"God, yeh smell so good." Harry nudged the door shut with his toe and gripped an edge of Melody's towel. She clung to the fabric, pressing it to her chest.
"Harry," she warned, though there wasn't a note of authority in her voice. Her skin was already tingling where his fingertips brushed her thigh.
"Mel," he retorted in a flat voice. He took a step forward, until she could feel his body heat radiating through the back of her towel. And before she could escape his grip, there were lips grazing her shoulder, a hand folding her wet hair away from her neck. Harry inhaled the scent of her soap and grasped her hip, pulling her against him.
In the past few weeks, since Harry had developed enough strength in his legs to take the lead in bed, he'd been relentless. And this week he'd forgone his cane completely. He still wasn't satisfied with where he was at, but it was enough for Melody, especially when her rib made it nearly impossible for her to do much more than lay there. And she was having trouble denying his requests for "physical therapy."
"Harry," she repeated as his mouth worked its way up the side of her neck. His hand slipped through the gap in her towel and pressed to the bottom of her belly. She was already thinking about the way he'd felt last night, when he'd had to take it slow because Bea was in the living room. Slow didn't mean gentle, he'd reminded her. Her thighs still ached.
"We don't have time."
"We could just stay here," he mumbled against her ear. She shivered. "Let me fuck yeh into next year."
"No," she whispered, though it was weary. Her fingers were growing loose around her towel. "No, I—"
"Just say your rib's hurtin' yeh too bad, yeah?"
"Harry," she whined, and it was a testament to her willpower that she was able to pull away from him. Her heart was hammering wildly against her tender ribcage. "Later. Please." She took a breath just deep enough that it wouldn't bother her injury as she turned around. "Please," she repeated.
Harry looked put out. He tipped his head back and sighed, then nodded. "Yeah, later. Sure."
"I'm sorry," she told him.
"Mel, shut up," he said with a chuckle.
She smiled and took a step closer to him, rising onto her toes to deliver a slow kiss to his lips. He groaned into her mouth and hooked an arm around her waist.
"Is it later already?"
She laughed, slipping out of his hold with a final peck. "Not even close."
"Fine. Can yeh put some clothes on, then? Before I change my mind." There was a smirk on his lips, but the words sounded distinctly threatening. Melody wasn't taking any chances. She slipped around him and began to rifle through the closet without another word.
***
In the years that he'd lived in this city, Harry had never seen Brute's so full. The bar was so packed with people that they were overflowing into the street, dancing near the entrance to the warehouse despite the cold December weather.
"Of all the places to spend New Year's Eve," Harry muttered beneath his breath.
"Josie is working," Melody reminded him from where she clung to his arm.
Harry rolled his eyes, facing away from her so that she wouldn't see. Bea might have begun to grow on him, but Josie had not. And he still didn't like Bea enough to spend a holiday at Brute's just so she could be near her girlfriend.
Any other bar would have been crawling with cops if there were this many people drinking out in the street. But this area was safe from their slimy hands thanks to Goodman. Which also meant that anything could happen tonight and the police wouldn't be there to help. Harry was surprised to realize that after everything they'd done to him, to Melody, he found their lack of presence unsettling.
"I saw that," Bea whispered when Melody wasn't paying attention. Harry had almost forgotten she was walking with them.
"Saw what?"
She laughed. "You judge people very harshly before you get to know them."
"He does, doesn't he?" Melody interjected.
"Yeah, sure. Double team me."
"Oh," Bea said with a goofy giggle, "you wish, honey."
Melody grinned across Harry and then gave his arm a discreet squeeze. If Harry didn't know any better, he'd say that they were both already tipsy, but it was only the prospect of getting drunk that had the two girls happy and teasing. As far as he knew, Melody hadn't had a sip of alcohol since he'd moved in at the end of September. He wasn't sure whether that meant tonight would be fun or dangerous.
"Excuse me," Bea shouted over the music when they reached the door to the bar, though she wasn't nearly as polite when she began to shove people out of their way. Melody followed the path that Bea plowed and pulled Harry along behind her.
Harry could feel eyes on him. Not all of them, but a lot. People who had been going to fights since before he'd ended up in his coma, people who frequented Brute's. Many of them didn't seem to recognize him at first with his new haircut and thinner build, but there were a few double takes and then heads drawing together to talk about him like he couldn't see them. He could feel himself stiffening. This felt so foreign. He'd never been in Brute's with Melody like this, with her hanging off of him. The last time they'd been here together, he'd still been pretending to be completely disinterested in her.
