*Reagan’s POV*
Hours passed and I still haven’t gotten a call from H. I know the news isn’t anything that either of us wanted to hear, but I hope he doesn’t lose sight as to why it has to happen this way. I took a deep breath and tossed my phone on the ottoman before lying my head in my mothers lap as we continued watch the movie she had on. The plot surrounded that of an altar boy who killed his priest. He appears to be schizophrenic and unaware of what he’s done when he gets caught, but to keep him from getting the death sentence and gain self publicity, a roofless lawyer takes on his case only to find out that the boy wasn’t sick in the end at all and only commits the grisly murder for revenge from the abuse he suffered at the priests hands. I didn’t like the movie and it hit vaguely close to home for some reason, but my mother seemed to be enjoying the story line as it came to life in front of her.

I sighed and sniffled as my mother stroked my hair. I could feel tears prick at the back of my eyes and I’m not really sure what brought on my emotional state. Perhaps the ‘red dragon’ will be here soon and my switch in moods is my forewarning. When my subconscious mind uses the word forewarn I internally shutter. Dr. Koch has made me want to remove it from my vocabulary completely.

“Hey? Are you okay baby? This movie is supposed to be a thriller, not a tear jerker.”

“I’m fine.” I smiled at my mom not wanting her to get suspicious of my fragile state. There’s really nothing wrong besides the fact that I miss Harry and would like to know how he feels on the two week bomb I dropped.

“That didn’t sound convincing Reagan.” She stops scratching my scalp and looks down at me more intently.

“I’m really fine. My hormones are just kind of everywhere at the moment.” My mothers eyes darken as she looks at me suspiciously and I roll mine in response, already knowing what’s on her mind.

“I’m not pregnant, mom.”

“You’ve been sleeping a lot lately. When you were home before London you were always out with Channel and a lot happier when you were at school.” I sit up on the couch from her lap at her accusatory tone.

“What I’m dealing with in London is completely different than what I did at school here in California. The work I do and what I have to deal with is a lot more draining that you think! Channel and I have hung out, but she’s busy at school! This is my break not hers! I’m just tired, and stressed. Am I not allowed to just relax at home?! I’m not pregnant!” I snapped and wiped a stray escaping tear from my cheek.

My mom looked at me in shock as I fiercely wiped the tear away all the while cursing my traitoris hormonal soul for allowing it to slip. She has no idea what I’m trying to put up with on my own and what really hurts me right now is how I wish to tell her. I want to let it out and let it all be known, but I’ll be damned if anyone or anything else tries to stop me from being by Harry’s side. If that means withholding one more thing from my parents, then so be it. H and I have more than enough on our plate.

“Reagan you need to calm down. If this is just your vacation, then why are you so high strung all the time? You're not yourself and I can tell, so what's going on?"

“What do you want me to do take a pregnancy test mom? I feel crampy and bloated and I’m tired. Please just give me a break, I’ve had enough of this shit!”

“Reagan!”

"Goodnight mom. I'm going to bed. It's late anyway."

I stood from the couch grabbing my blanket and my phone and headed back to my room. I feel guilty for snapping on her, but the ‘are you pregnant’ question and stare is offensive no matter how nicely it’s approached, especially when you’re not. I admit that Harry and I were a bit reckless the last few times that we had sex, but at least he didn’t finish in me. I know the pullout method isn’t foolproof, but I’m pretty sure that it hasn’t failed us so far.

I can see where she got it from however. Besides going out to my secret sessions, I really haven’t been out of the house or out of the room for that matter. I enjoy my time at home, but no matter how comfortable I am I can’t stop thinking about Harry’s upcoming trial and how I can’t be there for it. I can’t stop thinking about Harry. Not that I want to, but it’s hard to focus on myself to try and get better for us when I’m constantly worried about him and what he’s doing. The fact that I haven’t heard from him much at all today doesn’t help the matter.

