The August Project (H.S.)

Chapter Seven

sorry for the late update!! i've just got my exam results so haven't had any time to write. a song to go with the first part of this chapter is our last summer by abba (that's not foreboding i actually swear) xx

Augustine

The air was filled with gentle chatter as Harry escorted Augustine from the apartment building and out onto the damp, warm evening.

"What's your favourite food?" she found herself asking as the warmth of the rue hit them, leaving the cool air-conditioned lobby behind them. Harry had taken them back to the apartment where she'd showered and changed and he'd pulled on a button up. He'd made sure to clarify that 'this is not a date', which she'd scoffed at, laughing to herself at the prospect of her kidnapper taking her on a 'date'. So wrong in so many different ways.

"Erm, probably tacos," he replied, shooting her a scowl as he noticed her laughing at him. Augustine felt oddly pleased he was letting down his guard and letting her see under the façade for once, even if it was only for a short time.

"Tacos? Really?" she laughed, making a face. "You're such a teenage boy."

"M'not!" he shot back, but now he was smiling too.

"How old are you?" she asked the question tentatively; she'd been wondering that more and more often over the last day.

"22, since February," he replied, which shocked her - he acted so formally, not what you'd expect from someone in their early twenties. Not much of a party animal, then.

She gave him a nod, taking in this new information and storing it her brain. Not that much older than me, she thought. They continued along the avenue, lined with the arching platanes of Paris. Augustine had always loved these trees, with their heavenly blooms of lime green leaves that began to grow in the early spring, unfurling their leaves and revealing the first drop of new life to the city. By this time of year, in the early August heat of Paris, the trees were thriving and full of the leaves, casting a much welcomed shade over the rues.

"So we're going to a tacos restaurant, I'd assume?"

"'Course not," he told her. "S'not where you take a girl."

"And you'd know all about where to take girls, I assume, being that you're in the trade of stealing them."

"Just y'watch out, or I'll take more than just your freedom," he threatened.

"Oh, I have no doubt about that," she winked back at him playfully, flicking her hair as if to seduce him.

"Shut up," he squirmed, but she could tell he didn't mind her gentle flirting.

After they'd been walking for a while, their avenue met the river and opened out into a long row of restaurants and bistros. Augustine recognised it as one of the more formal eating areas of Paris, away from the hustle and bustle of the tourist-heavy centre, with beautiful views across the river as people ate.

Harry pulled Augustine closer to him, whispering in her ear softly. "Act like y'mine."

"I pretty much am already," she glared back. "S'not like I'm here by choice."

"There'll be consequences if y'try anything on, though," he reminded her. "I'm not joking."

She huffed, and moved forward, tugging him along with her. She could sense the barrier she'd broken down between them to see him with his guard down had risen back up again. Way to keep things light, Harry, she thought. Even after that threat, though, she felt his hand snake down to rub his long fingers along her wrist, as if in apology.