"What's wrong?" Melody asked. Harry lowered his eyes to find her staring up at him. Her hand slid down his arm to intertwine their fingers.
"Nothin's wrong. Just feels weird."
"It does," she agreed. That was when he noticed that some of the eyes weren't just watching him, but also Melody. He remembered for the first time that these people probably knew her better than they knew him, that they were betting on her on Friday nights now. It almost made his skin crawl.
Melody, already in heels, stood on her toes. Her hair tickled Harry's chin as he tipped forward enough for her to speak into his ear. "Don't close up on me, please," she said. "I want to spend tonight with you. Have fun with me."
Harry's eyes wandered the bar behind her. Bea was leaning against the counter, but Josie was swamped with customers and the other bartender, who he'd never seen before, was actively avoiding her. Melody pressed her free hand to his chest, where the top few buttons of his shirt were popped, and her thumb stroked the skin over his heart. "Harry?" she prompted.
"Okay," he mumbled back to her. "Okay, love. 'M right here. 'M with yeh." He felt her grin stretch against his cheek.
"I would give you a kiss but I don't think you want my lipstick all over your face."
Harry grunted. Melody leaned forward just briefly until he felt her chest press against him, and then lowered back onto her heels. Her eyes glinted when she looked up at him. "Drinks?" she shouted. He nodded.
They slipped their way in beside Bea, who was still waiting for Josie to make her way over.
"Why are there so many girls here?" Harry asked as he peered around the place once more. This was not the typical crowd. Although you could find anyone at the matches, Brute's usually only drew in fighters, old men, and guys looking for trouble.
"When Melody convinced Goodman to do women's fights, she kind of brought in a whole new demographic," Bea answered. "This place is packed nine times out of ten."
When Melody convinced Goodman... That sent Harry for a loop. He'd been too unsettled by Melody boxing to learn about any of the logistics. He couldn't imagine her having an actual conversation with Goodman, let alone proposing a new business venture.
Harry was jostled by a group of guys that looked like they belonged in a fraternity. He caught Melody's hip before he slammed her into the bar top and glared at the group as it wandered across the room.
"Thank God!" Bea yelled when Josie finally stood in front of them. Melody tapped Harry's hand and he let go of her. "Who do I have to fuck to get a drink around here?"
"A kiss will work just fine, sweetheart."
Josie leaned over the bar top and Bea pressed their lips together, sneaking a hand around the back of her neck. Harry turned away. He felt like he was intruding. When he looked back, Josie was pouring out drinks for the three of them. She set a glass of whiskey down in front of him. He kept forgetting how many times she had served him drinks before he'd actually learned her name.
"We're way over capacity!" Josie yelled, gesturing wildly about the room. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and fanned the back of her neck. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. Go to a club or something."
Harry was all for that. However much clubs weren't his setting, any amount of space and air would be better than this sweaty room. Melody's hair was beginning to stick to her shoulders.
"No," she shouted back, "we'll stay! It's fine." She began to strip off her coat and Bea followed suit. Harry didn't take off his jacket until she nudged him, and Josie took the coats to hide them on the other side of the bar.
Josie grinned and leaned over to kiss Bea one more time before she ambled down the bar for the next awaiting customer. Melody lifted a mojito to her lips. Bea sipped something bright red. Harry pushed a hand through his hair. For the first time, he was glad that it didn't reach his shoulders. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to stand it in here if there were strands sticking to his neck like Melody's was to hers. He lifted his whiskey to take a swig, grateful for the extra ice cube that Josie had added.
"One of my film friends is supposed to be here," Bea said, taking another large gulp of her drink and then dabbing the excess from her lips. "I'm gonna go find her. I'll see you in a little bit. Stay safe!" she shouted. She kissed Melody on the cheek and then began to work her way through the crowd.
"Just you and me." Melody grinned up at Harry.
"Coulda just stayed home then, huh?"
She pouted. There it was again. That silly expression, like she was already feeling booze in her blood. He downed the rest of his drink as the man sitting on the stool closest to them shuffled out of view. Harry set his glass down and ushered Melody onto the seat.
