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Harry Osborn was walking along the streets at midnight with in his luxury suit and polished shoes, the cold misty air making him tense his body to keep from shivering. Unlike any other place he's been to, New York stayed alive all day all night. At least he wasn't completely alone. By now, everyone would see him as the ineligible corrupt son of the legendary man of the year that is Norman.
Did he deserve it? He still couldn't say for himself. But he just focused his mind on the fact that he actually thought it was Juliet's fault that his father didn't care about him. When really, it was Juliet who tried to get them closer. But it was Norman who kept pushing him away. Norman, and Norman alone. He hated him. With everything he's got, he hated him.
He somehow found himself standing in front of the Empire State Building and looking up while he reminisced on Peter's 9th birthday. Juliet had gotten Peter the whole Empire to themselves and celebrated his birthday just the three of them. They'd blown bubbles and let hundreds of helium balloons go up in the sky. The funny part was when Peter tried to do some trick at the ledge and Harry tried to push him off as a joke. It was probably the only time he'd seen Peter so scared.
Before he knew it, he was on his way to the elevator, ignoring the security that nodded at him insipidly. There was only one person he had any intention of seeing at the top of the building, and only one person who'd be able to go that he knew of anyways.
"You're still in love with me and you still won't admit it."
That sentence pierced his heart like a needle to a cushion. It made him feel his heart thumping from his foot all the way to the top of his head, making it harder for him to intake a good amount of air. Then the elevator doors opened and he unsurely stepped out. It was a small space between the elevator and the edge, one trip and he was done for.
He encircled the space and saw Juliet sitting down on the dirty concrete, her knees up and resting on the elevator and her fingers tapping away on the short ledge. Her hair descended to her waist beautifully as she gazed down at the city that never sleeps.
"Juliet." he called, not wanting to startle her. Okay, maybe he did a little bit for some dramatic effect that he'd always seen in love stories. Hopefully, his love story had a happy end. Juliet looked over her shoulder and spotted Harry right behind her.
She sighed and returned her gaze down and leaned her head on the elevator's exterior. "What, did you come to tell me you ran my uncle out of town? Enslaved my grandfather? Exploited me to the president?"
"No." he answered truthfully. "I came to say I'm sorry." He took a seat behind her. And it took a while but she decided to turn her body around and face him, looking him dead in the eye.
Juliet was waiting for him to say more. An apology alone didn't mean anything. "I was an asshole. I assumed the worst of you. But it was only because.. only because..."
Harry found it incredibly hard to express his true feelings to someone if not to belittle them, it had been years since he had to. He needed to word it right and he wished he'd recited this in his head first because he was no good at confrontations. Instead, he reached into his blazer's inner pocket and pulled out a white envelope stamped with the date 07/24/20.
"I wrote you hundreds of letters at boarding school. We weren't allowed to have any phone and computer labs were monitored. I sent them to countless of addresses in Australia I thought would be yours but they were all returned." Harry admitted, eyes genuine and clear staring up at hers.
Juliet pulled her knees up and crossed her arms as the chilly air decided to go their way. "What did you write?"
Harry ripped the envelope open and saw his old, hand-written, cursive form of cringe-worthy mail. But it came from his heart.
"Dear, Juliet. It's my 20th birthday today. And still, everything is miserable in my life. I haven't had a single friend since boarding school and until now that I'm in Harvard. I've been drowned in the toilet, pushed into a garbage can, and bullied all the time. My life is so miserable here, Jules. My father's assistant called for the first time in five years earlier. My father's dying. Peter and I haven't talked at all since I left. You're the only person I want to talk to, the only one who would understand. Where are you? Why haven't you tried to contact me? I thought you were my best friend? Have you forgotten me already? I miss you so much, Jules. Love, Harry."
Harry hiccuped in between his words, trying not to let his rigorous crying get in the way of his sentences. His palms were sweating, his breath disheveled and as ashamed as he was for pouring all his innermost emotions out to Juliet, she needed to hear it. Since she never bothered to ask how he was when he was away.
Juliet gulped raggedly. "You should've sent it, Hare. I would've talked to you."
"Talked to me? You knew, Juliet. You knew my dad was dying, you knew he already died. You knew how miserable I would be away from you. All I ever wanted was to talk to you and all you ever did was avoid me. You never even tried." Harry broke down, his sobs becoming impenetrable for air to come in as he laid his hands on the ground for support.
"I didn't know how to talk to you or even think about you after what I did. I was ashamed of what I'd done. But I missed you so much." Juliet let the welling tears fall, coming out tinted with her mascara as her jaws struggled to stay calm. She lowered her head onto her knees and cried.
"What you said earlier, about me being in love with you. You were right. I've been in love with you ever since I can remember. But you never seemed interested. I guess that's why I was so quick to hate you." Harry confessed with mixed emotions.
Juliet raises her head up slowly and smiled through her glassy eyes. "Harry, I've been in love with you since you tripped in lacrosse and got kicked out and vowed to never play any sports again so you played with me at my dollhouse everyday. I love you, Harry. Always have, always will."
