Toploader- Dancing in the Moonlight.
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His chipped black nail polish matched mine. His helix piercing matched mine, the same titanium loop. And his strands of golden hair matched a few of mine also. Eli. Artwork in human form.
My hands clasped around his neck as he talked about the last gallery he'd gone to. I had been listening, I was interested, as I sat perched upon his lap with my legs dangling over the side of his thighs. But somewhere amongst the rundown of his favourite piece, I had gotten lost in world of my head.
I couldn't stop noticing how beautiful he was, how his sun-kissed hair fell in all kinds of directions yet always seemed unified. As I brushed a strand of fallen hair from his forehead, I imagined that he had been created from nothing but the art he spoke about. I imagined the making of his form, born from pages of drawings, as if they had risen from their place on paper and gravitated towards his bare skin like a life raft. Like they had enveloped him in an embrace, arms open wide.
His strong jaw turned my way and his eyes flickered to my lips, "Zoned out again?" He asked as he usually did when I became too quiet during his stories. I gave him a look, "No," I drew the word out like he was absurd, "You always just get me thinking, you know your words take me places. I heard you though." Eli's softly sculpted lips turned upwards as he tightened his hold on my waist.
"Oh yeah?" He was really smiling now, "And what was I saying?"
My nails ran up the nape of his neck gently, smoothing into his hair. Surprisingly, I had heard what he had been saying. His voice had played amongst my running thoughts, like it was the soundtrack to my elaborate imagining of Eli being made purely from drawings. Crazy, I know. But awfully nice to think about.
"You were saying how you'd much rather analyse the thought process behind the artwork, instead of looking at the artwork itself. That you're more interested in knowing why the artist chose every single detail that they did, instead of anything else."
Eli looked rather impressed, his thighs tensing beneath me as he manoeuvred them slightly. "Don't mind me then, of course you were listening." He laughed, pressing a kiss to my cheek closest to him. My legs that were coated in dark denim, draped over Eli comfortably, fishnet tights peeking through the rips of my jeans. Eli's tattooed finger played with a thread near one of the rips, his hand resting over my cold skin, another reminder of his warmth.
I lay my head down onto his shoulder, feeling his cheek press onto the side of my temple in comfort for a second before retreating it. "We should go, to the gallery, if you'd like that as well? Sometimes they have these nights where it's more of a party scene, it's pretty cool actually. But nothing crazy." Eli shyly spoke.
"Sounds pretty great to me." A voice that was definitely not mine, said.
Eli and I both turned towards the entrance of the shop, a guilty looking Dee standing behind an awkward looking Harry. As subtly as I could, I furrowed my brows at Dee to ask 'what the fuck?', to which she then motioned towards the door, then back to herself, then over to us, her hands gesturing in all sorts of directions as she mouthed an 'I'm so sorry'.
I had finished my last client of the day only fifteen minutes prior to me taking residence on Eli's lap. It was Friday night, I knew Harry would be coming at some stage, and I had planned on waiting eagerly until he had arrived. Now he was here, right here.
"Hey, man." Eli greeted Harry from beside me, he shifted upwards and I took that cue, as well as my own, to push myself up from his lap and stand a good distance away from the both of them.
It was like placing two animals in the same vicinity and waiting to see how they'd react, to see how they'd handle the situation of being face to face. Eli knew of Harry, of all the things that had happened in between, and Harry knew of Eli briefly because he had been the one to host his infamous Halloween parties.
It was very clear that both Dee and I were unsure of how things would play out. If we should approach with care or if we should take a step back and let things unfold naturally. We bore into each other's eyes long and hard enough for us to understand that we were going to see how things played out on their own.
Harry held a smile on his face that looked genuine. Which scared me slightly. He also held a plastic bag of some sought in his right hand. "Hey." Harry said with a grin. He approached Eli, both men closing in on each other, he stuck out his hand and Eli clasped onto it, the both of them greeting one another in a handshake.
I almost couldn't believe what I was seeing, and I was truly trying to take in the scene before me. As they casually addressed each other with niceties and looked around as if things weren't weird. Were they? Things certainly felt weird to me. They definitely were. Or maybe, things didn't have to be weird if I didn't make them weird.
