Interlude [h.s]

fifty-six

"Open it now!" The banging is now erratic, as if they're starting to grow tired, but it keeps insisting and digging into her skull. "Alouette!"

With a fast intake of breath, she suddenly remembers the door she locked inside the apartment before going into the bathroom.

Harry.

She runs towards the spare bedroom and fumbles with the keys in her pockets. Harry's banging gets louder, as if he can sense her being near. He keeps calling out to her, at times mixing threats with his orders, but they don't sound threatening at all. He sounds exhausted, his voice is a little rough, and she wonders how long he's been at the door. She finally finds the key, but it falls to the floor.

"Open the door!" Harry shouts when he hears the cling. He's out of breath now, and long pauses mix in with the shouts, but somehow it makes her worry more.

"I'm right here," she says, loud enough to be heard from the other side, but it's like he doesn't hear her at all.

"Open the door right now!" He suddenly hits the door louder and faster. "Alouette! Please."

The bangs subside and an eerie silence falls. She picks up the key and shoves it in the lock. She turns it and the door is unlocked. With a single push, she's in the room.

Harry is standing some feet away from her. He's breathing fast and his pupils are wide. For the first time in her life, she sees a look of pure panic on his face, one that doesn't shy away after a moment. It stays, as if he doesn't care she's seeing how affected he is—or, more likely, he cannot control it. His fear has completely slipped from his grasp, and it shocks her into silence. Even when she held him at gunpoint for the first time he wasn't scared. Now, though, he's terrified, and it scares her too.

He slumps against the wall, lowering his head to escape his gaze. His dark curls hide his eyes from her. He slowly collapses against it, sliding to the floor in a way that resembles more a sudden lack of energy than an intentional action.

"Harry..." Alouette whispers, extending an arm towards him tentatively.

He jerks away and folds his knees against his chest to escape her touch. "Do not touch me," he spits out.

She immediately stills. She has never seen him like this and doesn't know what to do. She doesn't even know what happened that had him so shaken up.

Harry is still refusing to meet her eyes. His arms are around his knees, his knuckles are white. His breath is still a little rushed. There's a stormy cloud on his face, one Alouette doesn't know now to dissipate. She wants to turn his head towards her so that maybe she'll be able to read the truth in his eyes but doesn't move, because Harry told her not to touch him. He's never made such a request before.

"Do you want me to stay?" she whispers instead. Her voice is low, so low that for a second she fears it'll be drowned by the sound of their breaths.

Still, Harry doesn't look at her. "No," he only says.

Alouette doesn't want to leave him alone like this. He's more than just unsettled, and it doesn't feel right to do so. But she asked, and now she doesn't have a choice. She hesitantly stands up. "Let me know if you need anything," she murmurs, and then she walks to the door.

Only then he speaks again. "Leave the door open."

She pauses for a moment and looks at him worriedly. She wants to ask, but she knows she is in no position to be confided in. Maybe back at the Palace she could've, but now she doesn't have the right to do so anymore.

She opens the door so that it's as wide as possible. "Like this?"

Harry doesn't reply but also doesn't complain, so she steps out in the corridor again. She leans against the wall, and maybe they're back-to-back now.