Interlude [h.s]

thirty-nine

Alouette spends the rest of the afternoon sitting behind her desk and going through the hundreds of papers Harry should've reviewed with Evie, putting on the side the ones she doesn't have the competence to look over.

It's a one in a lifetime opportunity to check out the documents of the Palace but, to her disappointment, none of them seems to have interesting information. They focus on the issues of Dacran and Greenside and more general ones. There are lists upon lists of acronyms and amounts of money, files upon files concerning the industries of the country. There are some reports from the main cities, news, times, names and a thousand of information she'd have to be familiar with just to understand. She can't help but think that, if this is how Harry spends his days, it's no surprise that he's so strict and tense most of the time.

"What time is it?" Evie asks all of a sudden, and Alouette glances at the screen of her laptop.

"Six." It's been a little over an hour since Harry left, but it feels like a century has gone by.

Evie nods. "Can you go check on Mr. Styles? And remind him it'd be better if he didn't drink, considering he still has to shoot his daily video. I'll finish up here."

"Of course." Alouette is more than glad to stand up and gather her things. She could've done it half an hour ago, but she couldn't drop everything right after promising Harry she'd deal with his things while he took a break.

She gets out in the corridor and does a quick stop at her bedroom to drop her belongings before walking in the direction of Harry's bedroom.

When she gets there she takes a deep breath, preparing herself mentally, and then knocks on the door.

"Sir."

There's no reply so she knocks again, and then again. Worry comes over her. Is he in there at all? What if he's drunk? She shudders at the thought. Evie will end her if he ends up not being able to shoot his video because of her.

"Sir!" She calls again, this time there's urgency in her voice. She knocks a little harder. Maybe he's sleeping. "Sir!"

The door suddenly opens, and she gasps.

Harry raises an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and amusement in his eyes, fiddling with the button on the cuff of the white dress shirt on his shoulders. It's wide open to reveal his chest and the silver necklace that's resting over his heart, between the two swallows under his collarbones. Alouette's cheeks heats up when she realises he's only wearing the shirt and a pair of black boxers.

The corners of Harry's lips turn up slightly at the shock painted on her face. "You know, when someone doesn't come to the door instantly there's usually a reason." He buttons the cuff up and then moves on to the other nonchalantly, not seeming to mind being half naked in front of her. One of his curls drops in front of his eyes when he looks down at his wrist, it's slightly damp.

"Did you... take... a shower?" She whispers, trying to look at anything but the tattoo of a butterfly on his torso. She has to get out of there.

He hums and moves to the side. "You may come in," he offers, and she steps into the room.

She stares at him. He runs his fingers through his hair, his lips pressing together so lightly but so evidently at the same time. The cloud she saw earlier is still in his eyes, hiding behind the light green of his irises. There's a pause of a heartbeat, and then she wraps her arms around his neck.

He lets out an audible gasp as she hugs him, his body tense against hers, and doesn't make a move.

Alouette counts to five and lets him go, looking everywhere but at him. "I should've done this earlier," she says quietly. "Sorry for this. It just felt like you needed it."