Wickedly Ever After | Hevie

Chapter 12: Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

"You're sweating," Mal said as Harry closed the door behind her. She looked around, admiring the loft and its grunge decor. She wished her castle looked this good. It felt like home, like the Isle. As strange it was to see a piece of the Isle in Auradon, her mind was focused on something else.

"I just came back from a jog," he said as he opened the fridge and took out another bottle of water.

"Since when do you jog?" The pixie scoffed.

"Since when do ye care?" He retorted.

Mal stared in disbelief but just laughed off the tension. She took a seat in front of the countertop and made herself comfortable while Harry just eyed her down, desperate for her to get the hell out of his home.

"Listen, we can do this one of two ways. We can have a nice talk or things get ugly and I turn you into a lizard. It's your choice, really," she smiled sarcastically while her eyes glowed green.

Harry backed down and turned down his attitude. Whatever she wanted, it was best for him to just go along with whatever she wanted to say if it meant her leaving sooner.

"Fine," he cocked his head. "Would ye care for some caviar and some refreshing lemonade? Isn't that what ye people eat on yer daily basis?"

"Just on Sundays," she said. She then snickered which caused him to laugh along. "See, we can be friendly."

"I get the feeling she doesn't know ye're here, does she?" He curiously asked. If there was one thing he truly disliked was people meddling in business they shouldn't.

"It doesn't matter," Mal said.

"It will to her," he refuted. "Whatever is going on between me and Evie is none of yer business, dearie. It's between her and me."

"That's true," she agreed. "However, I know the two of you well enough to know that you're both equally as stubborn. You both desperately want to make it work but neither wants to take the first step."

"And ye're here to do what, exactly? Are ye going to put a truth spell on me? Are ye going to brainwash me and make me forget about how she left me to rot on the Isle? Do it. Ye'd be doing the both of us a favor," he said. He drank what was left of the water bottle and chucked it into the recycling bin. "Oh, yes, I recycle now."

"I'm not here to make you do anything, Harry," she said. "I'm here to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," he groaned as his frustration grew. "I don't trust her and I don't know if I ever will."

"You don't mean that," Mal said.

"Yes, I do!" He exclaimed. "My trust in her wasn't broken just because she left the Isle. It was because of how easy it was for her. She just did it. She lied to me. She broke my heart. Months later, she has another guy and she's flourishing while I'm stuck on the Isle, wondering if what she'd said was genuine and she never really loved me. I thought I had gotten over it, I really did. I convinced myself I had forgiven her but deep down, I guess I never did."

"Then why don't you? Why can't you just forgive her? She's changed, Harry. You know that back then, we all did unspeakable things to survive. That's just how things were. Wouldn't you want her forgiveness if you had done the same to her?"

"I would've never done to her what she did to me," he growled as he slammed his hands on the marble countertop, the sound echoing throughout the loft.

An eerie silence followed as Mal bowed her head and Harry took deep breaths. She understood his anger. The only way to get him to express himself was to rile him up and that's what she was doing. She wasn't scared of him because he'd never hurt her. She wouldn't allow him to.