Heroism (h.s.)

28.

“Do you think I’m going to get arrested?”

“What, for defending yourself?  I’d like to see them try.”

After explaining to Gus and Elaine about the incident with Cory, they were more than understanding and insisted that I go and have some time to relax a little.  Harry and I sit on the same park bench we sat on so many weeks ago when he told me more about who he was.  My legs are crossed, left knee bumping into Harry’s thigh and we both grip our recently purchased hot chocolates for warmth.

I bite my lip just for something to do.  “Technically, he wasn’t really threatening me though, was he?  I could’ve just ignored him.  Shit, Harry, he’s going to make my life hell.”

“No, he’s not.  Not if I have anything to do with it,” Harry says urgently, a determined look settling into his features.

“I appreciate that, Harry, but what about you?”

“What d’you mean?” he asks, eyebrows furrowing.  I’m momentarily distracted as Harry brings his hot chocolate up towards his mouth and drinks, pink lips pursing around the small lid as he swallows. 

Fuck.  Even when he drinks, he’s beautiful.

“Ummm,” I start intelligently, looking away from Harry in order to string a coherent sentence together.  “Sometimes I worry that you spend too much time looking after me and forget to look after yourself.”

Harry huffs out what seems to be a frustrated breath and leans his elbows onto his knees.  He roots his free hand into the mess of curls on his head, turning to look at me with those kind, bright eyes.

“Really, Alexa?  You worry about me worrying too much about you?”

It takes me a few extra moments to work out what he’s just said before I’m nodding my head because yes, that’s exactly what I worry about.  Harry’s so selfless all the time, constantly putting my needs before his own and while I’m eternally grateful, it also puts me on edge.  Sometimes those who help others are the ones who often need the most help themselves.

I watch as Harry moves his hand under his chin, fingers absent-mindedly toying with his bottom lip.  He scrunches and unscrunches his eyebrows before abruptly straightening up, shoulder bumping against mine.  He places his hot chocolate in his lap and holds it there with one hand, the other tapping gently against my thigh.

“Can I tell you a story?” he asks quietly, almost mumbling.  His tone sounds sombre and I am suddenly very, very alert.

“Sure,” I say nervously, staring at Harry with wide eyes.  He doesn’t look at me and my unease increases.

“During my speech at the wedding, I mentioned that I moved from England to Detroit four years ago.”

“Yeah, I remember,” I respond, trying not to let my mind dwell on the details from the rest of that night.

“But what I didn’t mention was why.  Mostly because it’s not really something I want to share with everyone.”

My heart starts to pound a little stronger in my chest, the feeling reverberating through my body.  

Harry continues.  “If you’ve done the math – which I’m sure you have, you’re a smart girl – you’ll know that I was seventeen when I left home for America.  I didn’t even get to finish high school because I just needed to get away,” he emphasises his words with a small tap to my thigh. 

“So you left your parents behind?” I interrupt without thinking, mentally scolding myself for doing so.

Harry frowns, lines pressing into his forehead and I fight the urge to push them away.  “That’s the thing I wanted to tell you, Lex.  My mum died when I was sixteen.”