Only Angel 2 [h.s] AU

Something worth ruining

Harry's POV
New York.

The rooftop was buzzing with laughter and music, lights twinkling like stars against the New York skyline. I stayed near the brick wall, out of the crowd but close enough to see her — Beau. She looked radiant, completely in her element, like she belonged there in a way I sometimes still struggle to believe.

My eyes found the portrait first — her in that black jumpsuit, powerful and poised, that soft pink backdrop giving the whole thing this unexpected warmth. She was leaning on the chair, blue eyes sharp and unguarded. It was more than a photo. It was her — strength wrapped in grace.

I didn't mean to linger so long, but standing there, watching her laugh with friends, champagne in hand, the way she carried herself... it stirred something in me. A quiet pride. A fierce admiration.

I slipped my hands deeper into my pockets, trying to steady myself. I wanted to cross the room, say something, anything, but the words tangled up inside.

Then she turned.

Our eyes met — that quick, electric moment where the noise of the party fell away, and it was just us.

Her smile was soft, a little surprised. "Hey."

I nodded, voice rougher than I wanted. "Hey."

The space between us felt charged, heavy with everything unsaid and everything new.

I took a slow step forward, but didn't get much further before the music and chatter pulled back in around us. The city hummed beneath us — alive and indifferent — like it didn't care about the quiet tension hanging between two people who had somehow become impossible to read.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," she said, voice low but steady. Her eyes searched mine like she was trying to figure out which version of me had shown up.

"Neither was I," I admitted. The words felt heavier than they should. "Work's been... relentless."

She gave a small, understanding nod. "I get that."

I wanted to tell her more — about the meetings, the pressure, the weight of every decision — but it all felt too much to unpack in a crowded rooftop party.

Instead, I let my gaze drop to the ground for a beat, then back up to hers. "You look good."

Her lips quirked into a half smile, but there was a softness there, too. "Thanks. It's been a hell of a year."

"Yeah." My voice dropped. "You earned every bit of this."

There was a pause — just long enough for me to want to say something else, to bridge the gap. But I held back. Some things weren't ready to be said yet.

She glanced past me toward the crowd, then back. "Want to get out of here? Grab a quieter drink?"

I hesitated, the weight in my chest pushing back. But then I nodded. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."

We moved away from the portrait, the city's noise folding behind us. For a moment, it wasn't about the company, the headlines, or expectations.

We slipped off the rooftop and down the stairs to the lobby, the warmth inside a sharp contrast to the cool night air outside. The hum of the party felt miles away now, replaced by the quiet shuffle of late-night guests and the distant clink of glassware from the hotel bar.

I kept my hands in my pockets, avoiding eye contact as we moved through the space. Beau's presence beside me was steady, but I could feel the weight of everything unspoken hanging between us.

She finally broke the silence. "You've been distant lately."

I shrugged, trying to play it off like it was nothing. "Work."