Let Your Good Heart Lead You Home (Zarry AU)

Part 23

Today. It's the only thing he can think of. The only thought going through his head is that he might meet them soon. Might, because there is also a chance he won't. He doesn't know which possibility scares him more. And those two possibilities don't even involve the police, which is also something he needs to watch out for.

Harry doesn't like not knowing what is going to happen and it puts him on edge more than anything else. He's trying to battle the nerves, because they make it nearly impossible to swallow his food or focus on any task, but they won't budge.

One hour left. He has to leave now. A taxi will take him to about a block away; Harry prefers to lay low and walk the last bit. He is worried that he won't know who to look for. Is it a woman or a man? It's not like he can just hold up a sign with 'Hey, I'm Bane. Looking for the Artist' because that would definitely get him in trouble. Looks like he has to rely on his good old instinct.

For a moment he's struck with the thought 'what if it's the taxi driver?' but when he steps into the car and gives him a destination, Harry thinks he's an alright man. Also, it's just not possible. What is possible is that the Artist will look like an ordinary person. They probably do. Harry doesn't think it would be good for his own cover if he met up with someone who looks like an obvious serial killer. Nor does he want to, really.

"You okay, sir? Looking a bit nervous there." The taxi driver looks at him via the mirror, his bushy eyebrows forming a deep frown. Harry tries to relax, but he feels tense all over.

"Job interview," he lies, offering a crooked smile. His hands are clammy and his coat feels too warm.

The driver nods. "You look like a competent fellow. I wouldn't worry."

"Thank you." Harry takes a deep breath and unbuttons his coat. It's silent in the car, apart from the traffic noises bleeding in through the small opening of the window. He fidgets with his phone for a bit, reading through old messages and trying to beat a high-score on a silly game. It's a futile effort once they're approaching their destination and Harry keeps messing up his streak, fingers trembling when he holds them over the screen. He quits the game and pockets his phone so he can look for money to pay his driver with.

The car stops and before he knows it, he's standing on the sidewalk and watching it drive away. He shivers and buttons up his coat again, suddenly feeling cold and shaky. His legs feel like lead and with every step they're getting heavier, his boots scraping on the tiles of the sidewalk. The crowd is getting somewhat thinner and before he turns the corner, Harry takes a moment to rest, leaning against a brick wall and taking deep breaths.

This is odd, he thinks. Never in his life has he felt like this; so overwhelmed, excited, and absolutely terrified. All in one. It's just around the corner. Do they feel the same? Are they looking around and waiting for that one person to appear? Harry knows it's time when people are starting to look at him; he's been leaning against the wall for a few minutes. He can't wait any longer. Harry turns around the corner and stops, hoping he can spot them from this distance.

And then it happens.

It's so cliché. Everything surrounding him fades away and he can only see the most beautiful man in the world. Suddenly Harry doesn't remember why he was so worried, because it's him. It is so clearly him. How does nobody else notice? It's like the sun has appeared from behind the clouds just to point at this one person, who is standing in the crowd with an innocence written over him that Harry knows to be a disguise, because he's wearing the exact same thing.

When their eyes finally meet, a calm settles over him. It's like meeting a friend that you've just seen yesterday. Something familiar and simple. Harry nods to the person, turns around, and starts walking. He knows the man will follow.