london boy | wroetoshaw

thirty eight

"Your sister should be checked into a mental hospital or some shit, mate." Callum Airey said casually into the phone when Harry had walked into the living room on Monday morning. Cal was in the kitchen, standing over a frying pan as he tried to make himself breakfast, something he was also failing miserably at.

Harry mumbled a small good morning to his flatmate as he reached inside the cabinet to look for some tea to make so he could start off his morning with a warm drink in hand.

"Morning, Boggo," Cal nodded at Harry, before turning back to look down at the stovetop and returning to his phone call.

"I don't know, you tell me! I just woke up with a text from her saying something came up and she was going to Scotland early. No explanation, no nothing! I thought she was taking the piss!" Cal exclaimed to the person on the other end of the line, clearly annoyed at something.

After filling a pot with water, Harry squeezed in beside Cal to place it on the stove so it could boil. Cal moved aside to make room, before Harry walked back towards the fridge to grab some milk.

"George, I don't know what to tell you. Your sister has absolutely lost the plot, mate. I'm proper fuming, mate." Cal muttered into the phone, flipping over his eggs to fry.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. George? That name sounded so familiar to him, he just couldn't figure out who it was. He figured it was one of Cal's friends, but Harry was trying to think if they had met before or not.

"Well when you see her tell her I'm having a go at her once I get there on Friday. This is literally the second time she's done this to me, I'm convinced Mia's out here taking the fucking piss." Cal complained, transferring his food over onto his plate as Harry froze.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed together as he processed what Cal was saying. It was starting to make sense, the George that Cal was speaking to was Mia's older brother. As his mind ran a mile a minute, in absolute circles, Cal had ended the call and hung up the phone.

"You alright, Bog? You don't look too good." Cal asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he saw Harry frozen in the corner of the kitchen.

"Mia's uh...She..." Harry stuttered out, his voice breaking slightly as he was unable to form words, "She left?"

Cal let out a loud sigh, slamming his fork down against the counter before ranting, "Mate, I'm absolutely fuming! We bought our plane tickets for the holiday's weeks ago, we agreed we'd go together! And then I wake up to a text at 7 AM saying she's at the airport because something came up!"

"D-d-do you know, what, uhm, came up?" Harry asked quietly, still taking it all in.

"I'm convinced it's nothing, if it was important or something to do with the family I would know about it. I mean for goodness sake, her own family doesn't know she's coming back early. What could even be so important."

Harry was quiet, looking down at the tea he had just made, unable to bring himself to drink it. She had left because of him, he knew it. Because of what happened the night before, she had ran away. What he didn't know, however, was whether or not she ran away from him or if she ran away to Matt.

Matt. The thought of her with him made him sick. It physically hurt, just the thought of her with him. The thought of her kissing Matt, like she had kissed him. The thought of Matt's hands in her hair, the same way his own were just the night before. Harry wanted Mia all to himself, and after last night, there was no way he could even imagine anyone else.

Last night. Everything had simultaneously happen so fast while time had somehow moved so slow. He couldn't even have begun to describe, he didn't even know where to start.