Cerise sat behind a white vanity in her dressing room; eyes illuminated with the joy of her confession and heart aglow with love. It was only natural that her happiness couldn’t resist creating a resplendent smile as soon as Harry walked in, with a grin to match hers. She quickly stood up to receive his long, sweet embrace.
“You were amazing,” he told her sincerely, his eyes still a little watery.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her heart drowning out the sound of her own voice. Of course he hadn’t known the significance of the mime. How could he have? Half of the happiness she had felt boiled down to disappointment; the other half relief.
“You were perfect,” he went on, dimples abysmal. “Like, seriously, perfect.” He grabbed her face and planted a crushing kiss on her cheek; releasing a thousand butterflies in her stomach as her damned blush crept back.
“Thank you,” she repeated, with all due sincerity again. She wiped a cooling finger across her brow. “I’m terribly hot,”
“I’m always hot after shows too,” Harry agreed, still smiling cheerily. “Would you like me to get you water?”
“Oh, could you?” Cerise smiled and blew him a kiss on his way out.
Lee palpably followed not too far behind, the wall of a man neurotically checking Harry’s surroundings for him.
“Give me a few more feet,” Harry told him, feeling a little claustrophobic in the dark hallway. Lee slowed his pace respectively.
He heard murmurs from the room that hosted the water machine. Harry quickly ducked behind a wall where he wouldn’t be visible; pressing his body tightly up against it until not a millimeter of space existed between his back and the wall.
“What the hell was Cerise thinking?” he heard a girl mutter.
Harry’s heart sank to his stomach. Who would dare to speak ill of Cerise?
“I don’t know, but Miss Hale is going to be pissed,” voiced another.
What did Cerise do? Harry felt like yelling to them, but his logic advised him otherwise.
“I wonder who she was doing it to?”
“Well, I couldn’t see anyone in the direction she was looking.”
“Hmph. Well, we all know that was the ‘I love you’ mime. No mistaking it.”
Good fortune had it that no-one saw Harry as the group of girls walked passed him, still clad in their performing attire. Harry’s head throbbed and his eyes bulged at the news, not processing it at first.
He walked slowly over the short white machine with the paper cups. Lethargically — as his head was spinning — he pulled back the blue lever over one of the cups, letting the cool water spill into it until it was almost superfluous. He didn’t bother getting a second for himself, as his mind was groggy and he felt sure that he would only spill it anyway.
Cerise sat with her chin in her hands at the vanity, her cloudy eyes staring into nothingness. Her eyes demurely fluttered over to him, and she smiled faintly as he gave her the cup. “Thank you,”
Harry simply nodded, frowning slightly now in his famous broody countenance. What should I do? He thought frantically. Should I confront her right now about it, tell her I know what it means?
