XLVI. Dematerialize

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dematerialize (verb):  become free of physical substance; cease to have material character or qualities

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Noelle's POV

Somewhere between three trips to the café counter and four rounds of tossing ripped up napkin shreds at strangers, I find myself oddly comfortable with the kinda-there relationship that Klara and I have formed. It isn't like me to drop my guard so quickly, but I am tired of fighting it and with Harry out and about in God knows where, I need all the support I can manage to obtain.

Granted, the man that she took aim at who looked like Big Mike from The Blind Side wasn't too happy with our makeshift game, and when he confronted us I almost lost my shit when Klara proceeded to blame it all on me. It was at least a two sided effort, but he wasn't one for humor or making things right. His big arms gripped the booth before he groaned in annoyance and plopped back down in his seat - this time one all the way at the far end of the café, away from anywhere near us.

"Where do you think Harry has gone to, anyway?" Klara slurps on her beverage, still comfortable in her stance with both elbows on the glossy tabletop and supporting her chin. "You know him best, overall."

"Who knows?" I huff, beyond worried. I don't think I have actually gone this long without being in contact with him. Ever since he brought me home with him, we have been conjoined at the hip. Life without him feels so dull and boring.

"But I hope he comes home soon." I add, counting sugar specks on the table.

"Home.." Klara agrees but once there is an awkward silence between us, I look up and realize she seems to be in astonishment and not actually agreeing with me. "That's it, what if he went home?" Her shoulders stiffen. "As in England."

"He wouldn't." I disagree, almost laughing at the idea.

"But that is the thing, he would. Harry has always been sporadic."

"What does he have to go back to there? This is his home," my defensiveness is clear in my tone. I don't want to even let her suggestion in my head because I know it does make sense. "I mean, why would he? He left there for a reason."

I decide to play it safe and be as vague as possible while conversing about Harry's life in England. I am not sure how much Klara knows about his teenage years and I don't want to tattle the information I have been told through his trust in me. There will always be something that connects us like an attracting magnet, and that's our ability to keep each other's secrets.

"And he also left here for a reason," Klara encounters. "It's possible. Just think; we haven't seen him all morning and Harry never just doesn't show up for work. He is in charge of this department, he could just leave if he wanted. So maybe, just maybe, he jumped on the first flight outta here."

Would he really leave, though? My mind finds the concept hard to swallow. Harry has always had a problem with going off whimsy decisions, but flying across the whole entire country? That's absolutely insane, but then again, when has Harry ever not been more extreme than necessary? He did attack an Internal Affairs agent once, after all.  

A heavy weight has crushed itself onto my chest. Throughout all that we have been through in the last few months, my betrayal was the one thing to completely set him off. I hope he is okay, wherever he may be. If Des is hurtful to him, I don't know if Harry is in the right state of mind to hold himself back.

"Hey, don't feel bad about it," Klara notices my sudden disappointment. This was something I wasn't expecting to deal with and the surprise of it all has more of an effect on me than I thought. "When was the last time you tried contacting him?"

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