The Knight in Leather Armor

ch.36 Sorry

“So where exactly did you run off to this morning?” Danny asked me as he took another spoonful of pasta. He sounded too casual to be serious, and yet that was exactly the tone of voice that freaked me out.

They all watched me carefully.

I played with a lock of my hair nervously.

Zayn eyed me curiously, but I think he was more interested in my hair than anything I had to say.

“Oh. I –um,” I mumbled.

They all leaned slightly closer.  I could feel Danny’s gaze burning into me. I looked up slightly and saw Harry nodding slowly, reassuringly.

“I was at the correctional office,” I replied honestly. Danny choked on his water.

“What?!” he spat.

“The state prison on 17th and-”

“I know where it is. What the hell were you doing there?!” he demanded while he clenched his fist on the table, squeezing the life out of his fork.

Harry searched my eyes carefully. I hadn’t told him about the jail or the man I had seen who seemed to know me.

“Angela!” Danny shouted.

“Danny,” Harry spoke up, trying to calm him down. Danny ignored him.

“I was- I was just doing research for a school project,” I replied quickly, making sure to avoid everyone’s watchful eyes.

“I thought I told you to never to go there!” Danny bellowed, completely ignoring my stupid excuse.

“You never said that,” I mumbled incoherently under my breath.

“Danny, it’s ok, she was with me,” Harry took the blame. Everyone’s heads spun so fast to stare at Harry that I was surprised I didn’t hear any bones crack or veins bulge.

Danny stared at Harry dumbfound for a moment. “You what?” he demanded in a steady voice.

“Well, I wasn’t going to let her go by herself,” Harry lied even more effectively. He looked Danny straight in the eyes and didn’t blink. But I noticed something flinch in his throat and his chest. Man, he was a good liar, just not good enough to fool me. I’ll have to ask him for lessons…

Niall noticed me noticing Harry, which made me feel doubly self-conscious. I took another bite of pasta.

Danny was quiet a moment as he looked from me to Harry. “Thanks, Haz” he sighed as he returned from his mini Hulk transformation.

Danny’s sincerity cut into Harry deeper than any threats he could have made. Harry looked down at his half-eaten plate of pasta, then back up at me.

“I’m sorry this one is so much trouble,” Danny teased and he smiled at Harry, but glared at me.

“Me too, me too” Harry shook his head slowly and a sliver of his dimple showed through.

They all looked at me with a mix of critical scorn and teasing disappointment. I didn’t even know what I had done wrong, but apparently I was always the odd one out- the dead weight that everyone seemed so fixated on.

I got up and took my plate to the kitchen. Harry got up a few moments later, as well. Harry lowered his plate into the sink slowly, then he turned to face me.

I strode to his side. He took my face in his hands and sighed painfully, like he had been betrayed.

“Angela,” he spoke quietly, slightly angrily but mostly disappointedly.

“I was going to tell you, I was,” I started to explain myself. I wanted to tell him everything- everything from Louis to Becky to the man at the prison. Everything. Anything that would make the pained, the hurt rasp deep in his voice- go away. I couldn’t bear to hear him sound so hurt; it felt like my ears were bleeding.

“Danny’s right. You should have never gone in there,” he told me with a careful and steady voice.  

I nodded.

“I know. I’m sorry,” I apologized quietly, even though I knew I had no real excuse.

“They could have hurt you, Angela,” Harry shook his head angrily.

I watched as the grey in his eyes built up like a skyscraper ready to shred through to the blue-black nihility of outer space.

“All those filthy criminals watching you like hungry animals, ready to attack the first and only ray of sunshine, only pure and golden creature for miles…” he spoke tersely and his voice grew louder as a deep rage boiled within him. He looked like he was half a second away from running down to the jail and ripping everyone’s heads off for even looking at me. 

“I’m sorry, Harry. I just needed to go…” I told him quietly.

I rested my hand over his as he continued to hold my face.  Harry gently smoothed his thumb across my cheek and tilted my chin up to face him. He looked into my eyes as if trying to retake everything I had seen at the jail, like it was too much for me; all the dirt and filth and cruelty.

He thought I couldn’t take it: seeing people in jail. And maybe I couldn’t. I definitely don’t think I’ll forget that man’s words or the way he looked at me, but he was no criminal. I could feel it. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and received a punishment that he never deserved. It was always the good guys who got punished.

I looked into Harry’s almost eternally worried eyes.

“But you were there once,” I added quietly.

Harry searched my eyes for a long moment.

“You were in that jail before,” I said.

Harry let his hands drop slowly to his sides. He looked down and I could see he was extremely flustered and embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, Angie,” Harry shook his head and looked at me with a hopeless and broken expression. He stood his distance from me, as if he thought I might not want to be with him because of his past. Like he was a monster.

“Sorry for what?” I asked with slight confusion.

I closed the distance between us and took his hand in both of mine, holding it close to my heart.

“I’m not good Angela. I’m not pure and golden like you” he spoke quietly, like he was confessing something painful.

He tried to lower his hand, like he wasn’t supposed to touch me, like he might contaminate me with whatever he felt was so horrible about him.

“Yes you are, Harry,” I shook my head. What was he talking about? I was far from pure and golden, well in the physical sense, I guess I was, but my mind was broken and torn by images and words I wished I could forget, spoken by people I’ve lost or wish I could lose.

"No, I'm not," he raised his voice in desperation and anger. He grasped the counter with both hands as he steadied his breath.

"Harry, I don't care if you've been in there for all your life. You're different than them. You've got the gold inside you, that's why you  haven't crack like them," I told him honestly. It didn't bother me that he had been in and out of the jail many times. It didn't matter because I knew him. I knew who was, not the black and white crimes he's committed.

He was quiet a moment and I could see the fury building within his armor. His hands shook slightly as he tried to calm himself down. 

"And your dad. Harry. I don't care what happened between you two-" I started, but Harry stared out the window, refusing to look at me.

"NO!" Harry bellowed with such rage that he the glass bottle he was holding onto- broke into a thousand pieces. 

I stared at his beautiful, sturdy hands which were now covered in blood and tiny shards of glass. I grabbed his hand and quickly picked out the pieces of glass, wishing, hoping, praying that it would heal just as fast as it had gotten hurt.

"Ay, what's going on?" Danny asked as he rushed over and saw Harry's hand.