The Beautiful Hummingbird - Part II

The Flask Edit

"Natasha, what are you so afraid of?"  His pleading is weighted with confusion. 

I place my palm on my forehead and Harry lets out a tiny grasp.  My coat sleeve has ridden down my arm and my wrist is visible.  Quickly, I pull my sleeves back over my truth.  I dig my fingers into the cuffs to prevent another slip but where I have bitten my nails raw, they push into the wool and I wince in pain.   

I have hardly touched my wine but Harry's glass is half empty.  I notice that each time he takes a sip, he places his glass nearer to mine. Our glasses now sit practically touching. Suddenly, he lifts his little finger up and hovers it in mid-air then he stretches it towards my hand, brushing its tip across my skin.  I falter for a split second. His slightest touch fires the feelings I have for him that will never diminish.

I snatch my hand away, sliding my glass with it.  "Nothing.  I'm afraid of nothing,"  I say defiant, before taking a huge swig of the wine.   

"You said you had to see me but you cannot even look at me can you?"  The strain in his voice is agonising. 

"Don't do this, please don't do this." I shake my head in denial.   

He ignores me.  "I'm intrigued.  Why ask me here?"

"Because I owe you an explanation and to apologise for the way I've treated you."

"But you haven't explained anything and if you simply wanted to say sorry you could have called or text me."

"Stop, this is not how it was supposed to be."

"Oh, how was it supposed to be?"  He sits back, placing both his palms face down on the table.  "So, you thought we would meet, you would say sorry, I would dutifully sit and listen and then we would go on our merry way." 

"Yes, no, I don't know."   

"Well I do, I know you remember.  You rehearsed your speech in your head but you didn't count on the fact that I have things I need you to hear." 

I shiver and wrap my arms around my body as he continues.

"Your silence is telling, Natasha." 

His harsh words drag my shocked expression to meet his. "Why are you being like this?"   

He leans forward, pulling his lips into his mouth and entwining his fingers together.  "Because every single day you still feel it, just like I feel it.  It doesn't matter how much you fight it, how much you try to push it away, the love between us is always there.  We are meant to be and I refuse to let you destroy your life and mine.  I want you to live and to love and I want to be the person that lives and loves beside you."

I have underestimated him.  It seems he also thought about his something to say and his words have left me stumbling.  With an overwhelming urge to run again, I attempt to stand but he leans over the table, encasing my hands in his. My heart pounds in my ribs, throbbing through my ears.  I must not fold.  I must be strong.   

I try wriggling my hands free but he grips them tight.  I nibble at my lip to stop the flow of my emotions. With a deep breath, I stare at him and all my strength immediately zaps out of me. His face is weary and his eyes are empty; their sparkle no longer alive.  He looks lost and I am at fault for him losing his way.

"I shouldn't have come.  You were right, I should have spoken to you on the phone instead," my voice breaks, unable to stand what torment I have put him through.

"You must listen to me.  I have spent the last few weeks thinking of nothing else but you.  I don't need to forgive you; there is nothing to forgive.  I've thought about my life with you and my life without you and I always arrive at the same place.  You.  I cannot live without you.  I don't want to do it without you.  I love you.