The Shield (Prince Harry fanfic #2)

Chapter Fourteen

What was to be expected when you saw your apparent love? Were you supposed to gasp? Were you supposed to fall into their arms? Were you supposed to run toward one another in a carefully drawn out haste so that lips could be touched at a climaxful moment in the song? Was there supposed to be a kiss? What exactly was meant to be said? You had to say something, and it wasn't easy to explain any of this away.

Lucy was the first to speak. "Hello, Harry. How are you?"

Harry swallowed. This wasn't at all like he planned, but he hadn't really thought about what would happen after he saw her again. He hadn't thought what she might say or do. She was incredibly polite, but he would've liked it if she would've yelled at him. It would've given him something to say at least.

"Do you shop here often?" she asked, and he immediately recognized the tone. It was that slightly mocking and incredibly sarcastic tone, and he cursed himself because she probably realized something more important was going on outside and it wasn't her. "Did you come here for a journal too?" Lucy picked up another journal in her hand. "This one is lovely." She handed it to him. "I think it'll help with your recovery." She walked out of the cramped room.

After several seconds, Harry followed after her. He still didn't have much to say, but he carried the journal, as if to buy it.

"Harry," Lucy turned back, "please say something. It's terribly uncomfortable when you don't." She paused, a smirk piling on her face. "And I thought you might be happy to see me."

He smiled. "I am."

"I would assume that's why you're here. Not for an actual book?"

His fingers drummed the hardcover of the journal. "No, not for a book," he admitted. "I thought you might need help."

She waited for him to explain.

"Paparazzi were outside. I thought you might need help getting them away. I could take you back to your... hotel." He found it hard not to say anything else, something that might offend her in any way. This was his territory, and he didn't own it. He should've been confident here. "Luce, I realize you don't need help and you don't need to be saved," she nodded at that, "but this is my life. I live in this world. I know about paparazzi. I know how viscous they can get."

"So you thought to come save me?"

"Yes." Harry was quite concerned for his life now.

"Thank you."

Harry almost froze at the thank you from Lucy.

"That was very kind of you. I would love a ride back to my hostile."

He almost froze again. "A hostile? Aren't those dangerous?"

She smirked, and Harry had to remember who he spoke to. "I'm a woman, Harry. I can handle myself."

"Of course, I didn't mean--"

"Harry." He looked up at her with hopeful blue eyes. "It's nice to see you again." She paused. "Hello," she repeated.

He never did say hello to her. "Hello."

"How are you?" She chose her words carefully. "How is your recovery going?"

"It's going good. I'm well. Still not... up to par, but I'm getting there."

"You're doing better than others."

Harry smiled, and he glanced through the books. He was able to see outside while no one could see them. Officially, all paparazzi was gone from bookstore, and she was free to go as she pleased. "How did you know about there being something more important?"

Lucy shrugged. "I went through my checklist."

He arched an eyebrow. "You have a checklist?"

"I do," she admitted.

"What is on the checklist?"

Her lips were puckered as she decided to go about this. "I heard no loud noises, no gunshots or bombs, so I assumed everything was fine." Harry hadn't even thought about her past at a moment like this, when there was a panic; he cursed himself. "There was no screeching of tires. There was a pounding of feet and some yells. There was this one scream, female but excited." Her eyes rested on him. "And then someone yelled, It's Prince Harry! That was a giveaway." A smirk turned her lips up.

"Yes." Harry laughed. Eventually, his eyes came to rest on her again. "And how are you?"

Her smile melted off her face slowly, and then she smirked, forced. Harry was taken back for a second, not really believing Lucy was going to lie to him. When their eyes met, she let the smirk drop. "I'm good, Harry. No one was hurt; I'm fine." Her words were crisp and clear, and though she was fine, there was still something wrong about her.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She wasn't. "I didn't want to be in that situation again. No one would want to be in that situation ever."

"You got put in it twice."

"I have practice." Her eyes glanced over to the open windows. "You're here, so what are they taking pictures of?"

"I have a body double," Harry admitted, "and paparazzi are taking pictures of him. They don't even know the difference." The journal slipped from his hands, and he bent to pick it up.

"Harry," Lucy began, "you should buy the journal."

With the journal in his hand, he stood up. They were even, equals, just the way he liked it. "I don't know."

"Have you been drawing?"

Harry paused. He didn't want to lie to her, and with his hesitation, Lucy already knew. Clearing his throat, he shrugged.

"Buy the journal," she ordered, almost politely, too calmly, and beautifully said. "Also, you should go back to do your art. It'll help you."

"What helped you?" he asked. Knowing his situation wasn't completely like hers, Harry wanted to know how to be better. Sometimes he found it hard to sleep and he woke up in the middle of the night, and sometimes he found it hard to breathe. A panic would take over him. He wanted to be better, because he knew he could be better.

"Writing," she said, "and reading. I write everything down, which was the only way to express it for me, really. And then I could write whatever I wanted, something fictional and way out there. Anything to make me feel free."

"Are you good at writing?"

She chuckled. "No. Are you good at drawing?"

"No."

Perhaps both of them were lying, yet not willing to share the secrets of their souls. Everything that they had once given to each other, was perhaps missing. He was comfortable with her, but she was tense here. She didn't trust the corners and the shadows. She didn't like what she didn't know.

"Luce, you don't need to buy a new journal," he said.

"I don't?"

"No. I have your journal. It was shipped back with my stuff. You must've forgot it somehow or things got screwed it." Harry paused. "It's back at Kensington Palace. I can get it for you. I can bring it to you."

"Are you saying you want to see me again?"

"Absolutely." But by her asking this, Harry wasn't sure if that was what she wanted. Perhaps she had ran for a good purpose. "Do you want to see again?"

"It depends," Lucy admitted.

"On what?"

"Will you be human?"