The Sight Of Eternity With You

Which to Bury?

"But right now I just don't like you
Cause you took this too far
Make your decision and don't you dare think twice
Go with your instincts along with some bad advice
This didn't turn out the way I thought it would at all
You blame me but some of this is still your fault"
-Which to Bury; Us or the Hatchet? Relient K

****

Harper looked around the room, dozens upon dozens of hammocks strung around with some hanging above each other like bunk beds, cots lining the walls in front of overflowing bookshelves. A table with a large wireless sat in the corner, books and cauldrons strewn around on neighboring tables. Harper absentmindedly grasped George's shirt, stepping closer to his back as she looked around, trying to remain invisible to the gathered crowd. Her eyes roving the room, taking it in as the portrait swung close behind Angelina, the buzzing of voices thundering in her ears.

George took her hand in his, still facing away and speaking with Lee adamantly as Harper leaned her forehead against his arm, closing her eyes and tapping her nails against the back of his hand. She couldn't distinguish the conversations around her, the noise was loud, her heart was loud, her breathing was loud.

Make it stop

She opened her eyes to watch her chest begin to fall in a short pattern, adrenaline filling every pore of her body. Pressing herself closer to George, the matchstick honey scent cocooning her did nothing to still her anxieties.

"Harpsichord," George's voice jolted her out of the thundering chaos of her mind, his voice a soft bell that stilled her breathing. Brought her back to her body, back to the present moment.

Looking up, she met George's wry smile as he glanced over his shoulder at her, "alright?"

Harper only nodded, trying to give her best smile.

George turned around, reaching around her neck, he clasped a silver chain, his smile widening.

"This wasn't how I wanted to begin wearing a ring...but...." George gave a wink, holding up his left hand as he slipped a matching white gold band to his ring finger. "No better time to get use to the feeling. I made it like yours, we'll know each other are safe tonight."

Her heart stopped at the second sentence.

Harper opened the locket, a photo of George in his shop robes, a smile on his face—slightly tired and worn, but still giving his best smile to the photographer.

"I love it."

George pressed his lips to her forehead, his hands resting on her arms, "I love you."

His tone and the way he pressed his lips to her skin made her heart begin to tear itself in half, sweat forming on the nape of her neck. His hands trembled when they gently squeezed her arms.

Don't make it sound like this is our last day.

"I love you," Harper smiled back. The lump in her throat stuttering her inhale, taking a step closer to him. Forgetting that dozens of people were discussing the grave matter of an impending fight around them.

"Harpsichord.....I don't think we have a lotta time—"

"—don't talk like that," Harper hissed, meeting his gaze—the amber melting in his stare as he gave a smile.

He pressed his lips to her cheek, "before it's too late. You should go before someone notices."

"What?" Harper's brows knitted together, George smiled and kissed her once more.

"I'll see you shortly."

A hand on her wrist pulled her away from him, Harper looked at the back of Fred's head with a deadly glare.