Flight risk. [h.s]

003.

i promise listening to fine line when arlie does will change everything

★

"Hi, Arls,"

I thought that I had forgotten the charismatic sound of his voice as he effortlessly drones out the shortened version of my name but the second that Harry closes his lips after saying my name, a million and one memories flood back to my heart like a charge of adrenaline.

Sharply inhaling, I physically recoil from the sight and sound of him.

Staring straight ahead, it is like my life is flashing before my eyes as memories shared between Harry and I start to screen on the inside of my eyelids.

In a plain black T-shirt and a pair of darker green workout shorts, I find myself unable to keep up with where to look. His tanned skin is now considerably more inked than when I last saw him, new pictures forever immortalised on his skin.

A sinking sensation dawns on me when I realise that I once knew every single one of his tattoos and the little stories and meanings behind them. Now, I couldn't tell you why he has Spanish and French.

Pausing, Harry smiles tightly. The weakness in his expression shows that he feels the tension just as much as I am.

His green eyes carefully grace down the length of my body, only to land on the waistband of my jeans before his jaw tightens and he exhales heavily.

Flicking my eyes down, I realise that I haven't adjusted myself after Jonathan got a little handsy. The black lace of my thong pokes out from the top of the low-waisted jeans like some sort of horny peep show.

Swallowing, Harry manages to look away and down to the floor as I muster up the courage to reply to him and not feel sick to my stomach at the sight of his face.

"...Hi," I reply, my voice dripping in sarcasm although I wasn't planning for that.

Looking up, his face softens with mercy as his shoulders sink in relief and the built-up stress dissipates quickly.

"It's been a while," He tells me as if I didn't know how long it has been.

"Nearly four years," I snap sharply, crossing my arms over my chest. "Figured it would be longer before I had to see you again,"

Sighing, Harry quickly places the two trays of take-out coffee cups down on the table between us before tossing his car keys down alongside them.

"I-" Scratching at the back of his head, he almost pleads with me silently while furrowing his brows. "I'm sorry, Arlie–"

I nod, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. It is a protective stance because as I back my way into Jonathan's body, he turns away with a warm smile and dives forward to shake Harry's hand.