Interlude [h.s]

forty-eight

"So I guess you don't trust your guards?" Alouette asks as they walk down the street, keeping an even pace not to seem suspicious. The Revolution seems to have lost them now, and she's finally starting to relax a little bit.

Harry lets out a cold laugh. "I don't trust anyone."

"If that was true you wouldn't be in this situation." The answer is halfway between lighthearted and tense, and it earns her a cold glare from him.

Alouette turns into another street, but she jumps back when four police cars speed down the road. Her breath hitches in her throat and she slams Harry against the wall right before he can be seen. When they drive past she glances after them, furrowing her eyebrows when she realises they're going in the direction they're coming from.

"Weird," she comments, but her heart is beating faster in her chest. They're too close, and she doesn't like it.

"How unexpected," Harry says behind her, and the unsettling calm in his voice makes her snap her head in his direction. She studies his gaze; his face is expressionless, the slightest hint of irony in his eyes.

Realisation sinks into her. "You don't happen to have anything to do with that, do you?" she bites out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him into another side street.

"How would I?" His voice is plain, but he isn't a stranger to her—she's had plenty of time to study his expressions, the way his muscles clench and fingers fidget when something is on his mind. His eyebrow raises slightly, as if he's daring her to piece the truth back together.

Three more police cars speed down the street and this time they only don't get caught because Alouette is quick to turn Harry's back to the road.

"The admin code!" Alouette hisses, immediately wanting to kick herself for not having thought of it earlier. Harry has notified the authorities by using his card. Everyone is looking for him, so the President's admin code has been enough to catch everyone's attention.

Which means that there are seven police cars looking for Harry not too far from where they are at the moment, and there will be more soon.

"Shit!" Alouette tightens her grip on Harry's wrist and runs.

This time around she stays far away from the main roads and dashes down the side streets, avoiding the ones with too many people. They quickly find themselves in the more dangerous area of the city but Alouette doesn't stop nor steers clear from it, knowing that no one living there would ever dare to call the police to save Harry.

Her heart is about to explode in her chest because of the strain on her legs, but she doesn't stop. Harry runs next to her, and now that he isn't wearing his uncomfortable suit anymore he's easily keeping up with her—even though Alouette has the curious sensation that he's running slower just to stay by her side. His hair is a brunette mess on top of his head and he isn't that recognisable anymore. Alouette can only hope no one will look at them too long and find out who he is, trouble is the last thing they need.

All of a sudden a man is crossing the street, and she slams into him. She stumbles but Harry catches her and pulls her towards him.

The man's bag is on the ground, his groceries on the asphalt. He bends down and starts lifting them up, a desolated look in his eyes.

Alouette walks towards him, freeing herself from Harry's hold. "I'm very sorry, let me help you," she says, kneeling on the floor and helping him pick up the food and put it back in the bag.

The man looks up at her gratefully. He seems to be in his late fifties and holds a friendly look in his eyes, and she immediately feels even worse for crashing against him. "Thank you."