red herring [h.s.]

62.

Harry.

"Yeah, this is weird." Stella muttered once we stood in front of my house.

I awkwardly scratched the back of my neck, watching her as she glanced up the fence surrounding the brick building with her bottom lip nervously between her teeth. Her hands fiddled with the strap of her linen tote bag and she wore loose jeans and an oversized t-shirt today with colourful sneakers.

Her hair was shining in the March-sun in Manhattan and little blossoms grew on the trees that decorated the sidewalks of the Upper East Side. I hadn't been here in a while.

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea." She sighed, turning to face me with a guilty look on her face. There was anxiety behind her green eyes when she stood with tense shoulders. I hardly heard her, admiring her effortless beauty. She clearly had a sleepover with Erin last night, her nails were a muted orange colour today with parts of one scratched off from fiddling with her fingers too much.

I could only imagine them spilling their hearts out to one another while painting their nails. Maybe one day I could be part of the nail-painting party too when Erin truly forgave me for all the shit I put her best friend through.

"Baby," I took a step towards her and slid an arm around her waist to pull her into me, "We'll be alright." I whispered, nudging my nose against hers. Stella let out a breath and nodded.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, but you know... it's just a house. Let's just clear it out before the guys come over. It won't be long, I don't have many personal things here." I spoke softly. Stella smelled like shower and I adored it.

It was a beautiful Spring-day and I was putting the jobhunt on hold to get all the practicalities done this week. Basically I was moving out of here and Stella was moving out of her apartment tomorrow and Friday, to move in with me in my Chelsea-apartment which was now officially in my name. I had broken all ties with Matt and went in this morning to hand him everything I still owned at my apartment.

I gave him back the credit cards that were his, I gave him back the weapons, the knives, the paperwork that I had from different assignments. And now I was about to take my personal stuff out of this house that I lived in for about five years and then someone else would probably occupy it.

Stella still didn't seem sure, and I knew with each look she took up that front door, she was reminded of the rainy January evening where she stood here to confront me with tears in her eyes and the Stella-file in her quivering hands.

"You're right." She eventually mumbled, "It's stupid. It's just a house." She wrapped both arms around my shoulders and pushed herself up to give me a small kiss, "Let's go."

I smiled and nodded, "Okay." I softly squeezed her ass once before taking her hand in mine and guiding her up the familiar front steps. I fumbled with my keys and blindly pushed it into the look, which had just become such a habit overtime.

The first thing I noticed when walking inside, was how cold it was. The house was quite large and made mostly of stone and tiles. In summers it was nice and cool here, but the house never really gave me any warmth. I turned to the wall, turning off all the alarm systems that would go blaring in about a minute if I didn't type in the code.

Stella nervously stood in the doorway, one of her hands still in mine. Her eyes flicked up the hallway, seeing the doors off to the side and the large massive stairs that lead up.

"Bit dark in here." I muttered before turning on some lights. The house just smelled like no one had been here for a few weeks and it looked like it hadn't been occupied for even longer. It made me realize that whenever I was here, I usually headed straight up to bed. I never spent that much time here by myself. This house never felt like a home.