Sanctuary [h.s.]

Chapter Ten

"Something bad is 'bout to happen to me

I don't know what, but I feel it coming

Might be so sad, might leave my nose running

I just hope she don't wanna leave me"

***

Tuesday had dragged on at a snail's pace, each minute ticking by slower than the last. My thoughts drifted back to the weekend, a time spent cocooned in the apartment with Olivia. We had both needed a break from reality, so we immersed ourselves in a marathon of sad romance movies, the kind that tug at your heartstrings and leave you feeling raw. We cried together, sharing in the characters' heartbreaks and losses, as if they were our own.

In between the tears, we sought solace in small acts of self-care. We painted each other's nails in bright, cheerful colors that contrasted sharply with our somber moods and slathered on face masks that promised rejuvenation, if not for our souls, at least for our skin. It was a weekend of vulnerability and healing, but despite the intimate setting, I hadn't brought up Harry once. The topic felt too heavy, too fraught with unresolved emotions and unspoken words. What could I even say? The uncertainty gnawed at me, a constant undercurrent to the otherwise peaceful weekend.

As the workday neared its end, my phone buzzed, jolting me from my reverie. The screen displayed "No Caller ID." and I was pretty certain it was Harry. He hadn't left me alone for more than a week at a time, just as he had promised. Even the most persistent scammers weren't this needy.

He was already at the pub and wanted me to join him. Without much thought, I found myself agreeing to meet him. As soon as the call ended, I hurried to the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, eyes wide with a mix of excitement and apprehension. I touched up my makeup, smoothing out the imperfections and adding a touch of color to my cheeks. I ran a brush through my hair, trying to tame the wild strands into something more presentable. The act of getting ready was soothing in its familiarity, a small ritual that gave me a sense of control in an otherwise uncertain situation.

The ride to the pub was quiet, the steady hum of the car's engine providing a moment of calm amid the day's lingering tensions. I offered a brief nod of thanks to the driver as I stepped out onto the bustling street, the cool evening air refreshing against my skin as I made my way into the warmly lit establishment. The pub exuded a comforting ambiance, with soft murmurs of conversation and the clink of glasses filling the air.

My gaze swept across the dimly lit room until it settled on Harry, standing casually at the bar engaged in easy banter with the bartender. He looked effortlessly composed, his tall frame leaning against the polished wood while a glass of brandy rested in his hand, catching the soft glow of the overhead lights.

I approached him quietly, weaving my way through the scattered groups of patrons until I reached his side. A gentle tap on his shoulder prompted him to turn, and his expression brightened with a genuine smile as he recognized me. "There you are! My friend."

"At your service," I replied with a soft chuckle, settling onto the stool beside him.

"Are you now? Don't make promises you can't keep, darling." he teased lightly, his gaze lingering on mine with a hint of playful challenge.

"Are you drunk?" I teased back, noting the relaxed and slightly irreverent demeanor that seemed to coat his usually composed persona. Sensing the bartender's attention, I swiftly ordered a drink, prompting them to step away to prepare it.

"I have drunk. Not alcohol, of course. A cow. He took a little of my blood, I took all of his," Harry quipped, his voice laced with amusement as he took a casual sip of his brandy.