Crossed Hearts | h.s

Thirty Three

Geneva walked briskly down the corridors, her strides long and her eyes facing ahead of her, not once glancing at the servants and courtiers that she passed by. She rounded a corner, the skirts of her dress swishing, and came to an abrupt stop.

Harry stood before her, his eyes full of wonder as he absorbed his love's disheveled state. Her eyes were full of tears, hands trembling, lower lip quivering. He reached out, taking her hand in his own to steady her. "Ginny?" he asked.

"Oh, Harry, everything is crumbling around me," she said softly. Without a care of who saw, she fell into his chest and allowed the tears that were building up in her eyes to slip onto his tunic as he held her close. "My sister hates me, my kingdom distrusts me, and I fear what Zabrina will do when she finds out about Nydale."

Harry closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Geneva, resting his chin on the top of her head. He hated seeing her so upset, feeling her body shake as she sobbed silently. He rubbed her back, wishing that he could take away some of her pain and endure it for her. "Shh," he said into her ear. "Everything will be fine. As long as we're together, we can overcome anything. You're not alone in this anymore."

She sucked in a breath as she tried to calm herself down, but it seemed useless. Nothing was as she had hoped it would be, except for the fact that Harry was by her side.

He pulled back, holding her shoulder with one hand and tipping her chin up with the other so she was looking at him. "Come with me," he said, flashing a sweet smile and reaching for her hand. He interlaced their fingers and began to walk down the corridor, nearly dragging her along behind him.

"Whe–where are we going?" she asked through a sniffle.

"You'll see," he said, grinning over his shoulder at her.

After weaving through the palace, they came upon the door leading to the field behind the palace. A guard at the door gave Harry a suspecting glare, but stood to attention as his eyes fell upon his queen. After a stern look from her, he opened the door and bowed as they walked past him, entering into the warm sunlight with a cheerier disposition.

Geneva looked around the decrepit field with a slight frown, faintly remembering the beauty that it once held. As a child, the wildflowers had always brightened her dreary days of studies, and the sun before an afternoon shower had warmed her cheeks as the rays kissed her skin. She sighed softly, releasing Harry's hand to walk ahead of him down the hill. Narrowing her eyes, she could see the rut in the ground where the stream once flowed, its trickling being music to her ears. For a moment, she swore she could see the faint figures of a younger version of herself and Harry, giggling and splashing in the water.

"Remember the day we met?" Harry asked, walking up to her side and snaking an arm around her waist. He pulled her into his side, feeling his heart sway as she leaned into him.

"Of course," she said with a smile. "And I'll never forget the day you left."

"Ginny—"

"Harry, you won't leave me again, will you?" she asked, cutting him off and turning to look up at him. Her eyes glistened with tears at the thought of waking up to find him gone. "I don't know what I would do without you."

He removed his hand from her waist and reached for her hands, clasping them tightly. "Geneva, I will never leave you." He leaned his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes with something deeper than love, if that was possible. "You are everything to me."

She inhaled a shaky breath, noticing how the energy between them changed. His eyes were still soft, but she could see a flash of darkness behind them—not the malicious darkness that she knew in the Hawthornes, but the darkness of lust. Her suspicions were proven fact when his hand wandered up to her waist, pulling her body into his own so the space between them was closed. She gulped, feeling nervous and unprepared, but allowed him to continue. And then, he pressed his lips to hers.