TRACK (1/15) - This anthology series is inspired by The 1975's album, A Brief Inquiry Into Online Relationships. Each song will have its own chapter. The chapter will be written from my interpretation of the song while the song is playing, so if you want to listen to the song [on repeat lol] and read along, feel free to do so.
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.2038.
Harry swings the door open and steps into the small pub. The familiar chime of its ringer echoes in his ears, filling his chest with nervous joy. The pub didn't look much different to what he remembered, and it terrifies him how accurate they made it.
The pub is bathed in a pool of light that bounces off the bottles that line the back wall, a stark contrast from the rest of the dimly lit pub. The sharp air of hard liquor made it feel so real. The tables are occupied by a mirage of people; Harry reckons they're just pieces to complete the scene. They're not who he's here for anyway. His footsteps resonate throughout the room coupled with the faint noise of an old song coming from an old tuning radio.
Harry eyes the piece of wood broken off the edge of the bar; he still remembers where it was. It's exactly where it's supposed to be, but his fondness for its memory is interrupted when a woman walks into his line of vision.
Harry feels his lungs give into the weight of seeing her. He doesn't catch her face, but he recognizes her from the way her hair is tucked behind both ears in a low ponytail because that's how she wore her hair that night. Y/N, his beautiful Y/N. So, like the picturesque beauty he remembers her to be when he first met her in this pub. She stormed in visibly distraught, a little frightened, but relaxes when she's given a drink. Harry doesn't approach her right away, instead he lingers nearby just to watch her. He just wants to see her, be around her in a way that he couldn't anymore.
The man behind the bar had kind eyes that paid attention to Y/N as he spoke to her while polishing the glass he held. Harry couldn't hear what granted the merriment of their conversation, but he could hear her softly giggling from time to time, her head sometimes thrown back or hunched over.
It physically hurts. Harry's not sure why he's so terrified to look at her. He's convinced himself that looking at the back of her was enough. Just her being around– it's enough for him. When she stands, Harry barely notices, but before he knows it he's up on his feet ready to catch her after she gets caught on that piece of wood.
She spills half of her drink over Harry and squeals, eyes shut, bracing herself to fall, but is relieved to not feel the hard, sticky ground. Harry inhales sharply when he finally sees her face. For a moment she's doe eyed, startled and seemingly frail from nearly falling, but she looks up to the man who caught her and sees his gentle expression twisted with worry; his stare is so piercing, she thinks, but kind.
Harry can't speak. He hears her thanking him, and apologizing, still slightly out of breath from the adrenaline kick she just received. Harry is still holding her by her forearms, helping her up to one of the seats at the bar. A part of him knows he should let go of her, but he can't bring himself to.
She asks him to let her buy him a drink as a thank you. She's sweet for asking, but Harry doesn't drink anymore. Y/N doesn't push, and orders herself an Old Fashioned. Despite knowing this already, hearing her order brought Harry to smile as he chuckles quietly at the scene in front of him. The softest, prettiest girl he's ever seen ordering an Old Fashioned; something about it makes his heart flutter even now.
When Y/N gets her drink, she takes a small sip, then a large gulp. Anticipating what's to come, Harry reaches for a napkin and hands it to her just as she begins to cough. She thanks him, gently taking the napkin from him and tapping the corners of her mouth with it. Harry watches her the entire time, completely endeared by her demeanor.