"You're here early." I blurted, clasping my hands together as if I were about to start some presentation. All three sets of eyes turned to me and I internally scolded myself for choosing to turn the speakers off before. Something melodically soft would be a nice background noise to all of this.
Harry's hair had a dampness to it, almost like he had literally taken a shower and then bolted here. It wasn't raining outside surprisingly, so that option was ruled out. And sadly, I still remembered vividly the way Harry's hair dried after he showered. All soft and luscious and tempting.
"You never actually gave me a time, I uh, I hope this suits? I can come back later if you want me to?" Harry said, starting off jokingly but ending far too sweetly for my cheeks to not slightly heat. I shook my head, "No, no it's okay. It's just a consultation we've got, nothing that will take hours."
Harry nodded like everything was totally cool, totally calm, totally casual. Was it? Was I the only one making this weird? Why was I always the one to make things weird? I took a deep breath and then held it as Eli spoke.
"How've you been? I feel like you dropped off the face of the earth for a bit there." Dee widened her eyes, matching mine, as Eli laughed along with Harry. Although if anything, I could tell by the small faltering of Harry's lips that maybe he also felt the same as me.
I couldn't help but internally wince at Eli's words. He was a man of very few, and so it felt strange to me that he'd chosen upon those. I wasn't sure whether he was playing the slightly protective role or if he genuinely wanted to point out the obvious.
Harry shifted his stance and switched the plastic bag to hold in his other hand. "Probably cause I did, yeah," He nodded, "Been quiet but that's alright." His lips formed a line, the usual half-assed-smile-because-you're-making-me-kinda-uncomfortable look. And honestly, I didn't blame him for it.
"Quiet without the other three," Eli chuckled, "It's about time you did your own thing, anybody could have seen their path of destruction from a mile away." I felt another wince at that. I was trying to reign Eli in with a simple glance but he wasn't looking my way.
"It's just been quiet because I've made it quiet. Don't really wanna give them more thought time than they've already had." Harry answered.
It was obvious they were addressing the rest of the band— or lack there of— without directly having to name them each. Another thing I understood completely. I eyed Eli wearily, worried he'd blurt something out that would make this situation even stranger. "Well, should we get going then?" I said too suspiciously. Harry looked my way, a thankful smile finding him.
He nodded, then I nodded. "Yeah that sounds great." He was approaching me now. I gestured my hand out for him to follow and I began to make my way over to the small office we had beside the storage room.
"We'll just be in here if you need." I called out to Dee. She sent me a thumbs up and a wink, "And I'll be right out here." I stuck my tongue out at her, to which she returned. Grabbing the small key from my pocket, I unlocked the door and held it open for Harry. He sent me a nod.
Taking one last glance in Dee's direction, she sat behind the front desk and made kissy faces. I flipped her off discreetly. "Hey, one sec." Eli called out, causing both Dee and I's playful exchange to come to a halt. Eli jogged over to where I was now standing, to where Harry was now waiting awkwardly for me in the office. My side was still propped against the heavy door as I held it open.
"The thing I was talking about before," Eli said to Harry, my jaw clenching, "The art gallery parties, there's one happening tomorrow night. You sounded interested before and you know, might be fun, if we all tag along. You're free aren't you, babe?" Eli was looking right at me now, and even though I couldn't see Harry directly because he was behind me, I felt him all the more fiercely.
I was meant to reply now, I thought to myself. He had asked me a question and I was meant to reply, but I was just making things weird. Again. I couldn't get over what he'd just asked though. I felt like I needed more than a few minutes to let it sink in. Why was it the normal thing for people to reply straight away? We should at least be given a period of time to think about what we want to say without it seeming strange.
Was it more weirder that Eli had just invited Harry to a party with both Dee and I and himself? There was no other group of friends, it was just the three of us. And now Harry? Or was it more weirder that my insides felt on high alert knowing Eli called me 'babe' in front of Harry? What was all that about?
"Uh," Harry drew out, slow, unsure, probably wishing for more time to think. Much like I was. I couldn't even make an excuse about having a client tomorrow night, Eli knew the schedule off by heart just like Dee and I did. "I'm free, yeah." I stammered out, sending a warning glare to Dee. Even she looked terrified.
