After Life

19

I felt the air drain from my body as I shrunk back into my seat. The intensity of his stare sent a chill over my body, and yet, it was exactly what I had expected of him.

"Harry," I started, but was quickly interrupted.

"When I agreed to do this for you, I only had one request. One fucking thing I asked of you in return. Don't ask questions, my reasons are my own. You know how uncomfortable this whole thing makes me, and I still did it..."

"Why?" I stopped him quickly.

"What?"

"If you hate it so much, why did you even do it? You don't owe me anything, Harry." I pointed out.

I knew challenging him on yet another level was probably not the best move on my part, considering just how volatile this conversation had the possibility of turning. But I couldn't help myself when he got like this. I couldn't stop myself from calling him out whenever he contradicted himself, or pushed me a certain way.

Yes, he had asked only thing one of me, and that was to leave his secrets alone. He clearly had them, and had more or less admitted as much several times. Of course, anyone would be curious. But in exchange for his participation in this endeavor I swore to my silence. And here I was breaking it, pressing the matter, for the sake of a written assignment.

No. That was a lie. The more logical part of me could justify my questions and intrusive line of conversation with the necessity of knowing his history for the sake of my assignment. I had to write a telling, enticing, and prosaic statement to go along with the moving and emotional images I had produced. But in reality, the real reason I wanted to know, was for myself.

I had spent much so much time thinking of his boy in recent weeks. Beyond his suitability for this assignment, his volatility, his moods, his grace and his charm, I was enthralled by him. There was just something about Harry that drew you to him, even if he did everything in his power to push you away.

Which was what he was trying to do right now, so it would seem.

His teeth ground together harshly to the point that I could almost hear the sound.

"I don't even know," he finally admitted. "I didn't want to do it, but when you were standing in the hall that afternoon crying and upset with your snow soaked pants, I had a moment of weakness, alright?"

I could remember that day clearly in my mind. My frustration and desperation, finally relieved in a wave of gratitude when he agreed to pose for me. It was then that he asked for his one concession. My silence.

"I'm sorry," I whispered quietly. "I'm sorry to pry. I don't mean to."

"And yet you keep doing it," he barked, although his tone was more gentle than before.

I ignored the interruption and continued. "I'm not trying to be insensitive, Harry. Whatever it is that you are keeping, it is yours to keep. I'm not asking for you to spill your whole sorted history. All I said was I had to write a statement on why I chose you. You are the one who assumed I was wanting to know everything."