TO FEEL AGAIN [A Christmas Special]

Chapter 3: Avocado Hater.

Chapter 3 is here and the pictures are above are Harry's aesthetic for this story and the flat. Happy reading &  Happy Holidays x

There's an awkward silence in the living room as Salma repeatedly sips her hot chocolate and gazes into your eyes with judgement and worry at the same time. It's like she's psychoanalysing you and waiting for a glimmer of truth to pop up in your eyes. You look around and slowly clear your throat, waiting for this nonsense to stop.

"So, he fancies you?" her voice is stern.

"I don't think so," you murmur.

"Oh, that sounded like a question," she shakes her head. "Darling, he fancies you."

"He doesn't," you repeat.

"You don't speak for a man, his actions do," Salma is warning.

"I can't believe you have a point," you roll your eyes.

"Exactly, Harry fancies you," she's standing up with a shrug.

"Did you hear everything I shared?" your voice shakes.

"Of course he's defensive and rude, peep his condition babes," she reminds you.

A huge part of you knows she's right and you cannot judge him for being protective of his heart; he's probably been through hell with his condition and it might be hard for him to lean into whatever feelings you're assuming he feels. It doesn't excuse his rudeness but it makes it a little more understandable.

It's been a week since your last encounter with Harry and you're not sure what to feel because a lot can change in a week and you're worried if you're still attracted to him or if he even remembers you.

Okay, it's not like he's almost kissing every customer, or is he?

There's a wheel turning in your head as Salma pulls you into your room to see your outfit options laid out on your bed. It's Stevie's dinner and she made sure to ring to remind you as her guest. There's no theme and she repeatedly mentioned it being intimate and just you guys because she forgot to invite some other friends.

Old age, she claims.

A part of you isn't bothered about dressing up fancy because it's a small dinner and he really cannot see you. You cringe at the lovely outfits and wriggle your way out of Salma's gentle grasp.

"I don't want to dress up," you protest.

"I support nudity but London is bloody damn cold love," she chuckles.

"Shut-up, I just don't feel like dressing up," you fold your arms.

"Yeah because he can't see you, right?" she asks.

You slowly nod and bite down your lip in guilt.

"Okay, how about you dress up so you can feel good, that sounds nice," she smiles.

Salma is someone that might be the craziest in the room but she's probably the most understanding person you've encountered and she somehow knows how to say the right things at the right time. She gently puts an arm around you and turns you to the outfits waiting to be chosen.

"I just feel like I'm forcing myself into his life," you confess.

"Don't say that, you barely know each other," she clarifies.

"Exactly, so I shouldn't be doing dinner with them," you panic.

Salma groans in frustration.

"You were invited, you're not breaking in!"