"We don't have to choose right now." Dee announced, laughing like the room hadn't suddenly filled with a heated tension. "Nah, of course." Eli agreed, "It's the Moonlight Muse Gallery, in the city, only one there is, so there's no mixup. Starts at nine, tomorrow night. No pressure. You're welcome to come though, have a think." Harry blinked in Eli's direction as he turned and walked away.
I didn't waste anymore time though, I took one step into the office and heard the door slowly shut behind me. My shoulders eased at the sound of the click. The smell of something delicious and homey tugged at my senses and I narrowed my gaze to the bag in Harry's hand.
He must have noticed where my attention was because he lifted the bag up onto the usually messy but now clean desk, as he ever so casually announced, "Dinner."
I couldn't help but let out a laugh, "Dinner? You didn't have to bring dinner. This is a consultation to book you in for the ink you want done." Obviously he already knew that. "I know," He said, because he did, "But it's bordering on dinner time and I thought, why the hell not, yeah?" He began untying the knot that sealed the bag closed and as he did, a breath of steam blew upwards.
I stood still, my docs planted to the floor. I was chewing the inside of my cheeks like crazy all because I didn't know what to do with myself. I was supposed to be professional, wasn't I? This was my place of work, this was business.
"Come on, Mae, we've eaten together before. This doesn't have to be weird." Harry spoke softly, taking out clear containers packed with pasta. "It's not weird." I said quickly. If I didn't make it weird, it wouldn't be. I repeated that a few more times over in my mind before I decided to take a step from my spot.
I walked around the desk and pulled out the chair, taking a seat while watching Harry. This was definitely not like any other consultation I'd had before, but I was secretly okay with that.
"I got some stuff from the Italian place down the road. Fettuccine Alfredo, Penne Pesto and Baked Eggplant Parmigiana. Nothing too insane." My mouth had started salivating as soon as he'd begun listing things off. "Sounds amazing," My voice sounded softer than I'd intended so I decided to balance it out, "But again, you really didn't have to do this. It's very, uh, not what I was expecting."
Harry nodded as he listened, "I'm taking any chances I can with you, Mae. We're just sitting down and talking, and now, eating too. Just having a chat while eating, it's no big deal." He was trying to make me feel better about it, I could tell. I tightened my ponytail and smiled, "It's no big deal, totally. Just talking and eating. Casual. Normal." I said aloud though it was more meant to stay inside my mind.
"Totally," Harry smiled, taking a seat opposite me, "Casual. Normal. We can do that, can't we?" I suddenly found myself nodding, "Yeah, yeah we can do that." Harry looked at ease now as he sat tall in his seat. The desk separated us and I was thankful for that.
The steaming pasta was placed between us, three containers all perfectly aligned for the both of us to reach easily. Harry placed a plastic plate in front of me, then in front of himself, he pulled out the cutlery from the bag as well, watching me expectantly, "You like these, right? I figured you might, but I can change any if you'd like?" I shook my head and picked up the fork beside my plate.
"I do like all of these. Thank you."
I carefully forked a portion of each pasta into my plate before bringing it back to me. Harry did the same and I tried to watch him discreetly as he did so. There was a sense of familiarity in the room now, a snippet of my early twenties that oddly brought me comfort. He was it, I realised. Just his presence in front of me now put my body at ease. Like I was safe. Like I could rest. Like I could stop running. From what? I wasn't sure.
Digging into the fettuccine, I twirled it around on the spoon and watched it like it was the most interesting thing I'd seen all night. A soft melodic tune slowly flitted through the air, causing Harry and I to both glance up and meet each other's gaze in confusion.
It came directly from the speaker in the top right corner of the wall. Harry and I turned to look sideways. I narrowed my gaze watching it as it played a soft tune. The warming sound of Harry's laugh then accompanied the music, and as I listened to the song more carefully I recognised what it was.
Dancing in the Moonlight swam gently through the speaker, through the room, through the shop. Dee, I knew it was her doing, only she controlled the music when she was in. But I could also hear her laughing even with a wall separating us.
