Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 27

"Well, yeah -- " I smile, elbowing him playfully. "Did you think I was gonna have you drag me out here in the freezing cold of winter at 3am to just look at the damn thing?"

Harry chuckles and shakes his head as he starts for the ladder, letting his feet and arms check to make sure it was sturdy before making his way up carefully. The old wood creaked and groaned as he pulled his lean frame up the ladder and through the hole. As the wood moaned and settled, he worried about whether or not it could hold our weight, but as he remembered all the things he and his friends had done in this treehouse, he stopped worrying.

After he got inside, he turned around -- waiting for me to climb up. After penetrating the hole, he took the flashlight from me and gave me his hand, his hands feeling warm and sturdy around mine before helping to pull me up next to him.

He scooted back to make room for me, his back hitting up against the wall as I got comfortable by sitting indian style mere inches from him. We both took a deep breath as wood continued to creak in protest of the added occupants, but we both let it out calmly when nothing happened and we realized we were safe.

Once settled, Harry takes the flashlight and spreads it around inside, flashing it along the walls that still hold old posters, ticket stubs, flyers, and photos of years long past.

"This is really cool," I smile, reaching up to touch an old ticket stub to see The Rolling Stones. "You've just always loved music, huh?"

He chuckles. "Yeah, it's just always been a part of me, I dunno." His eyes catch the X Factor audition flyer and he took a deep breath.

"Why'd you quit?" I ask, trying to mask the curiosity in my voice. When I look over at him, I see an uncomfortable look on his face.

He chuckles sardonically as he got lost in thought at the question, shaking his head at me before pressing his lips together. He didn't want to say, so I just nodded, not wanting to push him.

Harry sighs again as he looks around, the memories flooding back and filling his mind. All the nights with his best friends, talking about music and movies and girls and whatever else was on their minds. He hadn't seen some of those guys in years -- some of them moved on, got married -- some, he didn't even know what happened to them. They all just drifted away from each other somehow.

"Me and my friends used to chill up here when we were 10," he started on a new topic, leaning back a little. His fingertips brushed something cold and metallic, quickly realizing it was a beer can. He chuckled as he tossed it, hearing it clatter as it found a new home on the floor. "And Nick and I drank up here when we were 16."

I laugh. "You and Nick have known each other for a long time, huh?"

He nodded, that tight pulling sensation coming over his chest again when he thought of his best friend.

"How'd you meet?"

"Our mom's are good friends," he shrugs dismissively, peering out the window. "He just gets me, ya know?"

Long pause.

"Or he used to, anyway."

He tenses. Why did he say that? His eyes find mine in the darkness, and even though its pitch black, we can see each other pretty well. My cheeks are pink from the cold, my lips red from licking at them, and my green eyes pierce the darkness between us in a way that unbeknownst to me, makes his heart beat faster.