A Guide on How to Love Jules Everett

Chapter Nineteen

The Pessimist, The Realist, and The Optimist

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I FOUND HIM alone outside the club, his hands resting on the roadside railings and his eyes glancing towards the stars. His gaze was unwavering, unspoken words being exchanged between a man and balls of fire millions of lightyears away. When I stepped out onto the pavement, shoes hitting the hard ground, he still didn't turn. Yet, Harr knew that I was there without even having to turn around.

"You're late," he simply said. I could hear the teasing smile in his voice without having to see the expression which he wore.

"It's not midnight yet," I reminded. "So technically, I'm still on time."

I strolled over to his side, resting my forearms on the railings just as Harr was doing. Despite that, his eyes never left the inky skies. He blinked but other than that, his pupils were fixated on the visible constellations. He was counting them, drawing the shapes out in his mind, no doubt. Stars were something Harr had always been fascinated with.

"Happy birthday, Harr."

He sighed, letting out a deep breath of air before finally tearing his eyes away from the heavens so as to face me. When our gazes collided, I had to brace myself in order to not look away. For some reason, the look Harr sent my way tonight made me feel chills down my spine. There was something different in his expression, some hidden words written between the gaps of his irises that I couldn't quite make out. Nevertheless, it was still kind, as usual. Filled with the same familiar affection and mirth that seemed too radiant for this wretched world.

"Thank you. It wasn't much of a happy birthday until you finally arrived."

I gasped softly when Harr placed his hand on my head, the warm palm of his hand gently ruffling my hair. It tousled a few strands, careful not to tangle them and instead gently combing through as if I was made of delicate china. It was comforting, like a mother's embrace or a lover's kiss. It held the same tender affection which I craved so desperately for. When he finally removed his hand, I immediately missed the soothing sensation. He seemed hesitant about withdrawing his hand as well. However, it still returned to his side, dangling.

I cleared my throat, immediately placing a bright smile on my face in an attempt to hide whatever conflicting emotions that hinted to my confusion. "Such a charmer," I teased. "Careful. One day, you might just charm someone's heart until it reaches its breaking point."

"Never intentionally," he responded. "Perhaps if fate is cruel, I'll be the one charmed into a love spell instead."

Harr's words held a double meaning in them. I could see them dangling off of his lips. It needn't be spoken but a part of me understood that Harr wasn't joking. It wasn't the playful quip that he wanted to portray it as. Each and every word in that sentence was heavy with truth. I didn't want to think what was further, what was beyond those words and the meanings it held. If I ventured too far, I would be met with nothing but a cliff.

I had always been afraid of the fall.

So I waved his words off, batting them away as if they were nothing but a puff of second-hand smoke from a cigarette blown onto my face. I paired that with a laugh, dainty, small, and painfully insincere. If Harr noticed, he didn't comment on it.

"Well, I would love to stay longer but I'm sure your guests will resent me for taking up too much of your time. But before I go," I held out the bags that held his presents, "Jules and I got something for you. I hope they're to your liking."

He received them gracefully, clutching the bag tightly in his hands with a brilliantly cheeky grin. "I'm sure I'll love whatever you two troublemakers got me." However, his smile soon fell, fingers reaching out to tuck loose strands of my hair behind my ear. I shivered at the touch, surprised. "But something's wrong, isn't there? You're not acting like yourself, Aiko."