I wasn't sure which was worse, having no music or having this. Because the romantic, twinkly, airy sound had begun and I couldn't help but be taken back in time as I met those amused green eyes staring back at me.
Harry erupted into a laughter so deep and so hearty I bet he didn't know how much the sound hurt to hear. But it made me smile. And the fact that I was here, with Harry, eating the dinner he'd brought us, with a funky tune playing, that made me laugh too. Because did I ever imagine myself in this situation again? No. But things seemingly felt perfect even if I didn't think that could have happened.
"We get it almost every night." Harry began half whispering, half humming, as he dug into his pasta and brought it to his lips. I smiled so widely at him that it hurt. "You can't keep going." I laughed.
"Oh, I can't?" His brows rose and his dimples showed.
"This is serious, we need to start chatting about-"
"When that moon is big and bright, it's a supernatural delight! Everybody's dancing in the moonlight."
"Oh my god."
Harry lay his forehead in his palm and laughed even louder than before. Now rubbing at his eye sockets. I swallowed my forkful and choked out a laugh too. "Okay, nah, I'm done. I'm listening." He coughed, clearing his throat and trying not to smile. With the music still playing lightly in the background, I swallowed down some more pasta before bringing myself back into my work mind.
"Alright, well, I've got a form for you to sign, just your usual information and reading through some things. I've got a free spot Tuesday morning and then Tuesday night, which I know is annoying, so if you'd like consecutive sessions I've got," I paused to think for a second, trying to recall the date I'd written down in my notebook earlier, "I've got Thursday afternoon and night. Whichever suits you, totally your call."
"I might take the Thursday." He said.
I nodded, "Perfect. Depending on what you want done we can add more sessions, but I'll book you in for Thursday afternoon and onwards?" Shoving the last of what was on my plate into my mouth, I reached over to grab my notebook.
I slid the pen from the top and opened onto the right date. "Book it in." He said proudly, finishing off his plate too. I scribbled his name and date, "Two in the afternoon sound good to you?" I asked, peering up at him. "Yeah, sounds great." He confirmed. I scribbled in the time as well and then shut the book closed, sliding the metal of the pen back over the top.
"Try not to have any caffeine before your session, or on the day, just to be safe, it'll make you bleed more. But, you would already know that." I laughed breathlessly, "I suppose I don't really need to run through every detail to somebody who used to do this very job."
Harry shrugged, "You could still. I really like hearing you talk."
I propped my elbows up onto the table and took a breath. "I don't want to tell you something you already know." Harry gave a small nod, sitting back on his chair, "Okay, tell me something I don't then."
"We aren't finished with the consultation yet." I told him, rubbing my increasingly clammy palms over my denim clad thighs. "We'll finish the consult, then you can tell me." He offered.
I frowned at him. Thinking. I could possibly do that. Tell him something he doesn't yet know. I've got three years of built up Mae-brain thoughts that he doesn't know about, I supposed giving him one wouldn't hurt.
Pushing away from the desk, I walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a sheet that clients sign before any sessions start. Propping it neatly in front of Harry, now that his plate was pushed to the side, he looked at it and I held out a pen for him to take. He took it, reading the paper carefully and filling in where needed.
I sat back down, grabbed my cutlery, and took forkfuls out of each container again, holding my hand underneath each bite. Once Harry was done, he sat back and watched me eat. There was a sense of mesmerisation in his eyes, like he was savouring each bite with me. I only realised this once I'd stopped seeing the pen move in front of me.
"All done?" I questioned, swallowing my last bite before putting the fork down. He nodded, looking warm and comfortable in his black hoodie. Amongst it, I noticed he wore a blue beaded necklace, a kind of pattern residing on each bead face. I tore my eyes away and took the paper as he handed it to me. "Great," I looked over it, "Thanks for that. We should probably discuss what you want done now." I placed the sheet of paper into the cover of my notebook.
Harry tapped his fingers on the wood of the desk, his ringed fingers that never went bare recalling some kind of melody. It was then that I noticed his nails were painted a deep blue.
"You could tell me that thing first, and then I could tell you what ink I want done?"
"That thing?"
"Yeah, that thing. The something I don't already know."
