He was looking at me with those sparking green eyes, that by some turn of fate today were filled with tears. "What do you mean?", he said.
I couldn't put myself in a good place to answer that question. Too many images were going trough my mind, how he was looking at her, how she spoke to him about me.
"I mean Harry, that if you don't believe in us, then is better if I just go home", it was like he didn't know me at all.
His response came almost immediately, taking my hands in his, "Of course I believe in us darling, I believe in you, what you...".
"That's not kind of what I heard Harry, I know for a fact that I shouldn't have been eavesdropping" I admitted taking my hands off of his, to which he tried to touch me again "but you can't deny that you were being honest with your sister when you said that".
With his hand now on my shoulder, he started shaking his head vigorously. "No baby, I swear, I swear..." He began shuttering, a clear sign that he was either starting to get nervous or afraid, I was guessing the previous. "The only thing I wanted was to get to her to shut up, because she was annoying the fuck out of me" Him swearing was not an usual, not with me at least.
I stayed quiet a few second letting he view of him in the verge of crying in front of me sink in, thinking of the times we spent together and trying to figure out what were my next words going to be.
Because in that moment I knew, all we went trough was metanoia.
He changed all of me.
YOU ARE READING
She Metanioa
Hayran Kurgum e t a n o i a {meh-ta-noy-ah} ø Greek (n.) the journey of changing one's mind, heart, or way of life. A song, a concert, a letter, and it was all done, all changed in a matter of three hours. As soon as I stepped a foot on stage I had this feeling...
