After Life

23

Maybe that was all it was? An emotional state between two people. A moment of weakness causing a romantic thought, charged by the vulnerable state of both in a certain situation. Sometimes when upset, people needed an outlet. They needed to feel connected or close to someone or something. They needed to feel something, anything, to remind them they were alive.  Maybe that was all that moment was?

Crossing my arms over myself in some twisted form of self preservation, I tried to consider what would have happened if Mia hadn't walked in when she did. Would Harry have kissed me? Would I have kissed him? What would have happened, if we crossed that line between rocky friendship and....more? Would he back away afterwards? Running and locking himself away like he always seemed to do? Or maybe I would have been the one to run, never being sure or confident when it came to boys or relationships. I had little experience in that realm, preferring to stay in the world of fantasy and creative license where anything is possible and hearts don't get broken, rather than in the harsh world of reality and emotional torment.

Even though I had no doubt that if he had kissed me, I wouldn't have stopped him, I was glad that I didn't have to actually consider any of the questions running through my head with any form of actuality. Because instead, I had a completely different series of questions that I had to face when it came to Harry.

What had he been thinking in those few tense, weighted moments? Was he seriously considering kissing me? Or was I imagining the look on his face and the change in the tension between us? What was he thinking now, in the aftermath, now that the emotions have cleared and the moment passed? Was he as mind fucked as I was, sitting in his apartment, wondering any of the same things about me that I was wondering about him? Was he really going to honor his promise, and finish this project with me? How awkward was our next meeting going to be?

I groaned loudly, rubbing my wet hands over my face. I couldn't decide which series of questions were worse, the fantasy or the reality? The ones where he did kiss me, or the ones where he didn't. All of them sucked, and all of them had the potential to make any future encounters with each other incredibly awkward. And since we were only just now getting to a place where our exchanges weren't completely laced with tension, to be thrown back into a pattern of walking on egg shells around each other was mot something I welcomed back with open arms.

There were only a few things I actually knew. First and foremost, I had a project statement to finish. I already had the prelim images I wanted to submit to professor Murray ready, completely edited and prepared. But to go along with them, I needed to get the rest of my statement finished, and it needed to be today. It was due in class on Thursday, and I had put it off long enough. I had hoped to garner some insight into Harrys past with todays little meeting, especially after he agreed to help me with the written portion of the assignment. But in a way, he only made it harder for me to write. Yes, he had gotten me off to a good start, and I had no doubt I would finish it with the help of Mia taking Harrys place at the laptop, typing my thoughts as I concentrated on nothing but my most honest feelings. But at the end of the day, I felt I knew him even less than before.

Before, I had my own theories and speculation. Now, I knew he was broken. He all but admitted it, in a moment of honesty and vulnerability that he rarely exposed. Now, when it came time to write down on paper how he made me feel, how he was so perfectly suited for this project, I felt like I was striping him bare. I felt like I was showcasing his pain, and where I knew before that was the case, now, I actually felt it. I still knew nothing of what he hid from me and the rest of the world, but I knew it hurt him in a way that forced him to lock it away in a corner of his mind. And I knew that no matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't relent on torturing him.

I had no choice but to finish the assignment, and no choice but to continue with Harry as my muse. But now, I felt guilty and ashamed of how I was about to display him to the world. I thought back to the images I had taken so far, of his quiet simplicity, the way he seemed apart from the rest of the world as it swirled around him. They were powerful and intriguing, but now, I felt they were also heartbreaking. Because now, I knew a little bit of the pain behind those green eyes.

A gentle knock at the door of the bathroom broke me from my self imposed exile.

"Lane?" Mia's voice called out.

"Yeah?"

"You drown in there?"

I couldn't help the snort that escaped me. "No."

"Just wanted to see what you wanted for dinner?"

I sighed, tapping my fingers on the top of the water, watching as the tiny splashes they made ripped on the surface.

"Doesn't matter."

"Cats guts and quinkins?"

I groaned loudly, leaning my head against the towel behind me. "For Christ sake, Mia."

I heard her giggle at her own inside joke. Her grandfather would always respond with 'cats guts and quinkins' when asked what he wanted for dinner. An old Scottish tendency, she explained to me. Unfortunately this tendency seemed to rub off on her, and she would always respond the same when I was being difficult in terms of my meal preferences.

"Fine, fine," she muttered, sensing my lack of humor in my current state. "I will just make pasta or something."

"Okay."

"You coming out soon?"

"Maybe."

"Should I just slide some bread and water under the door?"

I actually snickered at that one. "Kindly fuck off, Mia."

"Fine, fine." I heard her giggle as she retreated away and into the kitchen.

I pushed myself up reluctantly to sit up in the bath. Pulling my knees towards my chest, I leaned my folded arms across them, resting my chin over my arms. The few strands of my blonde hair that never seemed to stay up in a knot on my head stuck to my neck in a mixture of dampness from the water and sweat from the heat. I looked around the bath to see that almost no bubbles were left.

I couldn't hide in here forever. And I couldn't let this day with Harry change the small bit of progress we had made. Because regardless of this project, and regardless of the things he kept from me, I actually liked being around him. And at the end of this, I hoped to remain friends. But to do so, I couldn't let this one emotional day throw us off course. I knew he was going to pull away. It was what he did. So in knowing that, I had to adjust my own reaction to counter his. I had to act like it was no big deal. I had to thank him for helping me, and never make mention of his secrets again. I had to show him that today had no effect on me, even if it had effected the shit out of me.

It was a simple plan that probably would get thrown off course the moment we saw each other again. But right now, it was all I had.