I huffed in thought, glancing up at the ceiling to think. It was like plucking a lucky dip from my mind. I wasn't sure what I would get, and therefore, I really didn't know if it would benefit anything or not.
Harry watched me intently, I now watched him too. His hair was drying quickly, it was more tousled than before, more ends curling into the perfect little flick. A layer of stubble coated his jaw. It suited him. Seeing him so different. Seeing him in a season other than summer. It reminded me that he was real, that he wasn't just a person that came alive in the summer time. He was here all round. Here for it all. I just hadn't been able to find him properly until now.
"I used to really miss the times you'd sing for me. I, well, I still miss it quite a lot actually. But there were moments back then when, you know, when I'd really needed it, to just hear you sing something to me one last time." I recalled softly, looking at him but seeing those memories dance around him in a hazy vision again.
He sat there and I wondered if he looked at me and saw those moments playing nonstop too. "That breaks my heart." He quietly whispered. And in all of the ways I could have taken that, interpreted it, I almost sympathised with him now having that knowledge.
I had told him something that he hadn't known, something that hurt to know, but something that no longer mattered. It no longer mattered because I had now grown to need something else in place of his singing. It were other things I now reached for when I needed to be reigned back into reality, different things, not just one. I no longer felt the need to reach for anything he had once given me.
That used to be a heartbreaking thought. It sat a little lighter within me now though. So, in a sense, I believed Harry when he said that broke his heart, because it had once broken mine too.
"Yeah," I exhaled gently, "But it's okay, you've made peace with things and so have I."
My hands fidgeted underneath the desk and I noticed that they were no longer clammy, just freezing cold. "I really liked having you listen to them, the songs. It almost felt like I couldn't play them for anyone else unless you'd heard them first. But even if I played in front of a crowd, I swear you were the only person I wanted listening to it." He grinned.
I smiled as I thought about it, about how sickeningly ecstatic twenty year-old Mae would have been to know that Harry had just said that.
"Who do you like listening to your songs now? Anybody you play for?" I prodded with a knowing playfulness to my face. Harry just laughed, though one that sounded distant even though he was sitting right in front of me.
"Nah," He said faintly, "I mainly just write my music now, the lyrics, what I would want it to sound like, what notes I'd use, but I don't actually play them out loud."
My brows furrowed and my heart sank a little. "How do you know they sound good then?"
He shrugged, "I don't. I'm just not ready to play them out loud yet, I don't know, sounds stupid but, yeah, not sure why exactly." My body deflated at that, maybe not externally, but definitely internally. He had just unintentionally told me something I hadn't already known, and now here we sat with two slightly wounded hearts because of it.
"I'm sure you'll feel ready one day, very sure actually." I watched his dimples as they formed. "Yeah," He shyly shrugged this time, like it was no big deal, "Maybe one day."
A quietness settled between us. It wasn't the kind of silence where you both knew it felt awkward. It was more the silence of two people thinking loudly, the quietness was welcome.
I couldn't tell what Harry was thinking about, but his head was down and his eyes were focused on what I assumed were his fingers in his lap. I was thinking about the fact that speaking with Harry about the past, like we'd just done, was actually kind of freeing. It stung a bit, and it hurt for who we once were, but it felt refreshing that we were now two different people who could talk about it.
Internally I sighed, "You should probably tell me what kind of ink you'd like done." Harry brought his attention towards me again, his thoughts scurrying off for right now, no doubt ready to come back later.
"It's not a huge piece or anything like that, I was more wanting a shitload of random little ones. To fill in some spaces but also start on some fresh skin."
"Okay, that's cool. I can do that. Any kind of ideas in mind?" I asked him, ready to log it into my work memory bank, not all of the other memory banks I had for other occasions.
One corner of his lips quirked up a bit, smirking before he decided to speak. "Remember the first time we stayed at that hotel for a gig, I asked to see the journal you were drawing in?" He was still smirking as I furrowed my brows at him knowingly, "Mhm, yeah." I muttered hesitantly.
"So you remember that I told you I wanted you to draw me a tattoo?"
"Harry."
"It's time. I told you I wouldn't take no for an answer when I came around to asking you again. And, well, this is me asking you now."
