as it is || harry styles au

six

i v o r y

     My experience with Lena convinced me I needed to face Harry sooner rather than later. I couldn't let another day go by wondering if someone would confront me in the grocery store, at the school, in front of Jamie...

     On my way to dropping Mom off at work early the next morning, I asked her where I might be able to find Harry. She told me he worked at the community gardens until dusk when his family drive-in on the outskirts of town opened up.

     I didn't remember Harry ever having a green thumb when we were kids, but I knew he'd never pass up an opportunity to give back. Produce from the community gardens went directly to local food kitchens and to vendors at the weekend farmer's markets for profit that went right back into the gardens.

      After dropping Jamie off at school—which he was very happy to be returning back to because he had an amazing first day — I headed on over to the gardens located right behind City Hall. I hoped it wasn't too early in the morning for him to be there or else I'd be waiting out front until he showed up, and I was not looking forward to having to talk to every town regular that frequented the gardens.

      I parked in City Hall's parking lot and walked to the sidewalk leading to the expanse of land right behind the building. There were lots of trees bordering dozens of planter boxes and a large greenhouse. The planter boxes were full of color—from winter squashes to Brussels sprouts, turnips,
and kale.

     For some reason, I was surprised to see Harry's tall, lithe frame bent over a planter of iris flowers, pulling weeds. Luckily, he was the only one there. For it being the second time I'd seen him in six years, it sure felt a hell of a lot like the first. My mind continued to battle between wanting to return to its state of homeostasis in loving the shit out of the man and guarding up for war.

     I cleared my throat. "Harry?"

     I was close enough to see the hair on his arms stand on end in the morning light at the sound of my voice. That, or it was the forty-five degree chill he failed to dress appropriately for.

     To my dismay, he didn't turn around. The most he did to acknowledge my presence was pause for a moment or two. Then, he walked over to the next planter, weeds fisted in his hands.

     "Harry," I repeated, more stern this time.

     "Yeah." It was grunted out. I still didn't get a glance.

     "We should talk."

     "Busy."

     His mood was quite on par with his mood a couple days ago at the diner. His mood with me, that is. According to Mom, the Harry that I got was certainly not the Harry Jamie got which I was grateful for.

     "I meant, we need to talk."

     I got silence back. Frustration grew, but I also wanted to respect him and his space.

     "Well, if you can't talk, I can," I decided. "Please, can we keep our...conflict or turmoil or whatever is going on between us? I can't have what happened last night happen again. Certainly, not if Jamie is around."

     That got his attention. When he stood up straight and faced me, I held in a gasp. He looked almost as tired as Alden did yesterday, but utterly beautiful. Unfortunately, it had less to do with his physicality and more to do with...it being him.