Harry bought the biggest elephant ear he could find, splitting it between us as we wove through the bustling crowd. I kept stopping to snap pictures of anything that caught my eye—the colors of fresh flowers, vibrant vendor signs, kids laughing as they chased each other.
"What do you want to do next?" Harry asked, watching me lift the camera for another shot.
I lowered the lens as music floated through the air. We scanned until we spotted a small group of musicians on an open park stage, their notes weaving a lazy afternoon melody.
"Care to dance?" I asked, flashing him a playful wink.
His smile grew wider, and with an exaggerated bow, he took my hand and spun me under his arm.
"After you, m'lady," he said, voice dripping with a proper British accent that never failed to make me smile.
The band slid into a slow song. Harry's hand settled at the small of my back, the other still holding mine, while I placed my hand on his shoulder. We moved together in a soft swirl across the grassy patch.
I glanced around, cheeks warming as a few picnickers and listeners watched our clumsy, carefree dance.
"Stop thinking so much," Harry murmured, voice low as he looked into my eyes.
"I'm not!" I insisted, even though my cheeks flamed pink.
"Liar." Harry laughed, pulling me closer. I shifted my hand from his shoulder to the middle of his back, looping my arm under his. It felt natural, like we were made to fit this way.
"We're the only ones dancing," I pointed out, feeling suddenly self-conscious.
"You asked me," he reminded me with a grin.
"I didn't think we'd be the only two. That's a lot of pressure."
"Psh. No one cares." Harry laughed, leaning his head just above mine. I stared at his chest, resisting the urge to rest my head there.
Suddenly, Harry stopped, his grip loosening as he turned to a little girl standing shyly behind him, her small hand tugging at his pants leg.
"Hi, sweetie!" he greeted, kneeling down to her level.
Her toothless grin lit up her face.
"Are you lost?" he asked kindly.
She shook her head, pointing at a man searching nearby.
"Dance!" she declared, grabbing Harry's hands and clutching his long fingers tightly.
Harry laughed just as her dad hurried over.
He scooped her up. "Maddy! You can't sneak off like that!" Relief softened his voice.
"I'm sorry," he apologized to us.
Harry shrugged. "No worries! She just wanted to cut in on our dance."
The dad smiled politely.
"Actually," Harry said, "I owe Maddy a dance. If you don't mind."
"Really? You sure?"
"Absolutely."
Harry held out his hand again. Maddy grabbed it with enthusiasm, and together they began dancing to the band's new, faster tune.
I watched Harry—so effortlessly sweet—as he spun and laughed with the little girl. My cheeks ached from smiling so much.
The girl's dad stood beside me, smirking. I hadn't even noticed him before.
"Your boyfriend is really sweet," he whispered, jolting me from my daydream.
"Oh, he's not my boyfriend," I blushed, correcting him quickly.
"Well, darling, he's something special. Be grateful you know him."
I watched Harry finish the dance, hands clasped with Maddy as they waved goodbye to her dad.
"He is special, isn't he?" I said aloud, more to myself than anyone else.
Harry grinned as we walked back into the market crowd.
"She was adorable, right?" he chuckled.
"Is that your secret? Being good with kids?" I teased, nudging him.
His dimples flashed. "How'd you guess? I paid her to interrupt us."
I shoved his arm, laughing. "How many tricks do you have today, Harry?"
"The day's not over yet." That grin—it always made my stomach flutter.
That night, I smiled as I waved goodbye at our doors. I lingered, pretending to fumble with my keys as Harry slipped inside his apartment. The quiet click of his door closing echoed softly.
Inside, the dim kitchen light flickered on as I opened the fridge and grabbed a raspberry Smirnoff Ice—my go-to for unwinding. The sweet liquor slid over my tongue as I sipped, savoring the calm.
I stood by the window, looking out over the city skyline. The view wasn't spectacular, but beyond the brick buildings and passing hipsters heading for the subway, I could just make out the outlines of London's famous landmarks.
I thumbed through my only unpacked possession: my vinyl record collection. Pulling out my favorite, I set the needle down. James Taylor's soft, soulful voice filled the room. Cranking up the volume, I spun around my apartment, singing along and dancing with no one but myself.
I grabbed my phone and texted Casey.
Emma:
Might be drunk, but I think my neighbor likes me.
Casey:
Which one? Hot jerk or nice guy?
Emma:
Nice guy! We spent the day together. He's great with kids!
Casey:
Kids? His kid?
Emma:
No, a random kid danced with him at the park.
Casey:
Aww, so cute! Do you like him?
Emma:
Maybe... but he's my neighbor and my only friend. Trying to play it cool.
Casey:
Screw cool! No, just screw him!
Emma:
Casey!!
YOU ARE READING
Capture
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] You can't run forever, eventually you'll be captured. A dark past he's spent years running from threatens to swallow him whole after a simple knock on her door.
