Trial and Error

Rosie

Harry: I'm at the door. Open up?

I smiled brightly as I turned off the stove to let the food I was cooking cool down. I all but ran to the door and swung it open to reveal him standing there, black jeans, and a black hoodie with his hood up. He smiled at me softly and I moved aside to let him in.

"Did you find the apartment okay?" I asked. He chuckled and nodded.

"I have been here before," he replied. I scoffed at my own obliviousness and nodded.

"Of course," I mumbled. We stood there for a couple of seconds, not saying anything. I nodded and moved down the hallway into the kitchen, turning to make sure he was following.

"I erm," I began, "I don't know if you still like it, but I made your favourite."

He sat down at the breakfast counter with an eyebrow raised as he gazed at me, and I smiled before I plated a bowl of bacon carbonara and placed it in front of him.

He smirked, his face showing recognition and reminiscence. He nodded and combed his hair back before he glanced up at me, quickly looking back at his bowl and picking up the fork. He licked his lips and took a bite before he hummed in approval, and nodded while licking his lips and chewing. I smiled, silently praising myself for remembering.

"Thanks," he said, as I plated my own food.

"No problem," I smiled. We sat at the counter, eating in silence for a while before he cleared his throat and looked up.

"I meant what I said," he mumbled, "that we shouldn't be associating with each other anymore. I'm not the same Harry you used to date in high school, Rose. I've changed."

I shrugged, "so have I? Everyone changes after high school."

He shook his head, "no. It's different."

"What's so different about you then?" I asked.

He looked at me unsure.

"You don't want to know," he replied.

"I called you here because I want to know, Harry. I've been separated from you for so long, you walked out on us without an explanation - I mean, you did give an explanation - but I need more than that. I deserve more than that," I vented.

He bit his lip and sat in silence, staring at the counter in front of him. His eyes glistened as he lost himself in his own world of thought and let his silence become his new home. I watched as his mind reeled with questions and concerns about whether he should tell me. I knew his mannerisms like the back of my hand and luckily enough, some of his mannerisms hadn't faded, and I was still able to tell what he was thinking.

However, when I noticed that he had been quiet for longer than necessary, I sighed and stood up and walked to the fridge, opening it to get some chilled water.

"I'm a street fighter," he blurted out, causing me to turn to him, "I dropped out of university after my parents died and I left you. I don't know what led me to it, but a couple of months after I moved to New York, I became a street fighter."

"Like," I started, moving to sit down again, "is that the illegal fights? Like underground?"

He nodded, "it's dangerous, though Rose. Which is why I can't have you near me."

"Why?"

"Because if you're near me, we're going to get involved with each other again and that's not going to be good for your own safety," he said, bluntly. I widened my eyes and looked at him, feeling my heartbeat increase slightly. I took a deep breath and looked at him.