Sanctuary [h.s.]

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"It's you, it's you, it's all for you

Everything I do."

***

The past week had been a whirlwind of productivity, the kind that filled your veins with a rare, electric energy. It had been so long since I felt a creative surge like this—like inspiration was pouring from some deep well inside me, one I had feared had run dry. It was invigorating, like I was rediscovering a part of myself. Perhaps it was the newness of whatever was unfolding between Harry and me that fueled it. Not that we had any clear idea of what it was. But the unspoken understanding that we were together, whatever that meant, was enough to settle any uncertainty. For now.

I'd finished work earlier than expected, leaving me with time to meet Harry at the park. The afternoon sun bathed the world in a soft, golden warmth, and I could feel it sinking into my skin, a welcome contrast to the cool air. I was sprawled out on a blanket, lying on my stomach with my elbows propped against the soft fabric as I lost myself in the pages of my book. The lazy flick of the wind ruffled the edges of the paper as I absentmindedly popped a green grape into my mouth, the sweet burst of flavour a perfect counterpoint to the peaceful atmosphere.

"God, you're beautiful," Harry's voice broke through my focus, his words melting into the air with a warmth that rivalled the sun.

I glanced up from my book, catching his gaze. His eyes held a softness, a certain light that always seemed to catch me off guard. I grinned at him, scrunching my nose playfully, as if his compliment embarrassed me, but the truth was I could never quite get used to the way he looked at me.

His smile softened further, the fondness in his expression undeniable. For all his sharp wit and biting charm, there were moments like this where I caught a glimpse of something more—something gentler, almost vulnerable.

I set the book aside and sat up, folding my legs beneath me, feeling a question on the tip of my tongue that I could no longer suppress. "Can I ask you something?" My voice was tentative, a little uncertain, but the curiosity outweighed the hesitation.

Harry shifted slightly, squinting against the bright light before raising a hand to shield his eyes. "I'm all ears, my love," he said smoothly, though I could tell he was bracing himself for whatever was coming next.

I hesitated, searching his face before speaking. "What are we, to you?" My voice was softer than I intended, the weight of the question hanging between us.

He blinked, his brow furrowing ever so slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his features.

"I mean," I continued, trying to clarify, "if I were to talk about you to someone else... How would I explain this? Explain us?"

Harry shifted, sitting up straighter, moving into the shade of the tree nearby to escape the sun. His eyes met mine fully now, taking me in like I was a puzzle he was still working out. After a beat, he cleared his throat, a little awkwardly. "Honestly? I don't know," he said, the corners of his lips tugging into a faint smile. "But isn't it kind of nice? Not knowing?"

I could feel a tiny knot form in my chest at his answer, a flicker of disappointment I tried to hide. My brow furrowed slightly despite myself.

He noticed, of course. He always did. His hand slipped over mine, his fingers cool against my skin, and he began tracing small circles over my knuckles with his thumb. The gesture was gentle, but grounding. "You're not a victim," he said softly, his voice taking on a contemplative tone. "Not a target. Not just one night it's better to forget." He paused, his gaze flicking back to mine, a question in his eyes as though he were pondering this for himself. "But then... whatever in the world could you be?"