Like Real People Do - Hozier
Never Stop - Safetysuit
Elaine's POV
After Harry says 'Hello', his expression completely falls. All of his movements stop as he stares out in one, stagnant direction. He looks completely shocked, angry even. My mind tries to rationalize why he's looking so serious all of a sudden but there's no explanation that comes to my head.
I want to ask who it was, but I'm regardful of how Harry's mood has suddenly shifted. Now's not the time.
"Hold on a minute," he assertively replies, his voice devoid of any emotion. It throws me off a bit, hearing how cold and morbid Harry's voice could potentially get. I hope he never talks to me that way. His jaw tenses as he flashes me a look. "I'll be right back. Stay here with Barbara," he says, his voice quieter and softer towards me.
All I can do is nod. I watch his back as he becomes smaller and smaller through the hallway. He exits the back door of the small bakery and takes a turn to the left, disappearing behind the wall.
Who could possibly call Harry and cause him to turn so .. unlike him?
"Did you finish your planes? — Where's Harry?" Barbara asks before I can answer her first question. I turn my head towards her. She's carrying two paper bags that's half of her size in her arms. I leave the paper airplanes on the counter as I run to help her with both of them before she topples over. In many ways, she reminds me of Betsy. They're both around the same age, fragile looking but so strong willed.
"He had to take a phone call. Where do you want these, Barbara?"
"Over there is fine, dear," She points to the table, letting me know where to set them. What is in these bags? They're heavier than I anticipated.
"Must be very important if he let a call interrupt a date."
A date? The word almost causes me to drop the bags from my arms along the way to the table. Once I place the them down, I look her way. She's standing behind the counter, her back facing me as she gazes at the menu up above.
"We're not on a date," I say, a reluctant smile pulling at my lips as she motions around to face me. "Just a normal Sunday afternoon."
"Look at you still denying it," Barbara says mischievously. "I might be old, but I'm not foolish."
"I'm not trying to," I politely tell her, hoping she wasn't offended. "Harry didn't even mention the word to me so I'm not exactly sure if it is or not."
This isn't a date .. I can't even remember the last time I've been on an actual date. This can't be a date .. Is it? It's not like Harry asked me formally or anything.
But if this is a date, the small act of bringing me to his favorite place, and his old workplace for our first official date is surprisingly .. okay with me. I'm not the slightest disappointed that our first date isn't fancy or grand.
Even though normal people think that going on dates is a harmless thing, I think it's true opposite. I used to detest going on dates. Even when I was with Kai. It just reminded me that I was in this relationship. That I was with someone who I sincerely cared about. That I was committed to someone who could essentially leave me.
But the thought of Harry, just the simple thought of Harry and I being on our first date doesn't even bother me as much as it would.
Maybe it's because I know that he cares about me too. Because I know he's a committed, genuinely good person. But mostly, because he came back to me when no one else did.
"Harry may be confusing at times," Barbara finally says, her tone caring, just like Anne's. "But when you're in love, sometimes you do things that don't make any sense."
"Love?" The simple mention of the word frightens me, and I'm slightly mad at myself for it. I no longer want to carry around this absurd fear of the word.
"He didn't tell you who it was?" She asks, and I assume she must have not heard me say the word. I shake my head from side to side. "I wonder who it could be then," she pouts her bottom lip.
"Me too," I say, reimagining Harry's fallen face in my head. "He looked really annoyed for some reason."
"That's not like him though," her face fills with consternation and I agree, knowing how unusually quickly his mood changed. "Oh..."
Oh what? Does she know something?
"I think I might know who it was," she doesn't sound too thrilled figuring who it might have been. And for some reason, I'm nervous to hear the answer.
"Who?" I prod.
Barbara emits a doubtful look before she removes herself from behind the counter to sit in one of the nearest wooden chairs. I remain standing, keeping my gaze fixed on her, waiting to hear the answer.
"It might have been his father."
Father?
Robin? Or Des?
It only makes sense if it is Des. But we certainly don't know if it really is him. It's a stab in the dark.
"Des?" I ask for reassurance. Barbara finally makes eye contact with me, not confirming nor denying my question. Her gaze hints a faint sadness, maybe even regret. She stands to her feet, her head falling as she reaches for one of my hands. Her calloused hands are warm, comforting even as both of her hands wrap around mine.
"I know we've only just met each other. And maybe it's not Anne's place to say it, but I beg of you, as someone who is like a second mother to Harry, being with him is going to be really hard."
