Searching For Sanctuary

8. Poor Excuses For Clothing

We clambered into his car, slamming the doors behind us. Harry started the engine while I put my seat belt on. I folded my arms over my chest and let my head rest against the cool window. He backed out and put the car in drive, pulling onto the road. With a simple push of a button on the dashboard, soft music was coming from the speakers. Harry hummed to whatever song was playing, losing himself in the melody.

I let the hum of the car ride lull me into a state of serenity. With Harry beside me, clouds expanding across the sky, and tinkering music adding background noise, it seemed as though today might actually go well.

"What in the actual fuck is this?" My nose was scrunched up, eyes narrowed as I investigated the article of clothing that barely passed for a piece of fabric.

Harry appeared at my side instantly, looking at the top with a mirroring expression. His head was tilted to the side and his eyebrows were furrowed as he ran the fabric between his fingers. I glanced away from the material to see his face at the same time that he looked down at me.

"To hell if I know. You're a girl, so this should be your area of expertise." He shrugged, letting the top fall back down, causing the hanger to rattle against the metal bar on the rack.

I made a face at that. He grinned, grabbing the poor excuse of clothing back off the rack, adding it to the small tote basket that he was carrying around with the other articles of clothes that I had already chosen. I tried to reach in to grab it out, but he pulled the basket away quickly.

"Harry, put that back," I hissed, glancing around, "You're going to be wasting your money if you buy that."

Harry simply shrugged, walking away. I groaned and rolled my eyes, weaving through the racks to catch up to him. When I did, I tried to sneakily reach my hand into the basket, but Harry caught on rather quickly and pulled the basket around front so it was out of reach.

I sighed. "Harry, don't waste your money on that."

Harry stopped flicking through the clothes on a rack to turn and look at me. He had an unreadable expression plastered to his face, but his eyes were swimming with some emotion that I couldn't put my finger on. The time away from each other had hardened his features, masking his thoughts. It was harder for me to decipher the depth in his expression or the emotion in his eyes. I was back to square one.

"Well maybe I want to waste money on you."

"Well maybe you could waste money on me by buying lunch." I offered, reaching for the top once more, but pulled my hand away when he swatted at it.

"I'm getting it, so you better suck it up."

I shook my head, brushing stray pieces of hair behind my ear. "I would have nowhere to wear that."

He seemed to chew that over for a minute. He was lost in thought for a minute as he processed my words, mulling over the very true fact. His eyes suddenly lit up, lips curling in mischief. My eyebrows scrunched together at the new expression adorning his features, uneasiness churning my stomach.

"I know just where you can wear this."

At lunch, we were sat in the food court. I was in a booth with a large, bushy plant right behind where I was seated. Harry sat in front of me in a metal chair, sipping on his water. A burger and chips were overflowing from my tray while Harry was munching on a chicken sandwich. Bags were evenly distributed on either side of my booth, a sea of bags with clothing that would probably last me for the next five years.

When I finished chewing on a handful of chips, I finally voiced the question that had been nagging my mind for the past couple of hours. "Harry, how can you afford all of this?"