No Hands

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I woke up to my alarm clock the next morning. I had been in and out of sleep for hours. For whatever reason the light in my room had been too bright, my new tattoo hurt, my forehead held too much tension for me to fall asleep. It was a myriad of things that had kept me up, but it all seemed to tie to me waiting to hear my phone buzz with a text.

I give Harry the benefit of thirty minutes, I shower, brush my teeth, take my pills, rub the ointment on to my tender wrist. It is nearly ten, by the time I am finished. I sit at the foot of my bed braiding my wet hair staring at my phone. Fuck it, I'm calling him.

I dial his number and listen to the dial tone.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Voicemail.

I hang up my phone and bury my face into my pillow. I groan loudly in frustration. I get up and head downstairs to eat something. Louis is at the table staring into a plate of eggs. His eyes are bloodshot, and you can tell he had a long night. Lottie, Fizzy, and the twins are in the living room watching some morning television. I take a sit opposite from Louis, and watch Jay flit around the kitchen like a humming bird.

"Good morning, Blair." Jay smiles.

"Morning," I say. Louis glances up at me before shoving his plate of eggs towards me.

"You're not hungry?"

"I eat. I vomit." He says flatly.

"Long night?"

"Something like that?" He grumbles.

"Were you out with Harry--"

"I can make you something else, Blair." Jay interrupts. "If you want something other than cold eggs."

Louis stands and pushes his chair away from the table with a screech. Jay gives him a look. He ignores it, and pushes the chair back into the table before grabbing his keys and heading out the front door.

"Um," I stare after him. "Can I just have some coffee right now?"

"Course," Jay smiles, ignoring her son's moody exit. She pours me a mug and sets it on the table. "Lottie mentioned you got a tattoo."

"Yeah," I mumble turning my wrist to look at it.

"It looks really good," Jay beams.

"Thanks, it is the North star." I tell her.

"Looks beautiful." Jay says. "Oh! I have some of your clothes in a laundry basket, do you mind taking it up?"

"Not at all," I say, taking a sip of the coffee.

"So you didn't spend the night at Harry's?" She asks, making conversation.

"Correct," I tell her. "He had plans."

"You don't sound too happy about it," she observes.

"It is not that, I have no problem with him going out... it is just," I pause. "I want to know he got home okay."

"I am sure he did," Jay comforts.

"He won't answer his phone," I say. "I don't want to be one of those girlfriends that is clingy and annoying but I want to make sure he is okay." I purse my lips.

"Just because you're worried he's not answering his phone doesn't mean you're clingy," Jay says. "It just means you care. I'm sure Harry is fine. Maybe his phone's just off."

I nod. "Probably."

She looks at me with pity in her eyes. She leans down and hugs me. "I am sure he is fine."

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