Italy In The Spring [h.s]

4

"Well... I guess we can start by asking each other how we've been?" My hands fiddle with themselves under the table, chewing on the inside of my cheek, his gaze never leaving my face.

"I've been fine, Aurora," Harry replies in a monotone voice, never budging from his place against the table. "Do I need to ask how you've been, or can I confer from what I've walked in on twice now?"

My eyebrows furrow together at his words, not knowing exactly how I should interpret that, "What do you mean by that?"

"You know exactly what I mean," his eyes darken the slightest bit and I feel hints of frustration creeping into my mind.

"I'm sorry... were you not the one who told me to move on and find someone new?" I scoff, not being afraid to maintain eye contact with him. "Here I was thinking we could have a civil conversation-"

"It's kind of hard to do that when you can barely even look at me," he retorts, pushing himself away from the island and moving the slightest bit closer to me.

Why the fuck is he acting like this? There's no warmth in his tone whatsoever and it makes me feel on edge, not liking this change in his demeanor. I get he's probably upset about Timmy and me, but he had wanted this for me. He pushed me to find happiness, and it feels like now that I have, he regrets it.

"Harry, why are you acting like this? I've barely said two words to you, and-"

"That's exactly why I'm acting like this," he cuts me off, his tone even harsher now. "You can barely talk to me, Aurora. How do you think that makes me feel? You're acting like you don't want to be around me and I haven't even been here for two hours yet," with each sentence, he takes a step closer to me, and I find myself not knowing what to do or say.

He's close to three feet away from me now and my heart is practically racing out of my chest. This is not how I expected our first conversation to go. I thought that maybe he'd be... understanding? Or at least not as mad as he seems to be right now. It feels as if my chest is tightening, finding it harder and harder to breathe.

I knew this was going to be hard, but he's making this even harder. Somehow, it feels like he's breaking my heart all over again and he doesn't even care.

"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry. It's just- it's hard for me right now," I mumble, my voice trembling slightly as my hands begin to shake.

"It's hard for me, too, Aurora. But at least I'm not fucking avoiding you on purpose," he says quickly, taking yet another step closer to me.

I take a deep breath, "I'm not a-avoiding you."

"Yes you are," Harry rolls his eyes, and my heart cracks slightly in my chest. "You can't even look me in the eyes."

He's right. I can't. I can't look at him, because if I do, I'm going to fall apart. I don't want him to see me cry. He can't see my cry. Not so soon and not so easily like this.

"Look at me, Aurora."

My head shakes involuntarily, and I keep my gaze trained on my lap, refusing to look up even though I can feel his presence incredibly close to me. I can feel the anger and sadness radiating off of him in waves, disappointment practically consuming me.

"Why can't you look at me?" He whispers. There's pain in his voice, and I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could make all of these unwelcome feelings go away.

"Because," I whimper, still not looking up.

"Why, Aurora?" I can feel him now. He's everywhere and it's fucking suffocating.

Jasmine and mint. Jasmine seeping into my lungs, the taste of mint on the tip of my tongue.

"Please, Harry," my voice cracks, coming out just above a whimper. Tidal waves of emotions crash down on me relentlessly, and I have to concentrate on not crying. Fuck, this is so hard.