Meet Me in the Hallway [h.s.]

The Smiths - There Is a Light That Never Goes Out

"To die by your side..."

Rhiannon

I didn't actually have any solid reason as to why I thought Harry was uninterested in me, it was just a feeling. There were a million other ways to write off his antics, but it felt like excuses. It felt like hopeless ignorance.

Which is why going to meet him today sounds like the very last thing I want to be doing. He's kind, too kind, and I know he'll drag this thing out as an attempt to not hurt me and I'll have to suffer through at least two more dates before he sits me down and apologizes because he's just that kind of guy. I wouldn't blame him, I wouldn't even be mad, because he was kind.

But I was wired a different way. In all of the ways he was kind, I was angry. Most people wore their heart on their sleeve but I wore my anger. I was quiet in most situations but the minute someone pushed a button there was nothing quiet about that. That's why this picnic with Harry was the last thing I wanted to do because I wanted him to dump me now. To make me feel like shit and give me an excuse to be angry at him for the next few weeks.

But it's Harry, and I could be mad about a lot of things and hold grudges until the end of time, but not for Harry, never for Harry.

So I get up out of my bed in the morning, step into the shower and let the warm water ease my tension for a moment. And I accept my fate.

I'm a fool.

That is what I am, I am a damn fool. I am dressed in a stupid floral dress and I'm painting my face in blush and trying to find the perfect pair of shoes so at least I look good.

But I've lost my claim to any dignity after this. After feeling this kind of emotion for someone I just recently met. I had no reason to dress up nice and pretty for this unfolding, but maybe I could make him sweat it.

He's smiling that big infectious smile as I pull the door open, a basket attached to his hip and I can see the tips of lavender peeking out from behind the blanket thrown over it. It's my dream date. He's breaking up with me on my dream date.

He tells me how beautiful I look and kisses me on the cheek, but not the lips, and I'm stumbling over my words and I'm messing this up. And somehow I'm no longer in my doorway and I'm sitting on the subway watching out of the corner of my eye as he stares at me, worrying at his lip. And I'm messing this up.

When I sit down in Central Park on top of the blanket he just sat out for the two of us, all I can think about is how this is my greatest nightmare, it ending like this-

"Rhia!" Harry's own eyes appear in my vision, snapping me out of my trance. "What's going on in that head of yours baby? I haven't had your attention all night and I'm starting to get jealous."

He's trying to lighten the mood. God, why is he so kind.

"Harry just get it over with," I sigh, giving up. There was no fixing this mess.

"Wha- Rhia get what over with? The date? I thought this was your dream date," He sounds exasperated. Good, he's angry, maybe that will speed him up.

"God, yes Harry, don't remind me. You're breaking up with me on my dream date, so kind of you, thank you for ruining that for me!" My voice raises with volume as I move to my knees.

"Break up with you?" Harry, shock seeping through his voice, his head rising to be level with mine. "I'm trying to take you on a date, admire you in the sun a little bit, and then maybe I would take you home and sleep with you. And shit, I didn't it mean it like that, fuck, I would lay in bed with you."

"Sure you would big boy," I breathlessly mumble back. His words have knocked the fight out of me, a hit to the chest so hard that it pulled all of the air from my lungs. I had it all wrong. I'm too quick to let anger consume and I always end up wrong.