I lie back on my bed with my phone opening my photos and if a stranger were to find it and look through it, they would probably think that it belonged to the handsome russet haired boy who’s in practically every picture. Off guard pictures, pictures of him smiling, laughing, even pictures of his sexy frown when he’s in a bad mood. I put aside my stubborn ideas of wanting him to call me back first and dial his number one more time hoping to get an answer, but when it goes straight to his voicemail more tears develop from a longing feeling and fall from my eyes. I need to talk to him. I want to hear his voice so badly.

---

*Harry’s POV*
I panicked. It may not have looked like it to anyone else while I was leaving the bar, but I internally panicked and I still am. I’m not sure what came over me when my fingertips traced over her lips... I feel. And that’s what scared me the most and caused my hand to withdraw from her as if I’d been burned. I’m not sure of what it is I feel, but to know that any type of emotion stirred within me for Tamsin has been eating away at me for hours. As if I needed anything else to keep me up at night.

I want to call Reagan and make it all go away or at least hope it does, but since I destroyed my phone last night I couldn’t make a call out even if I wanted to. When I think about it, it could be a good thing. I know Zayn saw Tamsin and I last night and the less I have to answer to, the less anxious I’ll feel. If I keep telling myself that, maybe even I can believe it. Aside from Zayn’s possible calls and texts, there’s always Tamsins. I’m pissed at her! Or at least I am right now. Why the fuck would she say that she loves me? I know how I am with her and she does too. She’s a master fucking manipulator, but when she told me last night she looked so genuine and believable.

I pace the living room for the eighteenth time this morning, trusting that if my feet are moving constantly it will make my thoughts slow down. When my mother comes and and puts her hand on my shoulder, I nearly jump out of my skin.

“What?!" I raise my voice as I begin to feel myself getting ready to blow a fuse, but I quickly collect myself once I realize how I must look to her.

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Yes?”

My mum looked at me up and down warily before she spoke as if I would explode if she were to make anymore types of sudden movements. I almost feel like I could.

“Harry have you been up all night?”

I shake my head no quickly as I run my hands through my hair tugging on it slightly, but I know the bags and dark circles under and around my eyes are a tell all. I glance at the clock and it reads eight thirty am. I’ve been awake since seven yesterday. Twenty five hours is a new high for me. I at least usually get a few hours of sleep in between nightmares, but regardless to how tired my mind and body was, sleep wouldn’t come. I wouldn’t let it. It would have only led to a nightmare or an unwanted thought right before I shut my eyes to get the supposed rest that the body needs to function properly. My body has found a new way to function and I’m sure that a second and third wind has kicked in. I’ll stay up all week if I have to; as long as it take for my mind to slow down.

I give my mum a hug and I know she’s shocked by my behavior but so am I. Pulling away from her quickly, I make my way to the kitchen to pop three aripiprazole instead of two. I make sure that my mum isn’t watching me while I do it. She would freak out if she knew. Anything more than one of the pill at a time is considered an abuse of the drug, but seeing as how my mood swing has surpassed its normal level of jumps within eight hours, I only see it as a way to take control again.

As soon as I begin to feel myself mellow, footsteps are heard coming down the stairs. When I turn my head to see who else could be here this early in the morning, my breathing begins to escalate as my eyes are met with Robin’s.

Notes

Ahhh Late late update because I love you all so much! How are you? Before I start with the notes on this chapter, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE COMMENTS ON LAST CHAPTER! I honestly love feedback like that! And to know that you guys are so invested in it and that I drew emotion makes me so happy! What did you all think of this chapter? Poor Reagan and Harry are Reaching their breaking points. I cant wait to see if I can get a similar response to this chapter as well So please Comment! Comments are just as important as Votes and Subscriptions so please contribute all three if you're enjoying my little story so far! Plus it would make me so happy! We're almost halfway done guys!!! As always, I LOVE YOU ALL FOR READING Xx!
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PS- Next chapter I'll post the pictures that Reagan has in her phone that she speaks about in this chapter :)