Symphonies in E Minor

Chapter Seventeen: The Intervention

Harry adjusts his cuffs for the hundredth time, pacing in front of his grinning friend who's simply been unable to wipe that look on his face for the past half hour.

Harry finally stops, looking at Faiz. "You may be wondering why I have asked you to come here."

Faiz shakes his head. "I'm simply delighted to be in your presence, Your Majesty."

Harry doesn't say anything. Not even a snarky reply back or a gesture such as a roll of his eyes, and perhaps that should have alarmed the present company, but if Faiz is anything, it is oblivious when he shouldn't be.

Instead, he lays his cane down and says, "Out with it. What did you want to speak about so urgently that you had to haul me out of bed at this ungodly hour."

"It's 10 in the morning."

"I stand by what I said."

Harry bites his bottom lip with his teeth, frantically pacing again, messing with his cuffs. If he yanks on them any harder, they'll break off and he'll have to go into town to buy more from his tailor. And he cannot do that today. There's too much on his mind. And he needs to speak with someone.

Aaliyah was right from the beginning. Faiz is his person he goes to, and yes he's slacked off recently and has become too anxious to share his emotion aloud due to unwanted ears listening and spreading words, he simply cannot take the feeling in his stomach anymore. He wakes up in the mornings feeling nervous even before his overly caffeinated tea. He constantly looks to the door to see if a certain Scot will knock or simply barge in (he wouldn't put it past her to forgo formalities with his butler). He constantly worries about seeing her again, but that day is today. And he cannot be silent any longer.

"I need help," Harry says suddenly, stopping in front of his friend, who still looks amused. "I do not know what to do about her." He wrings his hands nervously like Aaliyah does. He's caught some of her mannerisms: constantly fiddling with his clothing, biting the inside of his cheek, messing with the rings on his fingers. "I fear I regret it."

Faiz stops smiling instantly. "You regret nearly kissing her?"

Harry's eyes widen. "No! No, I do not regret that. I simply regret the way I went about it. I don't know what I was thinking. She deserves far more than a dingy kiss in a powder room. Especially given all that she has been through with other men. Secluding her and thinking about locking the door behind her to keep her with me..." he trials off, putting a hand to his forehead. "She hasn't said a word since. I fear I have frightened her."

"Harry."

"I fear I have frightened her when I didn't intend to. I didn't even ask her if it was all right for me to touch her like that."

"Harry, you mentioned that she said she wished to be more than friends with you."

"She did. She did say that, but she also said she didn't know what she'd like for me to be for her. More than an instructor, yes, but what else? A lover? A suitor? That response did not mean that I could just reach for her like that. Perhaps I was too harsh."

Faiz chuckles. "Harry, I don't think she's thinking about having you as a suitor just yet. Perhaps all this anxiety is coming from your nervousness about meeting with her father."

Harry's darkened eyes zoom in on his friend's black lined ones. With wobbly legs, he carries himself to the opposite couch and falls into a seat. "He's a laird. He and I are the same if I still had my title. In the letter, he didn't address me as a lord, which means he knows of my rejection. If he knows something that is dated back 7 years, he knows of these rumors surrounding me, which means he detests that I am affiliated with his daughter."