Matrimony Homies

39: Trust (Harry)

"That was so much fun," my girlfriend flashes a giant smile at my sister. "It's been ages since we've watched the movie."

"Yes, and this time my dorky brother didn't try to spear us with his fake sabre," Gemma laughs, and Loren giggles along, sliding a glance in my direction that makes my skin tingle. The unintended double entendre of my sister's words is not lost on me, nor does it appear to have escaped Loren's notice.

"I'm so glad we had this weekend together, Gems."

"And I wish you didn't have to go back to Manchester tonight." Holding my breath, I hope that my sister doesn't notice my girlfriend's guilty look. Luckily, Gemma swiftly shifts her attention towards me. "And you, H, did not have to stay at your own house, you know. You could have spent both of the last two nights here."

But of course I couldn't have. That would mean Loren and I under the same roof, and right now, the volatility between us might have set Gems' flat on fire. "Nah," I protest, verbally brushing off her words, "You girls needed time together without me."

When they simultaneously cross their arms and glare at me, I hold up my hands in surrender. "Sorry, sorry! I meant birds." Four eyebrows draw lower and glowers abound. "Ladies! You're both ladies to me." Giggling, I plant a kiss on Gemma's cheek. "So glad you're excited for the wedding plans. See you soon."

Gemma wraps Loren in another hug, and I pick up Loren's bag and tote, awkwardly standing by the door as I wait for them to complete their ritual – one with which I've been familiar for decades.

"Never leave me," Loren speaks softly into Gemma's ear, but I can hear the words clearly from where I'm stood. Or perhaps I simply know them by heart.

"Never would want to," Gemma replies.

"Even when I'm old and ugly?"

"You'll never be old and ugly, but yes. Even then."

"Love you, Gems."

"Love you, Lor."

Although the lines have never wavered since I've known them, the words have new meaning for me now as the concern in Loren's voice reaches my ears– the worry that Gemma will somehow find out that Loren has committed some unforgivable crime. Which will never happen.

Not even when she finds out you're dating and lied to her about it?

Not even when she finds out that Loren isn't going to Manchester tonight?

I know my sister well, so when I shake off the thoughts, I'm aware that even those two truths won't make Gemma leave her bestie's side. It's not loyalty. It's pure love and acceptance. I also consider the fact that Loren said the same words to me just one weekend ago. What will it take to convince her I'm not going anywhere?  A lot apparently since she's been saying the same thing to Gemma since we were kids and still feels the need to verbalise the sentiment.

The mini-ceremony ends with Loren placing a giant and loud kiss on Gemma's cheek followed by a raspberry so they end up giggling, and I laugh. Now we can leave. I make my move towards the door, but Gemma stops me.

"Where do you think you're going, little brother?" When I turn, her arms are held out as she awaits a hug from me.

Without hesitation, I drop what I'm holding and oblige, my arms wrapping around her tightly, and just before we release each other, my sister whispers in my ear, "Take care of her. She's more fragile than she seems."

Confused by her words, I merely nod and extricate myself from the embrace. While Loren holds the door, I step into the hallway. In mutual silence, we descend to the car where I place her luggage in the boot while she patiently stands by the passenger door. As I move to open the car door, she looks up at me with veiled eyes, and I hurriedly skirt around to the driver's side because I want nothing more than to ravish her right here in the garage. With the slamming of our respective doors also comes the slamming together of our mouths, tongues meshing, tangling, fighting for dominance until we part, gasping for air.