of the stairs and Louis heading towards the study where Harry still was. I could hear the television going off in the distance, and all seemed well for now that the worry was gone. Unfortunately for me, I still felt as if there was some tension in the air now that Harry returned home, but I suppose the only thing that I could do was see if Louis could figure it out, or wait until Harry told me himself whenever that may be.

Once I shut the door to our bedroom, I felt my cellphone vibrate not once, but twice inside of my pocket. I pulled it back out and checked the screen to see that I had two messages, one of them was from the unknown number that I now knew by heart since it always seemed to appear in my phone, which was Evan, and then there was surprisingly one from Harry. I didn't know which one to look at first since they both intrigued me in different ways, but when Evan texted me once more, I decided to open his first and see what he was raving on about now. I hated to admit it, but even though I had no interest in speaking to Evan even if he was in town to allegedly see me, I could never seem to delete the messages without reading them first. Most of the time they were just drunken text messages that made little to no sense at all, but other times, they almost seemed genuine, like he was sober and in a clear state of mind. It was hard not to reply when he sent me messages that made sense because very deep down, like really deep down, I loved Evan, but I knew better than to fall for his tricks.

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