Trick of the Light

Part VIII

April 2019

As Harry made the familiar turn off Santa Monica onto Beverly Boulevard, the Proclaimers blasting from the stereo, he couldn't contain the grin that threatened to take over his face. He'd barely been back in LA four hours, but it was four hours too long. 

He would absolutely walk a thousand miles, and he'd been ready to walk from LAX if it meant getting out of the horrific freeway traffic. But he'd done it all with a smile, because he was finally, finally back.

The last few weeks had been long, and longing, even being with some of his favorite people doing some of his favorite things. They'd made some real progress in the studio, and he spent time with his mum, and his sister, and he made matcha in the mornings, and he even slept some.

And in every single in between, he thought about Ophelia. Her touch, and her taste, and all the things he hadn't let himself think about in...well, quite some time. He thought about that, and he thought about what all of it might look like now that they couldn't take back what had happened - more things he had packed away and buried, more than once. And while he wasn't any closer to an answer, he was finally, physically closer to her than he had been in nearly a month. Right now that was enough.

By the time Harry made it past CBS security into the studio, he was actually whistling to himself. He pulled the cap down tighter over his newly shorn locks and strode purposefully, hoping he might make it to the production offices unnoticed. The only person he made meaningful eye contact with was Isaac, who, upon seeing what Harry clutched in his hands, only smirked and nodded.

Harry ducked his head a little in acknowledgement, his heart doing a jig as he rounded the corner. He paused in the doorway of the very last office, content to simply watch her at work for a moment.

Lia was fully engrossed in one of her two computer screens, lips moving just slightly as she read. Her gaze lowered to the clipboard balanced on her belly, swiping the pen tucked behind her ear and jotting something down before tapping it to her chin in contemplation.

He didn't know how she could possibly be more beautiful every time he came back to her, but here they were.  

"Your focus is a bit intimidating," Harry finally spoke up from where he leaned against the frame. It wasn't - not like it used to be, anyway - and he was sure the dimples deepening in his cheeks when she looked up gave him away.

He was also quite sure he didn't imagine the way her eyes lit up at the sight of him.

"When did you-"

"Early. My meeting got bumped so I took the red eye," he explained, glancing out into the hallway before stepping fully inside and lowering his voice even further. "I didn't want to wake you."

Lia made a face, pushing herself to her feet and arching her back as she stretched. "I was probably awake."

He gave her a pointed look. "Need your rest."

"Not much of that happening these days," she assured him. "But I did keep my word about not watching the rest of Twin Peaks until you got back, so-" She paused, eyes suddenly widening as her gaze swept over him. "Your hair!"

Harry shrugged as Lia moved close enough to carefully lift the cap from his head to inspect his  curls, suddenly a bit coy under her attention. He could feel himself flush when she moved closer still and quietly, next to his ear, said "I like it."

"A little spring cleaning or summat," he mumbled, catching her elbow and keeping her close. "Hey. Missed you."

Lia blinked, swallowed. "Missed you too," she confessed quietly. Her gaze fell to his mouth for a fraction of a second before shifting lower still to the familiar fast food cup clutched in his other hand and clearing her throat. "What've you got there?"