Dealing With Absence » h. styles au

32ᴺᴰ CHAPTER

                                                   32ᴺᴰ CHAPTER 

  "Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time" 

The rain comes slightly and then surrenders to two oblivious people – running through messy steps and tangled legs, arms curled around each other and feet tripping over feet. At some point, one of them running backwards ends up on unsteady limbs and trip overs that lead to both of them pressed together against some random wall, breath hitched.

The storm holds on until the moment they step into a car, and then it falls back down strongly, tapping against the roof of the cab and whipping against the windows with a deafening sound – by then they can barely hear what’s on the radio as the drive goes on for the next twenty minutes.

Harry manages to find some decent restaurant just before nightfall, so they watch the rain washing out the light little by little, sitting at one of the unclaimed outside tables, completely ignoring the wind hitting contrasting against their skin, focusing on the warmth of the hot chocolate in hands instead. (He keeps glancing at Elisha from time to time, nose reddish by its end and hair messed up by the whirls of the air around her. She looks adorably cuddly).

He keeps looking at her, feeling his hands itching as if on guilt. It shouldn’t burn holes into his pocket where he’s folded the pictures he’d taken – pictures of Leesh taking pictures of absolutely nothing; pictures of the woman smiling privately at herself as she walked ahead of him and eyed curiously all the details around her; pictures of her laugh when the drizzle started falling, just before he took off on her direction and they both became a mess out of the attempt to remain dry. It does, though. It does feel like it’s burning holes in his pocket, feels like he’s done something completely wrong and is fidgeting to keep his secret.

But if she’s kept a picture of him, why can’t he return the favour? (With maybe one more. Or five.)

When their early-dinner comes to an end, Harry sneaks out with the excuse of going to the bathroom and comes back with the bill already paid, smiling unabashedly at Leesh who tries to talk her way into paying as well. He dodges away from it with the promise to let her pay tomorrow’s lunch, which she easily agrees to, but obviously won’t happen. He’s got principles.

Stepping onto the streets, the storm has already ceased, turned into a slight drizzle instead. Harry’s got a tiny hand wrapped around his arm before he can even notice, decides to subtly slide it away from him as he brings his arm up to rest over her opposite shoulder and pull her in.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers as he buries his left hand into the pocket of his jacket, tilts his head slightly to check if Leesha’s done as requested, and finds her with a tiny frown and eyes closed nonetheless.

They keep walking for a while more, Harry guiding her silently until they take a turn at a corner and he sighs at himself, the sight not quite like he’d imagined. He should’ve known better, though.

“See, I had a complete different thing in mind, so don’t blame me-” he’s babbling before he feels fingers tugging at his hand where it lays on her shoulder, cuts himself off midsentence only to realise Elisha has already opened her eyes. She looks dazed. “And… Welcome to Bank Street Gardens.”

For a few seconds, she keeps looking at him, eyes bored into his features, analysing his reaction. She then dares a tiny, sarcastic smile, just for a few seconds and right after she’s looking out at the lightened-up-by-poles street, scrutinising each detail of each dark corner, where the light has barely reached.