witness || h.s.|| ON HOLD

twenty-nine || high in the misty highlands

    "Harry, you do realize if you keep showing that you care about me, Will is eventually going to run his mouth to Whit, and tell him that you aren't focused on your mission," I spoke hesitantly.

   "Will won't say a fucking thing, and if he does...I'll...I'll-"

    "You'll what?" I snapped. "You guys are like brothers! Do you really think that if it came down to it you could hurt him? No, you couldn't. This is just some weird phase you're in with me right now, it doesn't mean anything!" The lies slipped off my tongue and left a sour taste. 

   "Oh really? Then why were you staring at my lips on the plane?" He smirked, and my face felt hot.

    "You uh...you had something on your mouth," I shrugged.

Smooth, Tate. Real smooth.

   "Yeah, okay," he laughed.

   "I'm serious!" I cried, only making Harry laugh more.

    "Are you sure it didn't have something to do with you wanting to kiss me as much as I've been wanting to kiss you?" He suddenly asked, and I audibly gasped.

 "What the fuck, Harry!"

     "Tate, you and I both know that kiss we had wasn't just because of the alcohol, and I know you enjoyed it as much as I did," He remarked.

   "Can we stop talking about this?" I begged, the awkward tension in the car becoming too much for me to handle.

   "Tate, you do realize that before you showed up, Will and I had never had a fight, right?" 

   I put my hands up in mock defense. "Oh, I'm so sorry I ruined your relationship with your fellow psychopathic friend!"

  "I'm serious! Yeah, we have had the occasional minor disagreement, but I've never laid a hand on him before today. I've never cared about unnecessary casualties, before I met you, I would have killed anyone who got in the way of my work," he continued.

   "Is that supposed to comfort me?" I asked, chuckling in disbelief.

  "No, maybe..I don't know. All I'm saying is, you can tell yourself that I don't care about you all that you want, but you know it's a lie. And you know that you're lying to yourself when you say that you don't care about me either," he finished, a smug grin on his face.

   "Harry, I trust you. I know that you would never hurt me, and I appreciate that. But trusting someone, and having feelings for someone, are two very different things," I explained. 

  "Whatever helps you sleep at night, just like having my arms around you helps you sleep better. I know you were tossing and turning all night last night," he shot back. 

   "Cause I couldn't get comfortable," I lied, not wanting to admit that I had grown fond of being held by him at night, and how even though he was still right next to me, nothing felt quite as safe as having his arms around me. 

    "Yeah, okay. Well, lucky for you, this conversation is over, we're here," he spoke, and I looked up to see a medium-sized house, tucked away on a hill.

  "Thank goodness," I mumbled.

      We pulled up the long driveway, the other car following close behind. I had to say, I was glad that this conversation was over, but I wasn't looking forward to sharing a house with Will for the next few days. 

    The house was beautiful, and so was the landscaping. Lush green grass spread out as far as the eye could see. Little white flowers were sprinkled across the front yard.