ONLY THE EPILOGUE TO GO! SHIT.
98.
●•Scarlett•●
“No, Gemma. For the thousandth time today: I cannot go to this damn dinner of yours. ‘M rather busy tonight, sorry,” he complained against the phone pressed between his ear and shoulder, whilst his eyes scanned over the papers on his hand. “Don’t care what you have to say. The speech is for him anyway.” There’s a brief pause during which he stood still on one of the steps, considering. Then: “Yeah. Fine. But in my flat, okay? I’ll buy a cake or something.”
His voice was the only one echoing in the empty street air; all the students gone for over an hour now. The movement of the cars had considerably ceased, too, and there weren’t many parked by the curb. Indeed, there were only two: one right in front of the university entry (which I assumed was his, but I could always be wrong), and the other across the street, just behind me, supporting my weight as I watched in silence.
He fumbled with his own limbs to keep a folder balanced underneath his arm, the papers firm in his hand, fighting the wind, and a phone safely tuck in its actual position. At a certain point, he tried to use one of his hands to reach for whatever it was inside his pocket, but ended up succeeding only when all the rest had gone to the floor. Cursing under his breath and nodding at what Gemma was saying, he bent down, managing somehow to make the arm of the guitar on his back (at least the case had a shape pretty much alike a guitar’s) hit his head.
I only pressed my lips together and dug my fingers deeper into the skin where they were tangled over my chest to keep myself from laughing, or moving closer to offer help. Because I was not sure I was ready yet, and the scene was simply endearing. But then, he himself had always been endearing.
The five-year-gap had only accentuated that, if anything, and I was still star struck by how much and yet how little he’d changed. His legs were wrapped by tight black jeans (not as tight as I recalled, though), a white v-neck T-shirt hidden underneath an also black leather jacket and a red scarf. His curls were longer, I assumed, but I couldn’t tell much by the way only its ends poked out of the black hat he had over his head.
His face was clearly shaved, the image of his knit eyebrows just as adorable as the one I had kept in mind. He seemed angry, hurried and confused all at once, his fingers fighting to grasp every sheet that threatened to escape with the wind, piling them all together and struggling even more to find the correct divider in his folder for them.
It took him about two full minutes to gather all of his stuff, but once it was done, he quickly cleared the dirt out of his clothes and stood up, actually holding his phone this time. And it was only when he started to walk down the stairs again that he saw me. And he froze.
The following seconds were awkward, to say the least.
Whatever he was talking to his sister faded up, his movements all halted. I couldn’t find the strength to move myself, having his gaze so intent on me after what seemed decades (or half of one, whatever). Cautiously, though, I dared a weak smile, not even trying to wave. I would probably end up slapping myself if I tried such a thing.
This had been such a bad idea. What was I even thinking? Maybe it wasn’t too late to turn around and get back into the car.
Except it was.
“Right- right, Gem. Gem? I gotta go now. See you two tomorrow, ‘kay? Tell Willy I said happy birthday,” he blinked a couple times more, still staring at me like a statue, the air growing thicker between us. “Love you too. Bye.”
There was a bit more of awkwardly staring, then, but just when I was about to actually leave, he cleared his throat, forcing himself forwards, and before I could actually establish a connection between body-brain, I was moving, too. At that moment, everything felt terribly fragile, and I was scared he might have wanted to kill me.
“Please tell me you’re not whom I think you are,” he mumbled silently when we were close enough, his hands stocked in his pockets as he visibly tried to keep some distance.
Definitely a terrible idea, Scarlett.
“Well, I’m not queen Elizabeth, if that’s what you had in mind.” Even to my own ears, my voice was pathetic. But he was in front of me now, and it would be just stupidity to turn on my heels and leave without saying half of the things I had planned.
After so long, if I actually left right now, it would only make everything worse.
“Oh God,” he breathed out, and I was not sure if it was relief or despair that filled his words. “You’re actually here.”
“I suppose so, yeah.” One more awkward pause because why not. “Hi.”