"What if I wanted to dance?" she asked as she settled back on the stool.
"Tha's what I was afraid of."
"Why? You don't wanna dance with me?"
"Again," Harry reminded her, a smile on his lips despite himself, "I don' dance, love. And last time yeh pinned me against a wall, if I remember right."
Melody drained a large mouthful of her drink to stifle her laughter. She turned toward him and tugged him to stand between her legs, blocking anyone's view up the skirt of her dress.
"Were you mad about it?" she asked, so quietly that he almost didn't hear her over the din of the bar. Her fingers curled into his belt at his hip to keep him from backing away from her.
"Absolutely livid," he said.
"Oh, sorry." Melody finished her drink and set down her glass. She tucked some hair behind her ear. "Give me another chance?"
"I don' dance. I do not like to dance, Mel."
Her eyes lit up with something mischievous and she opened her mouth, but someone else spoke before she could.
"Styles, right?"
Harry turned his head and found a man standing beside them, brows knitted together.
"Do I know you?"
"No, I just go to a lot of matches. Sorry to hear what happened to you, man, but I'm glad to see you on your feet. My friends and I can't wait to see you back in the ring."
Harry felt Melody's hand fall from his belt. He took a step backward, straightening up, and nodded. "Yeah, I can' wait to start fightin' again."
"All right, well I'll be front row at your first match. Fights are kinda boring without you." The man's eyes flickered to Melody and then widened. "Except for the women's. Those are always good."
Harry watched her give him a tight-lipped smile before the man wandered back into the hordes of people. Melody was silent and when Harry turned back to the bar he found that his whiskey had been refilled without him noticing. He took a drink. When he returned his attention to her, Melody was toying with the hem of her dress.
"Maybe Josie's not so bad," he said, sliding Melody's fresh mojito across the counter toward her.
"She's great."
Harry discreetly brought his hand to the outside of her knee, pressing it toward the other. She hadn't thought about the fact that Harry had backed up and left the view of her skirt open. He could feel eyes pressing on them from every direction, and though she looked incredible, Melody was one of the most recognizable and dressed up people in the bar. She crossed her ankles and spun around on her stool, away from his hand, to sip her drink.
"Did I do somethin'?" he asked after another quiet minute.
Melody sighed. "No. No, I just—" she turned toward him again and shook her head. "No, you didn't. I'm sorry."
"Wha's wrong, then?"
Her tongue swiped across the bright hue of her lipstick. "Will you kiss me?"
Harry frowned. "What, at midnight or right now?"
"Both."
Harry glanced around and seemed to understand. She wondered if he was comfortable enough to kiss her with this many people around, so many that might know him, or know of him. So many eyes. He wasn't, really. It felt like it went against every grain of the reputation he'd built here. But he wasn't about to disappoint Melody tonight, not when she looked like she did, when she'd made promises for later, when she seemed so optimistic for the coming year.
Harry grasped her jaw and leaned down, connecting their lips. Her lipstick was sweet, somehow. And when she opened her mouth her tongue tasted like mint.
"No," she whined against his lips when he began to pull away. Her fingers caught the buttons of his shirt.
"Yeh're fuckin' relentless when yeh get alcohol into your system," he mumbled. He gave her one more quick kiss and then pried her hand from him so he could step back. He licked his lips and still tasted the kiss. "Is it on me?"
"Just right here," she said, reaching up to rub her thumb over the corner of his mouth, removing a smudge of lipstick. Her eyes were shiny when she looked at him and he didn't know if it was happiness or just the mojitos. He could already feel his head buzzing, and he remembered that he himself hadn't touched whiskey in almost nine months.
"So, you're gonna come dance with me?"
Harry sputtered out a humorless laugh. He had made a point of not looking around after he'd kissed her, and now that he did he regretted it. There were more eyes on them than before, more women watching him and more familiar faces that he couldn't pair with names. He cleared his throat.
"Mel, there's not even room for dancin' in here."
"Sure there is. There's a dance floor right over there."
Harry turned in the direction that she was looking. He couldn't see the floor, but he did see a mass of bodies, sweaty and packed so tightly together they appeared indistinguishable from one another. Nothing but a mass of limbs.
"Are yeh serious?" He drained his second whiskey with a wince. "Yeh wanna get us trapped in that?"
