History Repeats Itself - A Prince Harry Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty-One

It was raining, icy sheets of frozen sleet that hammered to the ground and streamed down the windows like waterfalls. Emmy shivered slightly as she glanced out at the dismal winter weather, hugging herself through her thick woolly jumper. The weather was worse in London than in Norfolk or the New Forest, mainly because rain fell heavily and consistently. It hadn't stopped since they'd returned, and the news report showed no sign of it passing yet. Threats of floods and landslides in the South, the Thames Barrier could be put up – Emmy hated winter.

"It's so cold," she murmured, trying to stop her teeth from chattering.

"It's because we're in the corridors," Harry explained, striding calmly alongside her, seemingly unfazed by the freezing temperatures. "There'll be heating in Ed's office, don't worry."

She didn't answer. She wasn't particularly looking forward to the next hour or so. It was the fifth of January, and so far the new year had been pleasantly normal. Both Harry and Emmy had spent considerable amounts of time apart, with their own friends, and Emmy had spent a night back at her old apartment so she could catch up with Chris and Taylor. But now it was back to work, back to what their lives had now become. A meeting with Edward was on the cards – a meeting about the wedding.

It would be futile to say that Emmy wasn't nervous, because she was. Dreadfully. Any mention of the wedding had that effect on her, to the point that she forced herself not to think about it. Being forced to think about it scary.

"You okay?" Harry asked, finally breaking the tense silence between them.

"Me?" Emmy started out of her thoughts and managed a smile. "Fine."

He raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "You're not normally this quiet."

"What? Am I normally a chatterbox?" Now she arched an eyebrow, amused at the thought. "You normally talk more."

"I have a headache."

"You're just hungover," she pointed out.

"Not as hungover as you were," he said, grinning.

She huffed. "Let's not mention that."

"Oh, let's?" he teased. "Let's talk all about how drunk you were when you tried to kiss me."

"I didn't try to kiss you," she said. "I asked you if you'd like to kiss me. There's a difference, okay?"

"So much difference," he mocked, then chuckled as she pushed him away playfully. "Someone's in a bad mood."

"I'm fine," she said lamely.

"No you're not," he said. "Emmy, I've known you for...what? Four months now? And in that time we've spent a lot of time together-"

"Too much," she added.

He rolled his eyes. "I know you pretty well now. And I know you're nervous."

"Okay then," she said, her voice lighter, amused. "If I'm nervous, what am I nervous about? Since you know me so well."

"The meeting?" He shrugged. "What else is there to be nervous about?"

She looked away, uncomfortable. "I'm not completely nervous about the meeting. It's...the wedding."

"That's months away, don't worry about that yet-"

"Yes, but-" Emmy swallowed. "We're going to start talking about it today. That makes it...so much more real."

He sighed, reaching for her hand without even thinking about it and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry about today. We're just going to go over the date and some of the basics. Nothing scary."