He blinked slowly, breathing in an out just at the same pace. And, honestly, it shouldn’t be as scaring as it was. In the worst of all hypotheses, he would ask me to go and f–ck myself, leave him alone and never, ever try to look for him again. It was not a pleasant idea, but it was something I would manage to deal with.
“What are you doing here? I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
I smiled at him once more, not a full-force, but at least a decent one. I hoped. “Neither did I.”
Harry snorted, finally looking away from me and toward the trees. “You show up in front of my workplace, during my lunch time, and you’re telling me you didn’t expect to see me again?” he laughed despite himself, and it was not amused. “Really? You’re gonna go and tell me it was pure destiny, then?”
I took a deep breath, trying to remain unaffected by his words. “You’ve always been the one to believe in destiny; not me.” He shook his head, his eyes shutting for more seconds than a simple blink would take. “Not a coincidence, though. I did come here for you. I just didn’t ever think I would gather the strength to do so.”
He took a step back, sighing. “You didn’t have to bother.”
“I just want to talk.”
“Talk about what, Scarlett? Everything there was to talk was said five years ago. It’s there now, let’s not bring it back, please,” he begged, his eyes pleading. There was no reason for it, though. It was not my intention to go there again, anyway. “Do you have any idea of how many times I’ve seen you without actually seeing you? Or how long it took me to get over all of that? I was anxious about the day you’d show up here at first, but then I started dreading the idea. And here you are.”
“Believe me. I do know. And I swear I don’t want to make any harm, Harry. If you want me so badly to leave, I’ll go. Just say the word.” Don’t say it, I screamed inside, but there was also a part of me that would be completely relieved if I could just walk away and pretend I hadn’t done this at all.
“I gotta have lunch. Only have about forty minutes,” he stated dryly, glancing at his wristwatch.
“Fine. I’m leaving. Sorry for wasting your time.” I turned around, exhaling heavily and trying not to trip over my own feet as I walked back to the car, but then there was another sigh behind my back, and, soon, there was his voice too.
“I’m actually inviting you to join me.”
“So?” he prompted as soon as the waiter walked away with our orders, his eyes and hands busy with his papers next to him on the booth. There wasn’t a moment we’d spent in one another’s company so far which hadn’t been extremely odd.
“How’ve you been?” I opted for casual, not knowing anymore what I had to say.
Harry arched a brow before he looked at me under his lashes, just then putting everything aside and tangling his fingers over the table. “Fine. Busy, a bit stressed, if you might. Happy, though. You?”
His response was even more evasive than I expected, his words holding a harsh, cold tone that made me shrink slightly. But after all, I couldn’t blame him for hating me so immensely.
“Fine. Busy, too, and a lot stressed,” I murmured against my glass of water, choosing not to look Harry in the eyes again.
“Not happy?” he suggested, sipping his own soda and glancing at me over the rim of the glass.
I shrugged. “Only been really happy with you.”
Harry choked on his drink, nearly spitting it all out. Through his nose (if it’s even possible to spit through a nose). Instead, he grabbed a napkin and placed it over his mouth, coughing repeatedly until he was stable again, glaring at me.
“That was inappropriate.”
“It was true.”
“Whatever you say,” he commented, checking his phone screen. Everything was so heavy; my stomach was churning, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t hunger. “So… How’re Lana and Angel? Haven’t talked to them in a while.”
I smiled instantly, biting at my inner cheek to look as less stupid as possible. “They’re great. Still living in the same house, Lana’s still at the hospital, is now seeing a doctor even though she denies everything. Poor woman thinks her daughter is oblivious. Honestly. When has Angel ever been oblivious to anything?”
Harry laughed, truly this time; fond. His dimple finally showed, a bit, but it was soon gone. I cleared my throat.
“Angel’s got a boyfriend, too. Such a sweet guy, you wouldn’t believe it. They’re both preparing for medical school a few years ahead, studying like crazy to get good grades on courses whilst keeping focused on school,” Harry gaped a bit, seeming impressed. “Never seen two people more committed than them.”
“She’s 15, right?”
“Sixteen,” I corrected, sipping my water again. “The guy’s eighteen though. Lana’s a bit worried about that, don’t see why.”
