Harry

Chapter 11

The next day I worked a long shift at Serendipitea. I chuckled dryly under my breath as Theon shamelessly chatted up a table of young girls, leaving me to do the brunt of the work of course. I was scrubbing a table for all I was worth, determined to make it gleam when the delirious giggles from Theon's table of girls suddenly hushed. I glanced up absently, before quickly looking again. Harry stood in the entrance to Serendipitea, looking as carelessly and flawlessly handsome as he always seemed to. I couldn't stop myself from scanning him head to toe, taking in his dark denim jeans, and the jumper that clung to his broad shoulders before tapering down to his lean torso. He scanned the café, his arresting gaze passing over me impassively as if I was a complete stranger to him, before he strode to the same seat he'd occupied in the corner of the room last time and sitting down smoothly. He seemed to either be unaware of, or studiously ignoring, that almost every eye followed his movements as he fished a book out of his bag, opened it up and was promptly immersed in it.

I glanced at Theon, who's eyes were wide with recognition as they darted between Harry and I. He gestured to where Harry sat and raised his brows in a concerned question; want me to take this one? I shook my head and headed over, slinging my cleaning cloth over my shoulder and wiping my inexplicably sweaty hands on the sides of my apron. I checked with a quick glance that Mike was nowhere around to shout at me for shirking work and slipped into the seat opposite him.

"Hello stranger." I drawled out with an antagonising grin. His icy green gaze cut to me, looking neither happy nor particularly surprised to see that I'd decided to join him. I absent-mindedly noted how the dark, forest green of his thin jumper clung nicely to his lean, muscular frame and emphasised the arctic mint of his eyes.

"Seriously?" He muttered under his breath, shifting slightly away from me in his seat.

"Yes, I'm very seriously saying hello to you." I responded tilting my head. "I can say it in a funny voice instead if you'd like, would that be more acceptable to you?" I said with false sweetness.

"No, but it may entertain me so have at it." He said with disdainful disinterest.

"What, got tired of kicking puppies and shitting on babies?" I fired back absently, trying my hardest to keep any malice or bite out of my tone, but with the vague feeling that the conversation had spiralled out of my control from the very second I'd sat down.

"My foot was starting to hurt."

I couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped me and cast him a look of reluctant amusement which he didn't bother to return. I sighed and lapsed into silence, idly tracing patterns on the table before us while he continued to stare stonily at his book, barely acknowledging me.

"So weird coincidence huh?" I whispered eventually. He cast me the most fleeting look possible. He knew I meant my relationship with Sam without asking.

"An unpleasant coincidence you mean." He replied under his breath as if speaking to himself.

"Hey." I exclaimed and poked him with my pen. He cast me a dangerous glare. I smiled mischievously and studied him for a moment, allowing my gaze to roam over his face as his did mine. He studied me so intently it made me feel like I'd never been truly looked at before. I coughed lightly while averting my gaze, my cheeks feeling curiously warm, and I turned to scan the café again. I took a deep breath before I spoke.

"Look I know you don't like me. But maybe, we could try to get along. I mean, I like Sam. And you like Sam. And I know it would make Sam happy if we could be civil. I'm guessing that's why you're here, because he gave you the talk about wanting us to get along too." I said pausing, waiting for him to say something. He remained silent but the small flicker in his otherwise impassive gaze was all the confirmation I needed. "So maybe we can try that, and who knows you might even find out I'm not that bad. You know, maybe." I finished softly, trying to act as if his answer didn't really matter to me. There was a pause.

"Maybe." He said quietly.

"Cool." I said casually and stood up taking a deep breath. Our eyes held and met, for a moment, chocolate boring into green. He tilted his head in an almost imperceptible nod. I held my breath as I returned it and then spun away to tend to my ignored customers. I chuckled awkwardly when I apologised to an elderly woman for the delay and she gestured to Harry with a saucy wink and told me that if they'd looked like that back in her day she'd ignore her customers too. He didn't outwardly react to her rather over-loud comment, his expression remaining as cool as ever, except for an almost invisible pink flush tipping his high cheekbones. Was he blushing? Cold, impenetrable Harry? I grinned to myself at the thought as I slid a cup of coffee in front of him on the table. He looked up startled.

"I didn't..." He started to say, but I held out my hand.

"On the house." I said before turning away.

"Oh, and don't worry. It's black." I said over my shoulder, with a small smile. The tip of his mouth twitched in amusement before he coughed and stared down at the coffee as if it were a complicated math problem rather than an obvious olive branch. I rolled my eyes and then tried to concentrate as fully as I could on not incurring Mike's ire, despite the way Harry's presence seemed to pulse like a beacon. I returned from a smoking break to find he'd left without a word.