NUMINOUS | Harry Styles

SIX

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The chill of mid-October had settled over the town, painting the streets with a palette of burnt oranges and deep reds. Vera moved about with ease, humming a soft tone as she cherished the warmth of the bookshop, losing herself in the pages before her.

On an overcast afternoon made for reading ,the little bookstore was bathed in the soft, muted light of the impending rain. Vera, comfortably lost in the task of cataloging a new shipment of fantasy books, glanced up when the shop bell chimed— and felt a smile bloom across her face.

It was Harry who stood in the doorway, his wild hair looking even more unruly from the windy walk over. But it wasn't just Harry today– nestled contentedly in his arms was a gray, purring bundle of fur that Vera didn't realize how much she missed.

"Shadow!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with genuine delight. The cat, peering at her through half-lidded eyes, let out a sleepy mew of recognition, his tail flicking lazily.

Harry's stern expression softened into a rare grin at Vera's reaction. "Thought you might like a visit from this rascal," he said. He gently deposited Shadow onto the counter, where the cat immediately curled up, purring contentedly as if the spot had been made just for him.

Vera's hands moved instinctively to shower Shadow with affectionate pats and chin scratches. The cat soaked up the attention, kneading his paws against the smooth wood of the counter.

Vera said, her eyes flicking up to meet Harry's. She couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through her chest at the sight of Shadow, as if his presence alone had brightened the gray day.

"Well, he always did take a liking to you," Harry replied, his voice carrying a hint of something Vera couldn't quite place—was it wistfulness? She opened her mouth to ask, but the moment passed quickly, and Harry shifted his gaze away, as if unwilling to linger on whatever emotion had just surfaced.

"I'll just browse around. Let me know if he's any trouble," Harry added, his tone back to its usual gruffness. Without waiting for a response, he disappeared amongst the stacks, already engrossed in a new book.

Vera settled in behind the counter, feeling a sense of peace as Shadow curled up beside her. The cat's warmth and steady purring created a comforting background noise as she resumed her work.

Every so often, Shadow would wander over to bump his head against her hand, demanding more pets before returning to his cozy spot for a nap or lazily watching the world go by through the bookstore window.

As the hours passed, Vera found herself glancing up now and then, half expecting to see Harry reappear with a stack of books in hand. But when he did eventually return, he was empty-handed.

He stopped short, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of Shadow perched comfortably on Vera's shoulders as she shelved a few books. He blinked in surprise.

"I see he's made himself at home," said Harry wryly, coming over to extricate the cat from his contented perch.

Vera laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Please bring him anytime," she said, her voice warm. Shadow let out a small protest as Harry lifted him into his arms, but quickly settled back against Harry's chest with a contented yawn, as if the whole world was perfectly aligned for him.

"We should get going. Thanks for entertaining him today," Harry said, his tone sincere, though his eyes remained guarded as they always did. Vera gave Shadow one last scratch under the chin before they headed out into town.

The next week, much to Vera's delight, Harry brought Shadow along again. It soon became a regular occurrence, their visits a bright spot in Vera's routine. Harry would spend hours browsing the shelves, losing himself in the books, while Shadow kept Vera company behind the counter, lying by her feet or exploring the nooks and crannies of the shop.

When Vera had to shelve books or assist customers, Shadow entertained himself, batting at loose bookmarks or investigating the hidden corners of the store with the curiosity only a cat could muster. Vera kept one eye on the mischievous feline, but he seemed content to amuse himself, as if the bookstore had become his second home.

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But Vera couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Harry's demeanor lately. There was a restlessness to him, making him seem more on edge than usual. His visits to the bookstore, once a leisurely escape, had taken on a different tone. He would browse the shelves with a kind of urgency, his gaze darting around as if searching for something he couldn't quite find.

Harry's shoulders seemed tense, his usual calm exterior cracking at the edges. He was still polite, still brought Shadow along to their now-familiar routine, but there was a distraction in his eyes, a distance that hadn't been there before. It was as if his mind was elsewhere, preoccupied with thoughts he wasn't willing to share.

Vera watched him from behind the counter, her fingers idly stroking Shadow's soft fur as the cat lay sprawled across the counter. She wanted to ask what was troubling him, to offer a listening ear, but something held her back. Harry had always been guarded, a man of few words, and Vera wasn't sure if he would appreciate her prying into his matters.

Still, the concern gnawed at her. She found herself glancing over at him more often, her eyes tracing the lines of tension in his posture, the way his hands occasionally flexed as if he were trying to work out some unseen stress. It was unlike him to be so agitated, and it left Vera feeling unsettled.

One afternoon, as Harry stood in his usual spot in the bookstore, flipping through a book with far less interest than usual, Vera couldn't help but break the silence.

"Harry," she began tentatively, her voice low and soft to not startle him. He looked up, his piercing green eyes meeting hers, and for a moment, she saw a flash of that vulnerability she had glimpsed before. "Is everything okay? You seem... different lately."

Harry blinked, surprise flickering across his face. He opened his mouth as if to respond, but then hesitated, the words catching in his throat. Instead, he gave a noncommittal shrug, his gaze dropping back to the book in his hands.

"Just a lot on my mind," he muttered, his tone dismissive. "Nothing you need to worry about."

But Vera did worry. She couldn't shake the feeling that whatever was bothering Harry was more serious than he was letting on. She wanted to push, to ask what was really going on, but the wary look in his eyes stopped her. Harry wasn't ready to talk, and she wasn't about to force him.

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