After Life

32

I shielded my eyes from the bright sun with the use of my sunglasses, my arms crossed over my chest partly to keep the cool wind at bay, and partly to keep my camera from swinging at my side. My gaze remained forward, my pace casual and without mission, as I tried my best to seem indifferent and slightly aloof.  Or at least that was what I was trying to do. In reality, I was acutely aware of the person next to me, seemingly trying to appear just as indifferent and aloof as I was.

After several more moments of bickering in my apartment, Harry finally stood abruptly, hauling me to my feet. The blanket I had wrapped around myself fell to the floor, and I glowered at him in annoyance.

"Go, get dressed," he said sternly, pointing in the direction of my room. "We're shooting today,"

My hands found my hips, my eyes narrowing at him.

"You are so damn pushy!"

"And you are so fucking stubborn!" he shouted back, his tone laced with humor. Despite my sour mood, he seemed determined to keep his own in check. The more annoyed I got with him, the more teasing he became. Usually, if I got irritated with him, he would just deal it right back at me. But it was apparent that he realized his misstep earlier in the week, and was making a concerted effort to keep his own mood swings in check.

"Now go get dressed, or I will drag you out in your little sleep stuff," he threatened, pointing to my room again. 

Shooting him daggers without them really being heartfelt, I trudged off to my room, slamming the door behind me.  Pulling on jeans and a sweater, I threw my camera gear into my bag, while quickly trying to formulate a plan for our suddenly reaffirmed shoot.  I sat on the edge of my bed, my mind reeling as I tried to come up with a plan of action.

Despite my arguing, I really did want to shoot today. The weather was a mixture of overcast, with flashes of bright sun as the clouds skittered across the sky. The wind seemed minimal from what I could tell, which made for rather pleasant conditions. But beyond that, I wanted to move ahead with this project. I wanted to see what else we could produce. And if I was being honest, since receiving the surprisingly positive comments from professor Murray, I was even more determined to make this the best possible assignment I had ever done.

But my annoyance and anger with Harry had not faded despite his appearance at my door. He was seemingly on his best behavior, and although I appreciated the effort, I was still angry with him that it was necessary at all.

I felt torn when I thought of our tumultuous relationship. One minute, he was pushing me away, shouting at me and accusing me of prying into his life, when I had yet to ask him a single personal question with regard to the real reason I had been drawn to him in the first place.   The next minute he was seeking me out, almost to the point of trying to connect with me on a deeper level, but not knowing how. I didn't know his inner workings well enough yet, but it seemed to me that he kept holding himself back. Whether from accepting my friendship, or something more, it was like he was warring with himself as much as he was with me.

A knock at my door brought my attention back to the present.

"If you think hiding in there is going to make me leave, you're wrong," Harry called out. "So come on out or I'm coming in,"