All Along [H.S]

Three

The subway ride has taken short 30 minutes, and then another five to walk to the front of restaurant. The sun is still shining, despite the clock moving closer and closer to eight. The light warms my bare shoulders and cheeks. I am carrying my cardigan over my arm, hoping to suck as much of the sun into me as possible - its light always leaves me feeling happier. I am a summer person deep to the bone, and always fall madly in love with the heat, the food, the atmosphere and the short (but wild) nights. Summer is, and will always be, the best time of the year. This year, perhaps even the greatest.

The clock reads 08:07pm when I enter through the glass door, and find myself in a cooled rustic designed restaurant. The air has a nice temperature, and is filled with the sound of chatter, laughter and cutlery and above that, the smell of well-cooked food creeps my way. I breathe in deeply, and let my eyes wander over the many faces seated by the tables. I can not seem to find Harry’s.

As I stand there in my own searching haze, a handsome blonde - and very blue eyed - waiter approaches me. “How can I help you?” He asks politely. My eyes instantly search downward and lands on his name-tag. It reads Matt. Short and simple.

“I am meeting someone,” I then reply distantly, “But he does not seem to have shown up yet.” I glance over Matt’s shoulder, but neither this time is Harry anywhere to be seen.

“Miss Stark - is it?” Matt carefully tries.

I look back at him, “Yes.”

His lips pull up in a smile, “Well then your date-“

“- He’s not my date,” it flies out of me, and for a moment I wish I had not said it, because it is not of any importance to waiter Matt - but then again, clearing the fact that we are not dating, would maybe stop him from sharing rumours… Or perhaps he never even thought about it. 

Matt chuckles a little. “If you say so.”

It is the second time that day someone has told me, “If you say so.”

He then smiles, “follow me, miss.” And I do. I follow him further back into the restaurant, where the wooden tables and metal chairs, are replaced with diner boots and bigger seatings. This part of the restaurant is just as filled as the other one. Though the parties are bigger here. Once I get a few steps into the back room, I hear my name being called out over the heavy cloud of chatter. My eyes shoot away from a nearby group of friends, and shortly search for the sound. There Harry stands, by the side of a diner booth with a wide smile painted across his face and longer hair than last time I saw him. It still falls in nicely tamed curls and is slicked back. I break into a grin. Matt lets me pass him, as we get closer to the booth Harry has chosen for us to be seated in.

I walk fast up to him, pull up on my tiptoes and swing my arms around his neck. I can feel people stare, but it is an attention he is used to and when he sneaks his arms around my waist and pulls me closer - I knew he does not mind showing the world that we are close. He smells nice. A good, and probably very expensive, perfume. It is different than the one had worn in Christmas. Getting used to seeing him to seldom is weird, even his smell seems to change. But I manage to deal with that. We hug for a little while, until I feel bad for blue eyed Matt, that patiently stands waiting behind me. I pull away from Harry, still with the grin of joy lighting up my face.

“It is so good to see you again,” I breathe happily.

He chuckles softly, “you too, Mel. You too.”

Once Harry and I slip into the booth, and Matt has gone off to get us some menus, I relax a little. I do not know what to say at first - I just look at him. He is smiling. The kind of smile that reaches his eyes and leaves the light green colour shining. The silence hangs over us for about fifteen seconds, until Harry speaks; “Your hair has gotten longer.”