Caught in a Lie ~ h.s.

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"Ha ha." Harry kiddingly laughs with a roll of his eyes. "We're going up. If you need anything... don't." And with that Harry grasps my empty hand again, my other juggling the beer and stolen flower, and leads me towards the back of the pub where a staircase rests.

I feel instantly comfortable with Harry's hand in mine and safe as he leads us up the several stories of the pub until we reach a door that reads rooftop. Without much strength he pushes the door open with his shoulder and leads me out onto the roof, tugging me closely behind him. Once were out and under the starry sky, I'm in awe.

Immediately a gasp leaves my lips at the sight before us. My jaw drops as my hand leaves Harry's and I'm running to the edge of the rooftop to look at the picturesque scene before us. In the near distance you can see Tower Bridge lit up brightly on one side and with a slight turn of your head you can see the London Eye. I'm far more impressed with this place than I was before, the view this place has spectacular and I'm obsessed with the image I'm met with. I can't believe I live outside London and never have I seen a view like this.

Why hadn't I done this sooner?

"Do you like it?"

"Like it? This is amazing; I love it." Harry stands beside me, his forearms resting along the wall around the rooftop as his body leans over the edge. His own eyes looking out at the scenery as he takes a sip of his beer quietly, as if used to seeing this view.

"Precisely the reason I brought you here. This is my favourite place to come and think."

"It's a wonderful place to sit and think." I agree, my eyes feeling a bit damp from the beauty before me, but I won't cry. I'm not one to cry easily, if I do it's for a good reason, though I would argue this is a really good reason to cry. After being held captive in my own home for nearly my entire life, with little solo freedom, I've finally made it here, under a series of fortunate events. Many won't make a big deal out of this scene, but for me this is everything I've dreamed of. This view itself represents the freedom I've been lacking since birth and how I've finally escaped, temporarily, to enjoy it. I'd say that it's a solid reason to shed a tear or two.

"You look so happy."

"I am."

Twenty minutes later, nearing closer to thirty, we're still on the roof. I'm still admiring the view before me, taking a couple photos with my phone for my own personal viewing and oohing and awing at every little thing I see. Harry has since taken a seat beside me. Though I'm not paying much attention to him, I can feel his eyes burning holes in my skin. The mere staring causes shivers to run up and down my spine and goosebumps to line my skin, but I try to push the feeling back, though they're intense and hard to deny.

"So..." I break the silence and spin around on my heels, painfully removing my eyes from the beauty behind me, "you have a sister." I point out, taking a seat in the chair that Harry has pulled over towards his. He smiles lightly over at me before dipping his head down to look at his nearly drunk beer bottle.

"I do. She lives over in Mayfair, with her husband. I was going to stop-by for a quick visit, but then I met you."

"So you ditched her for me?"

"Ditched is a harsh word, more like politely told her I couldn't come anymore. I see her a couple times a week so it's really not an issue. I'd much rather be here with you if I'm honest." A nervousness bubbles up inside when a cheeky grin is shown in my direction. I hope that the dark of the night hides the deep rouge that is painted on my cheeks, but I think he notices.

"Why's that?"

"Because as much as I love my sister, I can only handle so much of her. And I enjoy your company just as much." Again, the blush is present and I'm praying it goes unnoticed.

"You just met me." I remind him, but he just shrugs. "I enjoy your company too." I confess, settling comfortably into my chair as I sip at my beer. The small sips I hope go unnoticed as well; I knew there was a reason why I stick to champagne and wine. Beer is not the alcoholic beverage for me, but I'm too polite to deny the drink. "Will you tell me more about yourself? I feel like you already asked a lot of me, it's only fair."

"There's not much else to me."

"Oh come on, there has to be something else. Tell me anything." I urge, leaning back in my chair, my eyes still locked on Harry as he takes a moment to think. I admire the way his lips purse together in thought and the way he rolls his bottom lip between his forefinger and thumb. I've noticed it twice now tonight and the habit makes me smile.

"I'm a godfather." He says after his moment to think. Immediately, a larger grin than I had before comes to my lips as I try to picture him with children. There's something so intriguing about a man who's great with children. "My friend, Liam, has a son and I'm his godfather, I'm also a godfather to my friend's, Ben, daughter, and both my sister's kids."

When he confessed he was a godfather I just imagined to one child, never did I picture multiple kids. There's something about that that allows me to trust Harry more than I have been. If people trust Harry with their own flesh and blood, then he must be pretty spectacular. I guess there really isn't anything to be worried about with him.

"Wow, people really entrust you with their children."

"They also know how much I adore children, which helps when you're a candidate to be a godparent."

"Do you have pictures of them?" I wonder, wanting so desperately to see him with these kids, my own obsession with becoming a mother in the future a main reason for my curiosity.

I've known that I wanted children for as long as I can remember, but with my lack of partner and urge to get married I'm in no position to bring a child into the world. I want a couple to raise properly and respectfully, but I'm also cautious knowing that they will be in line for the throne after my death. I don't want that lingering responsibility to be force-fed down my childrens' throats like it was me. I want them to know the history and the future, but I don't want them to stress over it. It's a lot of pressure for a child and I know I'm not ready for that yet.

"This is a picture from my last birthday." Harry hands me his phone with a photo of him and four kids pulled up. He's sitting upon a chair with a baby in his arms, a toddler sitting on his lap, a young girl standing at his side, and a little boy sitting atop his feet and clutching his legs. "That's Liam's son, Bear," my eyes flash up to his face when the baby in his arm's name is revealed, "I know it's bizarre, but I can't deny that it's cute. That little girl is Ruby, Ben's daughter," he says, pointing to the adorable toddler in his lap, "and those two kiddos are my sister's children, Blair and Charlie."

"They're adorable." They are indeed beautiful children and I can't help but catch baby fever in that exact moment, but honestly what's new? Everytime I see a baby I get baby fever; I think most women during their childbearing years do, at least at times.

"I sense a bit of hesitation in your tone." How can he pick up on that slight hesitation? What is he, a mind reader?

"Children scare me a bit." That's the lie I settle on. I can't very well say that my slight distaste for having children is because I'm a royal and making an impression on a child is very scary to me. "Yeah, they're so impressionable and fragile."

"You haven't spent a lot of time around kids, have you?" I take a sip of my beer, shaking my head as I let the cool, bitter beverage slide down my throat. "They're not as fragile as you'd think. If you play your cards right I may just introduce you to some really cool ones."

A smile comes to my lips and a small laugh escapes, a giggle if you will. My inner giddy teenager is squealing over the fact that Harry's thought far enough ahead that he wants me to meet his godchildren. We only just met an hour ago and he's already talking about spending more time together. I can't tell if I'm scared of his revelation or if I'm slightly turned on.

"I guess I will."

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