"Is it really trapped if you're with me?" she asked with a goofy, wide grin. She was sliding off of her stool before he could answer her, tugging her skirt back into place. "Please, Harry? Humor me."
"Thought I already was."
Her lips turned into a frown. She used his hips to prop herself up and speak into his ear again. "I'll make it worth your while. I promise."
Harry sighed. She could be persuasive when she wanted to. "Should yeh even be dancin' with your rib?"
"I feel fine," she told him. He suspected she felt better after her drinks. Her fingers curled into his belt again and began to drag him away from the bar.
"Mel," he hissed, "if yeh make me do this I swear to God I will keep yeh up all night."
She grinned. Her teeth looked sharp and her fingers only tightened around his belt. "You need better threats."
Harry's mind raced with thoughts of later and before he knew it, they were bumping into the bodies on the dance floor. He caught Melody's hip to keep her from backing right into the chest of some lone creep in the middle of the crowd. She mistook his hand for an invitation and pressed herself against him, hands on his waist. Even without trying, the jostling of the people around them made it look like the two of them were dancing.
"Did I tell you," Melody began, pulling herself up so that he could hear her, "how good you look?" Her fingers curled into the sides of his shirt for emphasis. It was white, a color she wasn't used to seeing on him, and also more fitted than all of the older clothes that he'd been wearing, now that he had less muscle mass.
"No, but yeh've been starin' at me since I got dressed."
She smiled and pushed back the hair that had fallen across his forehead. A smirk that she might have found infuriating at other times snaked its way onto his lips and she tilted her head.
"Harry, are you drunk?" she asked in surprise.
"No, absolutely not." He shook his head and his hair fell right back into place, but his smirk turned into a thin smile. "Just buzzed, not drunk."
Melody let her head fall back as she laughed. Harry watched her hair fall behind her and then curled his hand into a fist at her back as she began to move her hips against his. He could feel the beat of the music in his feet and the beat of his blood in the rest of his body. Melody grinned again as his knuckles rapped against her spine.
"No one is watching us right now," she said. "No one can see us in the middle of all these people. Pretend it's just us. Pretend we're alone."
Easier said than done. Harry could feel someone bumping against his back, hear voices from every angle. He smelled beer and sweat. But one of Melody's hands looped around the side of his neck and her head fell forward, and his hand opened against the small of her back. He might have felt dizzy if she wasn't so solid in front of him.
Melody kept her face lowered when Harry began to dance with her finally, for the first time ever. She thought she was imagining his movements at first, but her eyes caught the twist of his hip and she felt his chest shift beneath her shoulder. Her thumb skimmed the spot just behind his ear, where she could feel his hammering pulse.
Harry's hands grabbed at her hips, ran up the length of her back until he could tangle his fingers in the ends of her damp hair. Even Melody never thought that she'd get him to relax this much. She gasped against his shirt when she felt him grab onto her backside and pull her even closer. And then his fingers detached her hand from his neck. He spun her around. She staggered and he caught her back in his arms, her shoulder blades to his chest.
"Thought I was supposed to be the one unsteady on my feet," he spoke in her ear.
"You caught me off guard."
"Mmm," he hummed. "Didn' know that was possible." His arms tightened around her waist and she felt the lightest of kisses to her collarbone.
"Are you sure you only had two drinks?" she asked as she relaxed against him.
"Wha's that supposed to mean?"
She laughed. When she started dancing again, he moved with her. "I think you had too much."
"Why? Because 'm not mad that yeh have me stuffed in this crowd?"
Melody felt his cheek settle against the side of her head. She looped an arm up to comb through his hair and opened her mouth, but his hand shifted up her side and she flinched away from him instead.
"Fuck, fuck," he cursed, letting her out of his hold. "'M sorry."
She shook her head quickly as she laid a very gentle hand over her ribs. "It's okay. I'm okay."
He was bumped forward by the surging mass of bodies and this time he nearly toppled her over. She caught him by his chest before they could fall. In the very next moment she crashed toward him, stuttering out a pained breath when her chest met his.
"Yeh okay?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as if he could shield her from everyone else. She nodded. "Let's get out of here," he muttered.
Harry pulled Melody into his side, the injured rib closest to him so that no one could irritate it more with a stray elbow. He guided her off of the dance floor, and when the rest of the bar seemed equally as full, they made their way out into the street. Melody leaned against one of the windows, so steamed up on the inside that it was nearly opaque. She laughed and Harry frowned as he stepped in front of her.
