AFFLICTION.

Chapter 5

I turned towards a familiar pair of eyes, gleaming with excitement. 

It was Harry.

 The soldier who'd I'd met and treated only earlier that day. He was confidently leaning against the bar. His cheeks were deeply flushed red and his dark curls which had sat in an unruly mess on top of his head early on had now been combed to one side. His bruises and cuts were still obvious under the dim light of the club, but the swelling in his face had eased considerably.

"Harry!" I spoke with surprise.

"Nurse Beauchamp." His lips spread into a large grin, revealing his teeth and the dimples which marked either side of his cheeks. I took another swig at my martini, finishing it altogether.

"Now if all the nurses drink themselves away, who'll be there to tend to us." Harry joked.

"I'm sure you'll manage." I spoke with frustration, only annoyed at the incident which had occurred earlier with Angus.

He only laughed and shook his head, taking a swig of his own drink. I felt guilty and smiled at him apologetically.

"How's your face? All the cuts and bruises?" I asked, eyeing his injuries.

"Better, thanks to you." He eyed me suspiciously. I nodded and tapped my fingers against the bar awkwardly, feeling slightly uncomfortable as his eyes bore into mine.

"I was watching you before, over there." He pointed to the dance floor. "You're quite the dancer." He complimented.

I felt a blush creep up my neck and spread to my cheeks. Although slightly embarrassed, I couldn't help the silly grin that spread across my face. "Do you..." I nodded to the dance floor. "Dance?" I asked and Harry chuckled, before he shut his eyes and furrowed his brows. "Only the jitterbug." He joked. 

 I hadn't noticed his thick accent before but guessed he was from Manchester. Harry's joking had only lightened the mood and I now felt a sudden urge to dance again.

"Show me." I grinned, holding out my hand.

He cocked his brow and shook his head. "I'm afraid I'll only embarrass you." He stated.

I sighed grabbing the hand which dangled beside him, "Well, I'm not taking no for an answer." His touch was warm and gentle, his large hand completely encompassing my own.

I hadn't noticed Harry's height until he stood up against me. In heels, I stood a tall 5'10 but Harry towered over me, his large form trailing behind as I dragged him to the dance floor. I began snapping my fingers and swinging my hips to the beat of the music. I watched in amusement as Harry awkwardly clapped his hands together and stomped his feet. "Impressive.." I teased pointing to his obviously bad moves. He chuckled and stopped altogether, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "Just relax." I took both of his hands into my own and began to move them back and forth. "You're too tense." I grinned. He inhaled sharply at my touch but soon began to relax. We swung to the beat of the music, laughing and giggling, enjoying one another's company.

His tall form, although not thin but not muscular either, bopped to the rhythm of the saxophone. I couldn't help but smile at his foolish and childlike grin. He looked about my age, or older even, but when his lips spread into a wide grin, revealing his teeth and dimples, he looked much younger. It was such a pure and rare smile, one you would only find on the happiest of children.

Not long after, Harry and I grew weary and decided to retire to the bar, for yet another drink. He signaled the bartender, ordering us both a whiskey. I flinched as the dark liquor traveled down my throat, not yet accustomed to the taste as Harry seemed to be. "Do they have jazz clubs down in Manchester?" I asked, but Harry looked at me in confusion, "Your accent, it's obviously Manchester." I grinned and his eyes brightened. "Ohh, right." He caught on. "Nah." He shook his head, "Well none that I know of anyway, dancin' ain't really my forte." I chuckled, recalling his uncoordinated moves.

"Well then, what is your forte?" I asked with a cocked brow.

"It's---" Just as Harry began to speak, a large pair of hands clamped down on his shoulder, slightly startling him.