You Were a House on Fire | Harry Styles

nine

Harry left later that afternoon feeling as if he could float with the birds. He told Roe he would text her the details of their date but had no idea where to start on his plan. When he made it back to his apartment, he quickly got to work, googling ferociously on his Macbook.

Surely, Roe has visited all of the tourist spots nearby; she rarely spoke of her childhood, but when she did, indifference threaded her voice, which she blamed on the doom of the city. So, that nixed places such as the Navy Pier or any museums. His recognizable face meant public parks or bars were also out of the picture- no picnics for them. He wanted something exciting, something more than a fancy dinner or a movie and ice cream. After scrolling through the sixth article, he nearly abandoned the project for the night. Ham sauntered towards him from her perch in the window.

"What am I doing wrong, Ham?" He lifted his cat from her position on the floor and placed her on his chest. "Am I being too picky?"

Ham meowed and bit his nose in response.

"I supposed it is dinner time, you're right, " he admitted with a glance to the clock on the wall.
Ham chirped jovially and trotted to her food bowl. Harry spooned her food into it, hopped onto the counter beside the fridge, and continued his search. With Ham munching politely, endless articles rolled under his fingertips about pizza shops and movies out now. Nothing of use. Finally, he found it.

"Bad Axe throwing?" Roe read the sign listed on the brick building as they neared the front door.

Harry held the door for her and shrugged, a childish smile toying his features. Despite the sun still casting long shadows throughout the city, the lobby and attached rooms housed no one except two employees; one a tall and slender man with enough metal rings in his face to get him stopped at the airport, the other a stocky woman with locs brushing her lower back. They sat at the front desk together, both staring directly at Harry.

Harry checked them in, making small talk about the warming weather as if he didn't have the power to rob the place with a few words and a shining smile. Seriously, the woman in front of him nearly crumpled with laughter when he told her, "cold weather is snow laughing matter". Roe crossed her arms over her chest. She heard funnier jokes from her four-year-old, the woman, Nevaeh, she learned, acted like Harry was a standup comedian.

Nonetheless, Nevaeh led them down the hall to the right, opening to a row of stalls, each with two targets mounted near the top. Nevaeh handed each of them an ax, showing them the proper way to hold and throw it. Roe giggled at the concentration covering Harry's features.

"Okay, you're set for the next hour. I'll be back at the front desk if you have any questions," Nevaeh smiled and backed away, keeping eye contact for a few moments longer than entirely comfortable.

"So, lumberjack of the hour, let's see what you're made of," Roe teased.

Harry cleared his throat, rolled up his sleeves, and flexed in her face, eventually breaking into a fit of laughter. Roe gave him a shove. The first twenty minutes consisted of the worst ax-throwing the building saw all year. If either of them felt embarrassed, no one could tell- not like anyone else was there with them, anyway.

Finally, Roe hit inches from the bullseye. "Aha! Beat that, motherfucker." She jabbed a stubby finger into Harry's chest.

"Oh, you think you're so good? Watch this." He wiggled an eyebrow at her before proceeding to miss the target entirely.

"Yeah, I'm watching," she said as she concealed a smile behind her own ax.

Roe stepped up to the line again, rearing back to take her turn until a gentle breath dusted her left shoulder and ring-clad hands covered her eyes. "That's cheating," she whispered and tilted her head up to lick his hand. Roe raised the ax once again, this time hitting the bullseye dead-center. Harry flicked her ear in retaliation.