"Wha's funny?"
"Nothing. I'm just having a good time."
"You are?" He glanced back through the door they'd come out of and shook his head. "I could've fucked up your rib all over again."
"Harry, I'm fine." She shivered as the cold night air started to cool her sweaty skin. "Hey," she added when his frown only deepened, "I'm okay. I swear. I can barely even feel it anymore."
"It looks like you two started having fun without me."
Melody grinned when she caught sight of Sean. Harry watched her face light up. She stepped away from the window to hug him.
"That's what happens when you're late," she said. When she took a step away from Sean and looked to Harry, she found him with his hands in his pockets. "Um, I was just about to head to the bathroom and try to find Bea. Okay? I'll be back in a second."
"Yeah, sure," Sean said with a nod.
Melody exchanged a quick look with Harry and then began the arduous process of carving a path into the bar. Harry hadn't seen Sean since he'd left the hospital after Melody's last match. He knew what he was supposed to say, it was getting it out of his mouth that would prove the hardest part. There was nothing but tension-filled silence for a moment.
"Look, mate," Harry began, drawing his hands back out of his pockets. He curled his fingers tight enough to crack them. "'M... I didn' know that yeh called me just..."
Sean was grinning. Harry wanted to smack him.
"I know, man. You're sorry. I get it."
"Yeah," Harry agreed with a swift nod. "'M sorry. I just don' like her in these situations where—"
"I know, Harry," Sean interrupted. "I care about her, too. A lot. I do. I know what you mean. But if she wants to keep fighting I can't stop her and I'm gonna do my best to help her stay in one piece."
A girl stumbled into the space between Harry and Sean, giggling wildly, catching herself on the windows of the bar. She bounced back out into the street, chasing a friend, throwing the contents of her cup across the pavement. Harry watched her run and then took a deep breath.
"Yeh want a drink?" he asked.
"Yeah, I could go for a drink."
"Brilliant."
Harry wandered back into the building with Sean at his heels and they began to press through the throngs of people toward the bar. This time, Josie ignored everyone that had been waiting to get Harry another whiskey and to serve Sean a bottle of beer.
"I deserve a nice tip for this," she said before hurrying away.
Sean said something that Harry couldn't quite make out before he took a swig from his beer.
"What?" Harry shouted.
"No cane!" Sean repeated.
"No." Harry shook his head and glanced down at his feet. "No cane. 'S fuckin' bliss bein' able to actually walk."
"I'll bet."
He said something else that Harry couldn't hear over the yelling in the bar and then pointed toward the door. Harry nodded. Struggling not to spill his drink, they trailed back outside. Snowflakes were spilling from the sky, so slow and spaced apart that Harry didn't realize it until one landed on his cheek. It didn't feel cold enough for there to be snow.
"How's your mom?"
Harry let a long gust of air trail between his lips. Snowflakes melted as they reached the rim of his glass.
"She's startin' another round of chemo."
"Jesus Christ."
"Yeah, I know. Don' know how the fuck she can stand it."
Sean shook his head. "'M sorry, man."
Harry didn't acknowledge his words. He only twisted his head to watch the crowds milling about, the group dancing in the strange, fluorescent glow of the single bulb just above the warehouse door. He took a few more gulps from his glass and felt a heat in his belly that he hadn't felt in a long time.
"She's not even mad anymore," he said eventually. "She used to be so angry about it. Shoutin' how it wasn' fair and just pissed that I had to live with my dad because she was so sick. And now 's just another day. 'S just so casual. 'Hi, I'm startin' my next round in a week.'"
Sean didn't know what to say. He'd talked to Harry about these things in passing, but many times it was like pulling teeth to gain any extra information. And now he was just spilling, overflowing. It could have something to do with the glazed eyes and the drink that sloshed onto the pavement as he moved his arm.
"I fuckin' hate this," Harry muttered. "All of it. My mum's dyin' and I can' even help her anymore. 'M just playin' house."
"I don't think that's what you're doing." Sean shivered in his jacket and wondered how Harry wasn't bothered by the winter air. "You need time to recover. Melody needs time, too. She doesn't—"
"Melody." Harry spun so hard he nearly tripped himself and craned his neck to search through the people in the bar. "Where the fuck did she go?"
