Petal [h.s.]

Chapter 54

Violet.

"So, Harry, what do you do?" James asked him, taking another sip of his water.

"I own a bar not too far from here." Harry explained and I almost rolled my eyes at the normal description of his job he gave. Owning the bar was like 10% of what Harry actually did.

James nodded, seemingly impressed. "That's cool. Is that how you two met?"

"We met through Abby. She works in Harry's bar." I briefly explained, and James nodded again.

I couldn't help but continuously stare at him throughout this conversation. We had been at the diner for about an hour now, just having some small talk. There were things I wanted to ask him, but on the other hand there wasn't anything to talk about. I was probably still in shock, and in disbelief of him sitting in front of me.

Harry had ordered a platter of fries that we were all nibbling from together.

"What's Saint Mary's like?" I asked.

"It's good." James sighed, "I mean, they do the best they can. The nurses and staff are really nice, and very understanding. They just care a lot about us. I'm in a wing with less security so we get quite a bit of freedom inside the building."

"So you can do like... hobbies and stuff?"

"Mhm. I like to paint quite a bit." James spoke.

My brows raised and I looked at Harry. "Harry paints too! That's cool."

I grinned. Harry shifted in his seat, looking slightly uncomfortable that I had told something so personal to someone that he hardly knew, but it was out before I realized it.

"Really? What do you paint?" James asked with a sparkle in his eyes. I glanced down to his hand, seeing his entwined fingers resting on the table. His nails were a bit chipped but I could indeed see some faint paint stains on his hands.

Harry's were clean of paint stains, but I did frown when I saw his bruised and swollen knuckles. Some were scraped, a bit of dried up blood on the tanned skin of his hands. I didn't have to be a detective to realize he had punched someone recently.

Repeatedly by the sight of his hands.

Harry cleared his throat and shrugged. "Mainly silhouettes. It's quite abstract, and I only use black."

"He's really good." I chimed in, looking proudly at Harry, who blushed ever so slightly. A nervous Harry was a look I wasn't used to, and he looked cuter than ever with his little rosy cheeks.

"They do provide us with like decent paint and canvasses at Saint Mary's, so that's cool. I mostly do the garden, like the view we have. Been painting the same bloody view for years now." He chuckled, but it was clear that it wasn't funny. Silence loomed over the table.

"Do you have any prospect on how long you'll have to stay there?"

James sighed and shot me a sad smile. "Thinking it's a lifetime thing, Vivi."

Harry's hand on my leg tightened ever so slightly when the nickname fell from James' lips. He hardly ever called me by my full name, he had always called me Vivi. I knew for Harry it seemed odd since he was so used to people calling me 'Vi' or him calling me 'petal'.

I frowned at his words. "But... Aren't you like, healed now? I mean, you're on good meds and you seem just fine. Don't they do rehabilitation programs to get you back into society?"

"They do, but I've been in prison. I have a criminal record, and that in combination with my mental issues is just a recipe for disaster. I'd have a target on my back as far as the police goes, and finding a job with my profile is nearly impossible."