“I do,” Harry grimaced, scrunching up his nose. “You know men.”
I only rolled my eyes. “She’s smart, Harry. And she’s had an awesome example of what not to do in life ever since she was four; so don’t worry.” He shrugged, not at all disagreeing. When he was about to say something else, our food arrived, and it was silent until the waiter walked away again. I sighed. “She misses you. Terribly. We all do.”
He snorted discretely. “Sure do. What about Zach? How’s he doing?” he changed subjects, staring down at his plate in way more concentration than the necessary.
“Took over his dad’s business, gave up on the gym. The man is getting old and the diseases are starting to show, he can’t really work anymore.”
“What a shame,” he sighed, still decidedly not looking at me. “Tyler, then?”
“Died,” I said simply, and this time Harry choked around a forkful of rice.
“Oh. Right,” his tone was not happy, by no means satisfied, but it was knowing. It had that bit of smugness and sarcasm that straight away hit me like a train on the chest.
“Don’t ‘oh’ me, Harry. It’s not why I’m here. Tyler’s death has nothing to do with the decision I’ve made to come after you, alright?”
He only arched one eyebrow and continued to chew angrily. “I said absolutely nothing, Scarlett. You were the one to assume such thing. Guilt, huh?” the smile on his face was nothing but pissing me off, really.
“You were implying it, and don’t pretend you weren’t.” Feeling anger twisting my guts already, I forced deep breaths, closing my eyes for a moment so I could calm down and not start arguing with him today. He had all the right to hate me, and one thing I didn’t come here for was to give him even more reasons to do it. “He died the day after our breakup, actually,” the last sentence was a mere whisper.
Harry still heard it.
He didn’t choke, but it was a near thing, and I was starting to worry about this whole meet-up. If things kept going the way they were, I would kill him asphyxiated within the next half hour.
“Sorry?” he managed, eyes teary with the lack of air.
“He passed away the day after you reached your limit. Was a bit of a traumatizing week for me, if you ask me.”
Harry took several gulps of soda after that, seeming to think about something to say.
“You didn’t come after me later,” he stated in some sort of haze, finally looking at me as if he couldn’t understand what was going through my mind.
I only smiled, shaking my head. “I didn’t.”
He sort of smiled, too, and this time around it wasn’t bitter nor sarcastic, just a relieved one. Kinda. I watched as he looked down at his plate again, that sheepish grin temporarily permanent to his lips as he went for another forkful of food. It was stupid how that shy smile still had the same effect it had on me years ago, but I was not surprised.
I finally shook off the trance I was in, straightening my back and starting to eat, too.
“So. A teacher, huh?” I offered, having to hold myself back as his smile only grew wider.
“Yeah,” he agreed proudly. “A few rebel students here and there, but most of them seem to like me. Or at least, they pretend.”
I shook my head seriously, finally getting used to the green of his irises again. “They’re not. Trust me.”
“Thank you,” he breathed out, seeming to get used to my stare, too.
“No problem. Any news, besides that one?” I questioned, playing with the napkin over the table, and then, very subtly, adding: “Recent romances?” because, why not.
Harry chuckled to himself, arching another eyebrow at me. “Recent? Guess you can say that. Current? I’m afraid no,” he feigned a sigh (and he made sure I noticed it was fake) before saying the following words. “The last one ended up a while ago. Was the longest one I’d had ever since I moved out, which lasted about three months.”
“I’m sorry for that.” I really wasn’t.
“Nah,” he dismissed me with a wave, not even bothering to look up. “I was sure it wasn’t going far anyway the moment it started. She wasn’t exactly the type I saw myself getting older with.”
I frowned at him, genuinely confused. “Why’d you even try, then?”
“Dunno,” he sounded about as certain as I did – which was not one bit –, and shrugged. “She liked me and I liked her, so it didn’t seem a bad idea. Wouldn’t hurt if we just tried.” He quickly put his fork down, wiping at the corners of his mouth with the napkin before turning to me. “Enough about me. Tell me about you. Any new boyfriends? Still working at the-?”