"The bathroom, remember?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Tha's not what I meant. Said she'd be back, yeah?"
"Yeah," Sean agreed. And as he watched, a shadow fell over Harry's face. He froze in place for a few seconds and then his glass of whiskey shattered on the street. Sean glanced down at the shards. When he looked back up, Harry was gone.
The people stuffed into the entrance of the bar toppled sideways into one another as someone bowled past them. Harry closed the distance between the door and Melody in only a few strides, and when he reached her he ripped the frat guy who had been too close for comfort back by the collar of his shirt. The man gasped and then scrambled to maintain his footing. Melody hadn't seen the interaction, but she'd felt the displacement of air, heard the gasp.
"Harry, no!" Her voice barely carried over the rest of the uproar as heads turned in their direction.
Harry was already halfway through a swing. His fist connected with the man's jaw. His fingers sang a high note of pain and it felt like coming home after a journey far away. That feeling was so deep-seated, so familiar. He wanted to yell but his arm was already winding up for another punch and his brain couldn't organize words quickly enough, so he stayed silent. He hit the guy until he saw blood, then he hit him again. Somewhere, distantly, as though she'd been lost in the crowd, he heard Melody, but he didn't stop until a set of arms wrapped around his shoulders and hauled him away.
"Stop. Harry, stop! Enough!"
It was Sean's voice in his ear. Someone cheered and Harry heard applause. He tried to twist back around but Sean jerked him in the direction of the door. "No, go! We're going outside."
Somehow Sean overpowered him. Without so much as a step in the other direction, Harry was dragged out into the street. Sean threw him out of his arms and Harry stumbled over his abandoned glass.
"What the fuck was that?"
"Yeh didn' see—"
"Are you kidding?" Melody fell through the doorway and nearly tripped right into the sparkling shards of whiskey glass. The skirt of her dress was twisted up one leg and a strap was falling off her shoulder, and she looked almost as livid as Harry felt.
"What's your problem?" Sean asked.
"He was touchin' her!" Harry threw out an arm. His knuckles felt like they might begin to swell. He pressed his thumb to a few to check how much they stung and pain rippled through his hand. He relished it.
"He was not!" Melody shouted. "He was talking to me, and I'm quite capable of telling him to fuck off by myself!"
"Yeah. Yeh looked real capable from where I was standin'."
"What, because I didn't just haul off and hook him?"
"Yeh wanna fight so bad but when—"
"In a ring where the other person wants to fight, too! I'm not gonna start fights with strangers just because they don't understand what personal space is."
"He had his fuckin' hands on yeh. 'M not blind—"
"No, but you're drunk."
Harry reeled back. "What the fuck does that have to do with it? Can still see just fine. Didn' miss his fuckin' face, did I?"
"No, you nearly broke his jaw!" Melody shouted.
"Would serve him right."
Melody heard shuffling behind her and she found a couple friends helping the injured man out of the bar. Blood ran down his chin and stained the chest of his shirt. Harry took a few steps forward and he flinched.
"Stop!" Melody shouted, pressing her hands to Harry's chest.
"Well, get the fuck outta here, then," he said, waving at the group of boys. They started down the street and Melody watched Harry's eyes follow them.
"Ten! Nine! Eight!"
Everyone inside the bar began to count down to midnight. The people outside in the street shouted along. Melody watched as Harry's bleary eyes hardened in realization, as he avoided meeting her gaze, and then she dropped her hands from his chest.
"Happy New Year!" echoed all around them. Melody dropped her eyes and straightened out her dress. For all the noise around them, the air between her and Harry was painfully quiet. Sean couldn't stand it.
"So, that was all I was here for," he said. "I'm going home." He gave Melody a polite nod when she caught his eye and then tossed his beer into the closest receptacle as he turned to leave.
"Are we leavin' too?" Harry asked.
Melody curled her hands together to combat the cold that had begun to settle into her fingers. "That's it?"
"'M not apologizin' for what I did, Mel. Yeh can' just expect me to react calmly to that. I'd do it again if someone else decided to lay a hand on yeh and I really don' care if that makes yeh mad."
He was looking directly at her now instead of avoiding eye contact and his gaze was intense. She shivered. He glanced down at her bare legs and let out a breath that fogged in the air.