"I know." I try to lighten the serious mood with a smile. Why do people keep doing this to me?
Alice did. Now Barbara. I guess they really care about Harry and whoever he chooses to be with. It kind of offends me that they don't have any faith in me. That they don't have any faith in our relationship.
Is it unfair that I'm feeling this way?
Maybe...
"Harder than any other relationship you've ever had." She gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
"I'm not going to leave Harry. But what does this have to with Des?" I ask, completely lost in the conversation. Why is she suddenly talking about this?
"Des .. is a man of many troubles," she explains in a mournful tone. "He calls Harry whenever he's in some sort of dilemma. Whether it be financial or with the law, Harry is always the one to save him. Do you not know this Elaine?"
I shake my head slowly. I don't know a thing about Harry's father. I don't know a thing about Harry's life behind closed doors. He's never once told me the troubles his dad has put him through or what his life was like .. I think back to when I assumed Harry didn't tell me personal things about himself because he didn't trust me, or he didn't feel the need to since he didn't consider us a long-term thing. But he came back .. so every bit of that assumption has left me.
"I know I called Harry stubborn earlier, but he's not when it comes to his family. But I don't know how Harry is not tired of it yet. Even if he is, he'll never show it," she sighs. "Rumor has it, he did something really awful this time."
I know now. The source of Harry's "unhappiness". It is his dad. That's why Harry rarely ever comes home.
He's worried about his dad's well-being and maybe disappointed with his life choices. From the lifestyle of a popstar to the realities of life at home, there's a lot weighing on his shoulders. He has a right to feel that way. I just wish he wouldn't carry the weight of the world on it.
"I want you to recognize that whatever is a burden for Harry, is a burden for you too," Barbara says, her brown eyes raising to meet mine.
"I know," I say thoughtfully, trying to assure her. "Thank you for worrying about us, but I am confident that I will be able to take care of him. As long as he wants me by his side, I'm never going to leave." She gives my hand another gentle squeeze before she looks behind me, a small smile pulling at her lips as they settle upon an object.
"You ready to hang up those planes?" She asks. I turn around and frown at the two mini airplanes I folded so horribly on the counter. It's been years since I've folded one, but it doesn't matter to me what it looks like on the outside. The inside is the part that counts.
Once I finish hanging the second one, Barbara nods approvingly. They look very different from the others, but at least they're distinguishable from the rest. The next time we come here, I'll most definitely be able to recognize mine immediately. As I step down from the step stool, a deep voice greets us.
"You could have let me refolded them for you," he teases. His eyes are already fixed on me as I meet them. His smile widens, and I roll my eyes. I'm so glad he's no longer in the stoic state he was in when he left earlier.
He walks a few paces forward, and I notice that he's carrying a black bag in his hand. I hold my breath as one of his arms circle behind my neck, pulling me into his arms
"I never thought it'd be so good to see you," he breathes into my hair.
"You saw me literally two minutes ago," I giggle.
"Did you miss me?"
"Did you?"
"You can never answer a question properly, can you?" He brings his head back just enough to look at my face. When our eyes meet, I playfully shake my head and he chuckles. It's such a lovely sound - Harry's laugh. The mere sound igniting a warmth in my stomach.
I want to ask who was on the phone but I decide not to, afraid that it might be too soon. I don't want to ruin the high spirit he's in just yet.
"Did you eat already?" He asks, and I shake my head.
"Barbara prepared a little snack."
After we enjoy our brunch, we say our goodbyes to Barbara outside where Harry parked his motorcycle. The sun is still high in the sky and the temperature has definitely risen. I try not to watch or eavesdrop on Harry and Barbara's conversation as I put my helmet back on. From the corner of my eye, I see them hug as Barbara whispers something into Harry's ear. I see him nod slightly once as he watches her return inside. She waves goodbye to me once again and I do the same.
Harry runs a hand swiftly through his hair after he jogs back to me. I don't know if I should be appalled at myself for finding it a turn-on just seeing him jog.
"May you do me the honor of holding this for me, Bubble Wrap?" He hands me the mysterious black bag like a gentleman and I take it, shaking my head at how quickly he can be undeniably irresistible one minute then adorable the next. I'm quite surprised at how heavy the bag actually is when he lets go. "No peeking, Bubble Wrap," he warns me with an indulging grin, and I find myself rolling my eyes at him again.
He mounts onto the bike with ease and I follow, wrapping my arms around his waist with less qualm this time. My hands meet right at the middle of his stomach, gripping onto each other as Harry weaves us through the back streets of Cheshire.