As if my memories weren't already ghostly serenading around him, they now switched to that night in specific. I'd tried to forget so much of what happened so I couldn't recall much of anything from that night, but, of course, I remembered exactly what he was talking about.
"I have to draw your tattoos though, it's a part of my job." I reminded him, and this seemed to only make him shift forward in his chair and laugh.
"I know that," He lay one palm flat upon the desk as if he were brainstorming his reasoning as he spoke, "But think of it this way. I'll tell you the general idea of what I want, but then you can draw it in any way you feel. So, it'll be your way of interpreting things. I've wondered so long about the way you think, about how you see even the smallest of things. So I'll tell you what I want and then it'll be drawn through your gaze. Then I'll get to finally have some of your drawings on me."
I gawked at him, "For life, Harry, you'll have my gaze expressed through drawings on your body for life. Permanent ink on your skin forever. What if you eventually come to hate me?" I was talking quicker than usual which meant he had really stumped me.
Harry scoffed, "I could never hate you." He shook his head and came forward with both elbows on the desk, "And I know how tattoos work, remember? You're a professional now but you're freaking out just as much as you did back then. It's very cute."
My eyes widened and my cheeks grew hot, I rolled my eyes as if that would rid my fleeting temperature. "I'm not freaking out for no reason. I feel like that's a huge step to take and I don't want you to regret it." I told him.
"I'm not going to regret it."
"And how do you know that?"
Harry glanced sideways at the clock hanging on the wall and then brought his focus back to me. "Because it is almost seven thirty on a random Friday night and I love you. That clock could have its hands in any direction and I would still love you. I saw the talent in you then, and I see the talent in you tenfold now. I want that on me forever, Mae. I will love you through any time, any day, any season, any moment. I will. And that's how I know I won't regret it, because I'm so sure about that."
The memories had stopped serenading him now, almost as if they had paused awkwardly and slipped through the door, on their way out.
I'd wondered for so long what it would feel like to be told that by Harry. For him to tell me he loved me and for me to feel that it was something constant. It felt very constant. Very grounding. Very sure. I wasn't used to him being so adamant about anything.
But he was, and I could feel it. I could feel that he was sure about what he'd just said.
It was me that felt like the loose end now, and not because I wanted to be, not because I wanted to mindlessly dance my way around and make Harry work for it.
I felt like the loose end now because for so long I had re-wired my brain into categorising Harry as somebody bad, as somebody who could no longer have access to me. But he was back now, and he was changed, and he was different, and I believed it. Though it was my brain that needed to play catch up. I had thought one way for so long and now I expected it to change just like that? I knew it wasn't possible, I knew it needed time.
"Alright." I whispered softly. Harry beamed, seemingly fine with the fact that I couldn't yet tell him the same. "Thank you," He said slowly.
"Since they're going to be on the smaller scale we could talk about the design and all that when you come in for your first session. I could draw them up for you before we start and go from there?" I offered, seeing as it wasn't going to be a huge piece I would need to plan for. The smaller tattoos were my favourite, the daintiness of them, the way they could be drawn up within a single minute yet still mean so much.
Harry raked a hand back through his now completely dried hair, "Sounds fucking perfect. Seriously, thank you for this." He leant forward again, the feeling of our consultation ending slowly looming over us. "It's all good. I'm happy to help." I shrugged, leaving out the fact that I was really fucking nervous.
I began placing the lids back on each container, propping them into the bag and tying a knot once again. I cleared the space before us, stacking our plates and cutlery, putting them to the side to be thrown out later. Once that was done, I leant back on my chair, finally facing Harry as he continued to watch me.
His nose crinkled for a second before he said, "Eli seems nice."
My head shook on its own, almost like instinct about where I knew this could go if I wasn't careful. "Uh uh, no, let's not do this." I sighed.
"Why not?" He tried, propping his chin in his hand and leaning to one side.
"Because I don't do this with anyone, so I'm definitely not going to do this with you." I stated like it was already obvious.
Staring too longingly at Harry, I noticed the tip of his nose moved as he talked. I wanted to tell him that it was cute, though I also didn't want to give him that satisfaction. It would be a slow process, I figured.