"'M sorry that we missed the ball drop," he said before reaching up to tug at his hair. "I wasn' tryin' to fuck up your night."
Melody felt herself soften. It wasn't the apology that she was looking for, but it was something. And from Harry, she thought she could accept this small give.
"Are we goin'?" he asked again when he watched her shiver once more. "'F yeh wanna stay then fine but yeh need your coat out here."
"No," she said softly. Her hands curled around her upper arms. She could feel the tip of her nose growing numb. "No, we can go."
Harry nodded. He let her lead the way back into the bar and through all of the partiers. If he thought that eyes followed the two of them before, now it was as if every head in the building turned their way. People shuffled out of Melody's path. One man folded his hands behind his back as the two of them passed.
"You're a menace," Bea yelled when they reached where she was now sitting at the bar, "you know that? That blood is not gonna come out of the floor."
Harry tucked his hitting hand into the pocket of his jeans gingerly, so that he wouldn't scrape his sore knuckles. Melody's frown deepened.
"Can you get our jackets?"
Bea stretched herself out over the bar top to reach the shelves underneath it and returned with their coats. Melody took both and shook her head so minutely that Harry might not have caught it if he wasn't watching her.
"Please tell Josie I'm sorry."
"Honestly, she's used to it. But I'll tell her."
Music continued to blast, people continued to shout and dance as Melody and Harry left the bar the way they'd come. They slid their arms into their coats when they were outside. Harry thought that the adrenaline of fighting might have cleared the alcohol from his system, but the pavement looked like it was rising toward him as he walked.
"Yeh still angry with me?" he asked after they'd been walking for a few minutes.
"No, I'm upset," she snapped. "It's not the same thing."
"Sounds like the same thing when yeh talk like that."
Melody opened her mouth to respond and gasped instead as she slipped on a patch of ice. Harry grabbed her arm before she could fall but she cried as she jerked herself upright.
"Fuck," she muttered between her clenched teeth.
"Yeh good?"
"My rib," she whispered, blinking up at a streetlight. This road, mercifully, was empty, but she could hear voices echoing from the next block.
"Did yeh strain—" Harry cut himself off as Melody walked into his chest, forehead to his bare skin where his shirt was undone. He watched her hands ball into fists at her sides.
"That bad?"
"Don't patronize me, Harry."
"'M not!" He stroked her hair and sighed. "Should be better within the next few weeks, love."
She grunted against his chest and then pulled away to keep walking. Harry let his hand fall back to his side as he followed her. "Does this mean yeh're not mad?"
"No, fuck you."
Harry chuckled. He rapped absentmindedly on the window of a closed restaurant as he passed.
"Talk dirty to me," he goaded.
Melody stopped dead in her tracks. Harry thought she was going to yell again or actually swing at him. He stopped a few steps behind her.
"You absolute ass." She turned her head to glare at him and then kept walking. "I'm wearing a new underwear set and you fucking ruined that for me."
"What?" He sped up his footsteps. "No, I didn'. Didn' ruin anythin'. I only ruined it if yeh let me ruin it. Don' let me ruin it."
Melody, despite how hard she tried to compose herself, sputtered out a peal of laughter. Harry grinned at her as he caught up and fell into stride beside her.
"That mean yeh forgive me? Yeh're gonna let me see 'em?"
"No."
His face fell so quickly that she had to pinch herself to keep from laughing again.
"If I do it doesn't mean you're forgiven," she said, "but you might get lucky. New year, new slate and all that."
Harry snaked his arm around Melody's shoulders and pressed a clumsy kiss to her head. "Did promise me, remember?" he whispered.
"How could I forget when you remind me so insistently?"
Harry smiled into her hair. Every other emotion that he'd filtered through that night seemed so far removed as Melody tucked her hand up the back of his jacket, as his vision swam foggy just at the edges.
"You're drunk though," Melody muttered as an afterthought. "Probably shouldn't—"
"Oh, please. Please, don' pull that," Harry said. "Could've lost an entire half of my brain and I'd still want yeh. Don' need to be sober to know that."
Melody shook her head, feeling her insides flare at his words. She curled her fingers around his shirt.
They hit the block where the people were beginning to wander out into the sidewalks and hail cabs to get home, and somehow, despite the unfortunate way the night had turned out, Harry thought that this city had never looked so warm and bright.