Unexpected Visitors

                                    

                                          
Primrose's POV: 
                          
That next morning, I woke up at the same time Angel did - but I pretended to be asleep so he wouldn't shout at me. As soon as he went downstairs, I snatched the letter from my bedside table and quickly paced to the phone. I'd never been so certain about something in my entire life. I had to talk to Harry. 
                          
Dialling the numbers, I pulled the phone to my ear and listened to it ring.
                          
*ring ring*
                          
No answer.
                          
*ring ring*
                          
Still no answer. 
                          
'The person you are calling, is unable to take your call. Please record a voicemail after the beep. BEEP.*
                          
"Uhh... Hi. Um, hi Harry. Sorry, I didn't expect this to go to voicemail. I'm not surprised it did to be honest, I told you to forget about me. But, if you're listening to this, I'm sorry I got so angry. Please call me back so we can tal-,"
                          
The call ended, taking my last hopes of hearing back from Harry with it. I hope he calls back, I really do. 
                          
Placing the phone down, I took a deep breath, and lay the letter down on my mantle. I didn't feel the urge to cry this time, I just felt empty. There was a void that needed to be filled, and could only be filled by his voice. 
                          
***
                          
It's been a couple of days since I left Harry that voice message. Despite still not hearing back from him, I'm feeling a lot better. Angels made sure to check in on me, and he's been doing little things to make me extra happy. I never told him I called Harry, he would've had a stroke. Business has been really good lately: busy enough to keep myself occupied but not unbearably busy. Harry hasn't wrote me again, or tried to call me since I hung up on him. I know I told him to forget about me, and I'm sure he has, especially given how busy he must be. 
                          
Part of me regrets looking up who Harry was online, because I saw a side to him I didn't get to experience. Sure, I got to do karaoke with him. But I never got to see his goofy side like in the interviews, and I never got to hear him tell me anything about himself. However, part of me is happy I did. I don't know why - I found nothing bad to use to hate him - but I'm glad I learnt more about him. I think it puts my mind at ease knowing slightly more about him, because I actually lost a person. Before then, he was literally a man I met in a bar, and I don't remember a lot of that night because I was so drunk. 
                          
I'd taken the morning off work today: I woke up early and took a long walk down the beach. It was nice to have some time to myself, to really clear my mind. After that, I walked up the road and got an ice cream. That's one of the things I love about Woolacombe - everything is so cozy and close together. 
                          
Walking back into the restaurant, I chucked my ice cream pot in the bin, and proceeded to put on my apron. 
                          
"Hey girlie! Where've you been?" Angel asks, while bringing a tray of dirty glasses up to the bar. I helped him throw away the remains of the drinks as I explained where I went. "Took some time to myself today - went for a beach walk. Got ice cream. Self love and all that." 
                          
"You go girl!" Angel cheers, before turning and entering the kitchen. My eyes widen as I recognise the shirt he's wearing. Is that Harrys? I know I told him to do what he wants with it, but I didn't mean wear it! Chasing him into the kitchen, I grab him by the shoulder to get his attention. 
                          
"Umm, what are you wearing?" I ask, looking him up and down.
                          
Angel looks down at his shirt, with an expression telling me he forgot it was Harrys. "Child, I am so sorry. I totally forgot. I've been staying with you the last few days, and I've used all my 'emergency clothes' I keep in your wardrobe. This was the only clean thing. It was either this, or I squeeze into one of your blouses!" He explains, laughing at the remark to my blouse.