Laurel woke up and was honestly completely confused as to her location. It took her several minutes to orient herself. She looked around her and recognized the jacket thrown across the Back of the nondescript couch she had been passed out on. It was Willy's, she must be at his place. That was one mystery down.

Question two, where were her clothes, she was wearing joggers two sizes too big and the t shirt drowned her. She plucked the shirt away from her skin, the Who, that didn't help. Laurel looked around her and realized that her purse was also no where to be found, but that there was a bottle of electrolyte water and paracetamol. So she wasn't alone. She sat up quickly and slapped a hand to her mouth to keep down the bile.

"What the fuck happened last night," she said aloud while reaching for the bottle on the coffee table. Complete with coffee table books. Harry had that one too.

"Fuck!" She exclaimed under her breath when her brazen come on and eventual flight crawled back to mind. Laurel thought about the furrowed brow and tight lips she had left on his face and felt sorry. Not that she left, a little that she turned up, and a lot that she'd made him feel so sad.

That explained the clothes. Laurel realized she must have left them at Harry's house when he insisted she take his. She wasn't sure what she was wearing yesterday, but she hoped it wasn't something she loved.

The water tasted cool and a damn sight better than her own breath as she swallowed it before trying to stand again. The bathroom was down the hall if she recalled from the one brief time they had stopped by on a date to grab his jacket when the London weather had changed on them. Laurel shuffled her way down the hallway and was happy to find the bathroom. Her knee was smarting and she meant to investigate why.

Laurel shucked her borrowed sweat pants to the floor and sat down to empty her bladder. The fleece from the sweatpants stuck a little to the crusty blood on her knee on the way down. She checked the abrasion and sighed. Her trip round the the pub she had escaped into to avoid detection when she heard Harry call for her had left her a souvenir. Her behavior last night was worrisome, but she couldn't be bothered to care. Yesterday was one of the hardest of her life, and the next few months were not likely to be one bit better.

She spent several bleary minutes searching for her purse and shoes. Neither were anywhere to be found. So, while drowning her sorrows she had lost her purse, her clothes, her shoes, and clearly her dignity.

After making a small, hungover effort to pull herself together, Laurel exited the bathroom and walked towards the closed door down the hall. She blew out a big unsteady breath and knocked.

"Come in," she heard over the low music playing. Willy's room was bathed in soft light, he had thrown a scarf over the lamp and it gave an effect resembling moonlight.

"Morning," Laurel ventured and moved to the foot of the bed. Willy nodded at her gesture and she sat.

"Coucou, 'ow do you feel this morning. I notice you did not include good," he nudged her knee with his bare foot.

"Ive felt better," she braved a smile.

"I imagine that would be true even if you were not feeling so badly. You were very sad last night," he left the words hanging.

"Um..." Laurel stalled, "can you tell me what happened last night? I don't remember how I got here and I can't find my purse or shoes."

Willy lifted his eyebrows at her but continued, "you called me from outside, you said something about a tree and that you had been sick inside a taxi," he enunciated the I sharply, "the driver put you out. I convinced you to put in my address for an uber and I spoke to the driver to get you here. When you got here, you were in this," he pulled her oversized shirt away from her body. "You had no shoes, but I put your purse on a hook by the door. That is not lost. What happened before you got here?"

The day before replayed in her head and Laurel sucked in a harsh breath and looked at the ceiling before she began speaking, "um, did I talk about it last night?"

"Oui, but it was nonsense. You said a something  about a test and Harry and procedures...."
He once again left a long pause to see if she would fill the silence.

Laurel bit her lip and let the tears fall finally, "how could this happen, this was not supposed to happen," she sobbed, "what am I going to do? I have no idea how to take care of anybody else! I can barely take care of myself. I'm such a mess. She collapsed on the bed and Willy pulled her across the mattress to him. He wrapped her in his lanky wrong arms and whispered to her "all will be well" over and over until she had cried herself to sleep.

When she woke up this time her eyes were puffy, but she was no longer queasy. Laurel also realized she was ravenous and something smelled delicious. Her body creaked as she stood and she felt like she'd aged 20 years in the last few days. The window was dark as she walked passed it to the kitchen.

"What smells so good?" Laurel asked.

"Ahh, an easy cassoulet, to make you well, and as an offering of peace."

"What? Are we fighting, is that a thing that happened last night too?" Laurel tried to remember if they had argued, but she only could recall having a falling out with one lover.

"Non, but I think I did something bad. You were very sad last night. I think not only about Harry but you said his name, over and over. You called me 'arry when I put you to sleep," he pulled his long hair back into a low bun and avoided her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Laurel bit her lip and looked at the ceiling, but this time her emotional exhaustion overcame her and the tears pressed out. 

"No, I think you maybe love Harry, before me," he gave her an appraising look, to which she nodded. "I thought this was true. Did he make you so sad yesterday?"

"No, something else, Harry's just, a smaller problem among a sea of them," Laurel wiped at her eyes.

Willy put the food in front of her, "eat my apology please. Then tell me your bigger problems. While you eat I tell you why I am sorry?"

Laurel nodded and dug into the tasty bean dish presented her.

"I make apology because I send 'arry away. He called me looking for you and I lied, because I think he may have hurt you and I was jealous. But now I think maybe I have no reason, no right, to be jealous. You love him, you should go to him," Willy summed up.

Laurel laughed nervously, "no, Willy, I can't go to Harry now."

"But we," he motioned between the two of them, " I think we are better as friends, no?"

Laurel cocked her head to the side, why did she meet him at the wrong time, he was lovely. But not beloved, at least by her. "Yes, we are best as friends."

"Ah, so, friend, why did you get so lost last night that you lost your clothes, your shoes, and your head?"

And so, she told him.

Willy rocked her against him when she'd finished and repeated again and again, "all will be well."