Blurred Lines

BLURRED LINES: SIX

It had been almost a month since he left your place without a single word. A month of no texts, no calls and, obviously, not seeing each other. You both pretended you were busy, he had a lot of things to do: rehearsals, thinking about tour dates, organising photoshoots... You thought you were busy, taking care of your nephew whenever you could to keep your mind occupied, working late turns and studying even more, but the truth was everything you did was an excuse, an excuse to try not to think of him, of how your heart ached at how things had turned out.

You didn't expect a relationship; you didn't expect chocolates on St. Valentine's or rose bouquets. You didn't even expect that it would happen again. The only thing you asked for was your friend, your Harry, the one that could pull a smile on your face even on the darkest times. But he was gone. He hadn't tried to reach you, although, truth to be said, neither had you.

And yet you were nervous as you had never been, sitting around the restaurant table with your lifelong friends, sharing pints of beer while you waited for those who were missing to arrive so you could have dinner all together, waiting for him to show up. What were you supposed to do? Give him a kiss on the cheek or a hug as if nothing had happened? You didn't feel like it, he hurt you and, honestly, that was the last thing that you wanted to do. But you didn't want to involve your friends in this mess you'd both created. Yes, you'd pretend everything was fine and you'd cross your fingers that he'd do the exact same thing.

For better or for worse, he was the last one to arrive, so everyone had already ordered and you were waiting for the dishes to be served. You knew him too well at this point to know what he'd order, so you ordered for him, wishing that was the right choice and it wouldn't make things even more complicated.

When he arrived he just greeted everyone with a wave of his hand and when your friends told him what you'd ordered for him he just looked at you and nodded as he mumbled a simple "Thank you", that felt colder than every other time you'd tried not to talk to each other when you were younger and got mad for stupid things.

The dinner went quite smooth, despite the fact that you barely said two words to each other during the whole evening. You could see that your friends started to notice something was odd, but you pulled a smile on your face and kept up with the conversations that were taking place, laughing along when the situation required it and trying to keep the tears that were threatening to run down your cheeks from falling.

After a while of pretending, you couldn't take it anymore and you excused yourself, saying you were feeling a little bit under the weather so you were heading home to get some rest because you had plenty of things to do the following day, although it wasn't true. Becca offered to give you a ride home, but you politely declined her offer at the same time Harry announced he was leaving too because he was tired from rehearsals for his new tour.

"Oh! That's perfect then, maybe Harry can drive you home," she smiled at him, oblivious to what was really happening there.

"No!" you both answered quickly and in unison. She looked at you bewildered, not really understanding the tension that she was starting to feel between the two of you or the reason why that tension could be there.

"I really don't want to bother anyone. Besides, I drove to the restaurant, so I might as well drive home."

"Whatever," she shrugged her shoulders, giving you and Harry a confused look once more before she turned around to join the current conversation.

Later on, you stumbled upon him again, that time at a party. The difference was you weren't expecting him that time, it took you by surprise. You thought he'd be finalising the details for his tour and doing rehearsals all day long, so he wouldn't show up at all. What a fool, you thought. You tried to avoid him as much as you could, leaving the room whenever he came in, excusing yourself to use the toilet or refill your glass, even though most of the times it wasn't even empty. You had your way for a long time, until your friends decided it was enough and approached you to talk about what was going on.