Vast lands of nothing but grass and trees align the horizon as we speed down a foreign road. Although I'm not sure if this is the way we came from since my sense of direction in an unfamiliar place is basically nonexistent, I trust Harry to guide us back in one piece.
I close my eyes and slowly rest the side of my head onto Harry's back in attempt to forget that the rest of the world exists. I just want to forget everything for a moment - every memory, every person, everything and start anew. How I wish it was that easy to settle in another place far away.
But I guess it doesn't matter where I am. As long as I'm with Harry, I think I'll be okay wherever I am.
And as if on cue, one of Harry's hands releases from the clutch and smoothes over both of mine, slowly rubbing back and forth on the back of my hand until he breaks through them, tightly lacing our fingers together. I let out a quiet, enduring breath, clearing my mind so that there's nothing left but Harry's scent.
...
"Wow," I gape in awe as I take in the surrounding. "Where are we?" I ask Harry as I try to digest the gorgeous scene before me. It's nothing but mowed down field of green grass and little white flowers for miles and miles on end. As I scan the area, there's a large plane to the west.
"Outskirts of town," Harry replies. Even though I'm not looking directly at him, I can feel his intentional gaze watching me carefully, trying to read every ounce of my reaction. "Go on. I know you want to."
I look at him daringly as I don't waste another second in stepping off the side of the road and into the field. My footsteps come to a gradual half once I've walked a few strides away from where I began. I draw in a long breath of fresh air, relishing in the purity of this empty, untouched place.
I hear some faint footsteps approach me, and I turn around to find Harry holding a camera in front of his face. And it's not just any camera. It's a vintage one - a Contax 645 to be exact. As soon as he presses the capture button, a subtle click follows.
I run to his side, practically drooling over the beautifully crafted artifact. How did Harry get a hold of this? It's one of the rarest vintage cameras out there - finding one is like finding the Loch Ness monster or finding a unicorn.
"How do you even have one of these?" I mean, I shouldn't really be surprised. He was filthy rich.
"It's for you," he says ever so calmly. I gape at him, stupefied at his words. It's for me?
"Shut up."
"I'm serious," He smiles proudly, extending his arm out, exposing the expensive camera at my disposal.
"Why?"
"Do I need a reason to give you a gift?"
"Yes."
"Well, unfortunately for you, I don't have one. You're just going to have to live with it," he grabs one of my hands, placing the camera into it before I can further protest.
How can he just ... give something so expensive to me. I mean, he is rich, but that's not the point. The point is .. The point is .. I don't even know what the point is, I'm still dumbfounded just by looking at this camera. It holds so much value but that's not why I'm touched. I'm touched because nobody's ever given me a gift without the expectation of getting something in return. And I, myself, have never given anyone a gift without reason.
"I know why you did what you did," I say, thinking it's time to confront him.
"What'd I do?" He asks, not even phased, still wearing a cheeky, satisfied grin.
"Alice told me everything. The contract," I start. "How you even came up with something so, sorry, but stupid just so that you can see me again, I'll never know." I'm surprised when he grants me with a laugh. "And I think it's very nice of you to think about my future plans for me, but I can't simply be a photographer just because I want to."
"Well I have a few connections," he states plainly. "I can help you find a job whether it be back in the States .. or here," he adds the last part nervously.
"You're so thoughtful, Harry. And for that, I'm forever grateful. But right now, we don't have to worry about that. Let's just take it one step at a time," I say, glancing down at the item in my hand. "And as the first step, I'll accept this with all the gratitude that I have. Okay? Baby steps."
I can tell he's a little disappointed that I'm not being accepting of his help. But if Harry keeps this going, I'm only going to get greedier. I'm already selfish as it is. I don't want to be anymore selfish in this relationship than I am.
"Okay," he compensates with a grin. "Baby steps," he repeats.
"Thank you."
Harry endearingly pinches one of my cheeks and I scrunch my nose, trying to act disapproving of his gesture. A content smile creeps onto my lips as I feel his hand slide behind my neck. He slowly draws me forward, his hands lowering my head. I close my eyes, bracing myself for the impact of his lips on my skin.
After what feels like an eternity, I feel the small, soft brush of his lips on my forehead, the simple gesture enough for me to forget all about my irrational fear of falling, quite possibly, in love.
A/n: <3 good night loves! Can't wait for you to see what's gonna come. It's far from over, darlings xx...