"I used to know you like that." He stated confidently. My eyes widened, "I know you did." Harry scratched the side of his jaw for a second before humming, "I hope he's treating you good. More than good, you know what I mean." His arms crossed over his chest and if I wasn't mistaken by the energy he was now slightly giving, I would almost say that he was jealous.
"He's treating me just fine," I exhaled, busying my hands with picking at the threads of my jeans, "Can we maybe not talk about this?"
The room went quiet again, apart from the light music still playing through the speakers. Harry peered down at the desk. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.
"Is he your boyfriend?" He stretched the words out slowly as if he wasn't ready for them to be said in full, as if he wasn't ready for an answer just yet.
I sat awkwardly and stiffly and I could tell Harry was trying to read my expression without me having to say the words. "No, he's not my boyfriend." I muttered.
Harry's look stayed the same. No relieved expression, no hint of a smile. He probably realised deep down that the label didn't matter. Him and I had once been so close and without a title to state what we were. He could have been thinking something good, or he could have been thinking something bad, and for now I was going to let him.
"Also, you don't have to come tomorrow night if you don't feel comfortable. I understand that it was a sudden thing, that Eli asked you. I'm not quite sure what that whole thing was out there so, if it made you feel a bit uneasy, I'm sorry for that."
"Are you apologising for him?" Harry questioned.
I scrunched my nose, "No. Maybe. I'm not sure. I just, I know it's not the same as it was. Your relationship with the band. You. Your letters help me see that. I just don't want you to be feeling uncomfortable."
"I'd tell you if I was feeling uncomfortable. That's not something you should have to worry about. Okay?"
"Okay." I nodded.
Another round of quietness amongst us. Lots of thoughts. Lots of thinking. It stretched longer now, allocating a bit more time for us to revel in it. Though it was all the more welcome, none of it made things feel weird or uncertain. It was needed. It felt right.
The light blue vibrancy of the lava lamp sitting propped in the corner of the room glowed welcomely upon Harry's skin. I could tell he was thinking deeply even before he spoke, as if he had come to terms with his words long ago. "You were made for beautiful things, Mae." He said.
"What is that meant to mean?" The natural shine of his skin made the high point of his cheekbone glisten, the one facing the lamp. If it were possible I would have been certain that he wasn't real. The way he was lit up by blue lights and dreamily telling me these things so easily.
He grinned, like I already knew. "Whatever you need it to mean."
I shook my head as I laughed, playfully huffing and pushing up from the chair, "You don't make any sense, you know that?" Harry moved along with me, standing up from his own seat and pushing it back in.
I approached the closed door, holding it by the handle before swiftly turning back around. Harry stood tall, much taller than my height, and I peered up at him as he stood before me. We were an appropriate length apart. He wasn't too close, he wasn't too far. But he felt close, to me, he felt right there with me. And it was nice to realise that he actually was.
"Mm, maybe." He pondered, "But you make all the sense in the world."
I was gazing up at him like he could ask anything of me and I would blindly follow. I wouldn't, obviously. But it really felt like I could.
He looked comfy, all wrapped up in soft materials that kept him warm. He looked huggable, like his arms would provide the safest of places. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his slacks and he peered so deeply into my eyes I wondered what he saw. "I love you," He said firmly, "And I won't stop reminding you that I do."
My lips formed into a sad little smile. Mournful of the old Mae and how that was something she'd once needed to hear. Appreciative of the new Mae because that was something she'd also needed to hear.
Taking his hands out from his pockets, he used his index fingers to draw an invisible heart made purely of air, once he'd reached the bottom point of the heart, he then pointed his fingers forward.
"See you when I see you." Harry smiled, voice rough but warming between us.
I stepped aside from the door and pulled the handle back properly this time, light shining through from the rest of the shop. "See you when I see you." I grinned back. And Harry bid me one last glance of the night before he walked forward and found his way out into the icy night time air.
Sighing, I turned back into the office and focused my attention on the time ticking away on the wall.
It was eight o'clock on a random Friday night and I had just realised that I, surprisingly, truthfully, wanted to spend my alone time with Harry too.
We had walked through different dimensions of life for a while, but we'd still managed to arrive just in time, in the very same, very right one.