Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

40. The Talk

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"So what was it that you had to tell me?" I casually bring up, and I can't help but notice the way that eyes quickly dart away from me.

What are you hiding from me in that beautiful mind of yours?

Taking a deep break, he takes a sip from his drink, and my patience is wavering very thin.

Stop stalling!

He takes a seat at the table, and I follow suit, sitting at the head of the table.

"Harry?" I urge, pressing him to answer my question.

I don't feel comfortable with this silence. I don't understand why he's being so difficult. He was the one that brought this topic up, and I can't stand that he's now coming up with ways to avoid telling me.

"Okay," he exhales. "But before we get to that, I just want to make sure you're alright after that game of charades," he tells me, taking my hand in his.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" I blurt, without any sense of conviction.

"Ava, clearly you were affected by it," he asserts, rubbing the back of his hand along my cheekbone. I can't help but lean into his touch, and my eyes close, involuntarily.

"I'm not affected," I maintain, stubbornly looking away.

"No Ava, you are, but that's okay. That was pretty brutal back there. I can't remember the last time I cringed that much in such a short period of time."

"Okay!" I reply, being brought to my breaking point. "I don't enjoy hearing about your past relationships, or flings, or whatever they were. But I can't pretend that I'm not... intimidated by your past. You've had a lot more experience than me, and I -"

He holds his hand up to stop me from continuing, with a hint of a smile on his lips. "Ava," he speaks to me, so earnestly, pulling my chair closed to him. "Experience?" he laughs gently. "Is this what this is all about?"

I can't really see the humour in this, but I let him go on. "Ava, we went through this," he explains gently. "I love the way that you are. I wouldn't have you any other way."

"It's not just that," I reply meekly, and he nods his head, beckoning me to continue. "Well... those girls. Those girls are obviously...famous. They're used to your world, with the screaming fans, and those men that stand outside your house at all hours with their flashing cameras. I don't know how cut out I am for that kind of lifestyle when this is all so new to me."

"You think that's what I want?" he inquires softly. "Someone who was born with a silver spoon in their mouth? Someone entitled, who thinks this kind of lifestyle is normal?"

Shrugging, with my eyes focused firmly on the ground, I give the tiniest nod. Instantly he's kneeling down on the floor, holding my face tenderly in his hands.

"Ava, I wouldn't have you any other way," he tells me, kissing my lips softly.

I can't tell if it's his words, or the kiss alone, but I'm suddenly smiling, feeling slightly more optimistic about our predicament.

"You have to know Ava, I really, really like you. In fact, I adore you. But I don't expect you to change, or to be someone that you're not. I love that you're so real, and down to earth, and you treat me like I'm -"

"Some guy?" I cut in, finishing him mid sentence. Beaming from the reference of a past conversation he shakes his head in wonder, and I can't help but smile too.