Yellow || hs au

|24|

"No, it's fine. What's going on, you sound different." I quickly speak over the phone, my hand gripping the steering wheel tightly as I try to focus on the road. "Harry?" I question.

"I fucked up so bad." He mumbles into the phone, sniffling on the other end like he'd been crying. "I don't know what happened— I— I'm by myself and I don't know what to do."

"What happened? Why did you fuck up?" I ask, my heart beginning race in my chest as I chew on my bottom lip, holding my phone against my ear in an urgent way for him to go on. "Harry talk to me."

"I don't k-know." He speaks with a raspy and slow tone. "Where are you at?" He questions, my eyes scanning the road as I try to calm my own self down for his sake. "I c-called you and you didn't p-pick up." He breathes, my heart sinking. He must have called when I was painting. My phone was off.

"I'm on my way home." I tell him, wetting my lips as I change lanes. "I won't be in New York for another hour, can you call Zayn?" I ask.

"No— no I need you, Clover. I'm freaking the fuck out, I don't— please—" His words are desperate and send my heart down to my toes as I sigh out a shaky breath.

"Okay, I'll try to be there as soon as I can." I tell him. "Can you tell me what happened?" I ask, my body relaxing slightly. The last thing he needs is me being just as scared as he is. I've never heard him sound like this. "Harry?"

"I'm so fucked, Clo. Please just come here when you can." He speaks into my phone. I nod, even though I know he can't see me.

"I will, just stay at your apartment until I get there, okay?" I tell him, my fingers nervously tapping the wheel when he doesn't answer right away.

"Okay."

  My body is tense for the rest of the drive, my eyes constantly looking for the city I love. I'm worried. I'm worried about Harry and I don't know how to feel about it. Is it bad that I'm worried about him after the way he's treated me? He's just snappy and grumpy, I highly doubt he does it to me on purpose.

  Regardless, my stomach churns with overwhelming nerves as I swallow hard, only having half an hour left until I should be pulling up to his apartment building.

—

  I practically sprinted from my car, through the parking garage and into the elevator until I made it to Harrys floor. And now I'm shoving it open.

  When I step inside, my body freezes. Glass crunches under my shoes from god knows what, there's multiple holes in the walls and the chairs of his island are tipped over. Pillows are thrown around the room and the coffee table is flipped upside down. But Harry is nowhere to be seen.

  "Harry?" I call out through his silent apartment, my heart thudding harshly against my chest as I close the door behind me, my eyes scanning the living room as I make my way to his bedroom. "It's me." I call out again, his bedroom just as badly trashed as the living room.

  The bedside lamp is in pieces on the floor, above it on the wall looks like what it had been thrown at. The bed sheets and duvet are crumpled on the floor and I notice his brown covered leather journal is open but all the pages are ripped and even the cover.