I laughed under my breath. “No. I quit and started working as a housekeeper to afford uni. Now, not to go the same way Leroy did, I opted for lawyer rather than officer. Don’t think they’d take me too seriously, anyway,” I reasoned, leading the fork to my mouth and watching as Harry’s expression turned to amused again.
“They would. I’m sure.”
“Well, what’s done is done.” He smiled. I leaded the fork to my mouth again before continuing. “Boyfriends? Not a single one. Haven’t had the time nor the need to find someone else, I suppose. Working and studying wasn’t as easy as it seemed to be at first. Honestly don’t know how you did it. Or how I did it.”
Hey laughed again, nodding. “Neither do I. How I did it, I mean,” he rushed to correct, thinking that maybe he’d offended me. “’M glad you did it, though. The feeling of finishing what you’ve always had the desire to start is just refreshing, innit?”
“Definitely,” I agreed, smiling. “Was a hell of a headache but it was worth it.”
“Sure thing. So… Lawyer? Wow. You done with the studies yet or-?”
“Yes,” I nodded, pushing my empty plate away. “Actually, I’ve got a trial to attend in two hours. ‘M not the main lawyer yet, but. I’ll get there, hopefully.”
The look in Harry’s eyes was one of admiration, and I had to seriously hold my breath not to explode with the contentment that filled my chest. He weakly smiled, and the feeling got a bit worse, but maybe it was bearable.
“This is a thing, then? New York and everything?”
I only nodded again, silent. He stared at me a while longer, digesting the information and thinking God-knows-what. For the next fifteen seconds or so, none of us shared a word, just glances, instead, and I was about to break the silence when he did it himself.
“Can I ask you something?”
I replied with an affirmative movement of my head instead of words.
“How’d you know where to find me?”
I chuckled to myself, drumming my fingers on the table. “That was the easiest bit. Asked Mark.”
Harry’s eyes widened, just before he frowned in sheer confusion, opening and closing his mouth a few times before the words finally came out. “You talk to him?”
I smiled softly. “All of them, actually. Even Charlie, recently, since I’ve found out she’s intimate friends with another friend of mine. Seems like your mum even forgave her for starting a relationship that didn’t include her baby boy,” I joked, and Harry grimaced. “They didn’t tell you anything because I’m sort of a taboo to you, apparently.”
Harry looked away, briefly, before clearing his throat and standing up, his things already in his hands. “Anyway, I really gotta go now. Wish you luck with your job and all. It was a surprise seeing you after so long.”
I was about to reply, ask him for his number – and if he said no, then, well, I’d move on or whatever. But then he was smiling, winking and throwing enough money on the table to pay for the whole meal, and I couldn’t even protest because when I looked up again he was far gone through the door.
There was a moment I managed to mutter a “Will I be seeing you around, then?”, but I highly doubted he’d heard it.
●•Author's Note•●
note: 1. They met again! What did you think of that? What did you think of everything in general, about everyone? Awwww, I can't believe there's only the epilogue left. OOOH, and by the way. I'm gonna write it from both POV's: Harry's and Scarlett's. I'm so happy I FINALLY concluded a story I consider decent, at the very least, but at the same time I'm so sad it's ending. Ugh. No depression just yet. I still have one more chapter to go and I will be the cheesiest prick then. Seeeeee youuuuu.
Ps.: follow me on twitter & instagram: @DaniMeloGomes
dedication goes to: @harrysnog thank you so much! I'm so, so happy you like my writing that much. And yeah, I see where you're coming from. I hate when Harry's just too bad. Again, thanks for understanding that not all stories have happy endings, let's just see if what you think is right, huh? There's still one more chapter to go. And I try to portrait Gemma as annoying as a sibling and still caring as possible. Because, really, that's how I picture her relationship with Harry to be in real life. They're so stupid and yet gentle. idk. Oooooh, we're surname buddies. Sort of. That must be a sign.
next update: Friday (February 21st)
Reach 1000 votes for early update. Best comment gets a dedication. Love you all lots, Dani xx