Reasonable Jerk! ✔

62. Why Do You Lie?

Hello Lovies,

Sorry about the wait, I was a little busy with a few works for school.

Enjoy. :D xx

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***** Cristina's POV *****

Harry and I are on our way to the cemetery, the one where I was buried at. I asked him to take me there, so I could thank the man who helped me and I hope it will bring a few memories back.

Harry didn't want to at first, he's scared that it might be too much for me to handle. I had to argue with him for about ten minutes and had to appeal at the hatred he has towards whoever did this so he would agree. He did it after I told him that it might help me remember whoever did it.

"Harry, tell me two lies." I request, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled between us inside the car.

"What?" He asks, giving me a quick, amused and confused glace, before looking back at the road.

"Tell me two things that are lies." I explain and give him some time to think about something.

"I'm gonna go with what everyone thinks. I'm a heartless man that only uses girls for sex." He says as I look intently at him, searching for any uncommon signs on his body language that shows that he's lying and I actually get them after he tells me the second lie.

He blinks his eyes twice at the time, looks swiftly to the left and gives a swift squeeze on the wheel.

"Now tell me two truths." I say as we get out of the car and Harry waits for me to get to his side. 

We slowly walk in silence, side by side, further inside the cemetery.

"I'll kill whoever did this to you, when I find them." He says after knocking on the door to what I suppose to be the graveyard keeper's house.

 While Harry was telling the truths I didn't spot any of the signs that I saw earlier when he was telling me the lies. I actually realized that he also avoids eye contact while lying. While he was telling me the lies, he only looked at me at the end of the sentence, and when he was telling me the truths, he looked at me mid-sentence.

"Why-" He starts, but is interrupted by a voice.  

"Can I help you?" A man, that seems to be around his fifties, questions from behind us, making me and Harry turn around simultaneously.

"Are you the graveyard keeper?" Harry questions.

"Yes, and you are?" The man questions back, his face hard and slightly angry.

"I'm the girl you helped almost three weeks ago." I step forward and stretch my hand for the man to shake.

"You're one tough girl, aren't you?" The man smiles, losing all his heavy expression and shakes my hand, he then proceeds to do the same to Harry.

"I've been told before." I grin. 

The man, whose name I learned to be John, invites us inside and we follow him.

"I confess that when I was taking you to the hospital I wasn't expecting you to survive." John says, as me and Harry take a seat on the small couch. 

Due to its small size we have to squeeze there and sit really close to each other, I'm practically on his lap.

"Why?" I question, trying to distract myself from the urge I have to lean into Harry's chest.

"You were in a really bad shape. Whoever did that to you must have a really big hatred towards you." He man says, handing Harry a cup of coffee and sitting on a chair in front of us.