Palas 3

1 - "Harry."

It has been three years since I have seen his face in the flesh. That day I spied on him in the airport, making sure that he'd leave. The way his hair had blown when he walked up the stairs of the aeroplane is etched into my soul. He was supposed to keep away though, not end up in town after all this time. 

For some reason I'm spying on him again after all these years although there's no need to, really. He knows I'm coming in to work, but I'm glad that I took the moment to watch him from the boulevard, hidden by the masses of people, so that I know what to expect. The one thing that surprises me the most is his hair. It was long when he left, but he has cut it short. There's barely any curl left.

I'm not sure if I find it an improvement or not, I'll have to wait and see it up close and personal. Liam told me that he was coming in and then I tried hard not to be bothered by the news. Now that he's here, I feel that was a stupid thing to even try. 

My hands shake as I push open the door to the tower. I wonder what he thinks of it now that it has been rebuild. He'll like that we fixed the glass, but I don't think he likes that the couch is gone and that nothing has replaced it. 

Stepping into the tower that once belonged to us, a place where we shared many days and nights together, is suddenly nerve wracking. One time we even had sex on the exact desk he's leaning on as he looks over the schedule with Liam. I'm glad that he doesn't notice me first so that I can take the time to adjust to being in the same room with him. It's overwhelming, even after all these years and after all that has happened before he left and since then. 

How does this go? How do you greet someone you haven't spoken to in years but once shared something so special with? 

"Harry," I blurt out. 

Apparently that's the way you greet someone after years of not speaking. 

When he looks over his shoulders I have to agree with my earlier suspicion that I liked his long hair better. I might have fantasized about touching it, if only briefly without him seeing it. That's impossible now that it is cut short and for some reason that saddens me.

"Alex," he says with a bit of surprise in his voice. 

My eyes shoot to him for a second but then back to Liam for reassurance. These days it calms me to look at Liam, Harry doesn't make me feel calm anymore. 

"How've been?" He wonders as he strides towards me.

It's as if I am in a movie and the whole world is set still and he's the only one moving. All I can do is watch him end up in front of me, unsure how to greet me properly. Probably because I am frozen to the ground. He doesn't do anything and instead waits for my answer. 

"Good, fine, you know, and you?"

"Good as well," he says and I already feel as if this is the dumbest conversation I have ever had. 

"So... What brings you here?"

"Oh, just visiting my friends," he answers and I can't help but feel like he means everyone here except me. It's not as if we kept in touch after he left and I still consider him a friend. Far from it. So it shouldn't bother me, but it does.

"Good," I say realizing we have used that word too much. "Great, of course. Uh Liam?" I turn myself to him. He's gaping at us with his mouth open and has to shake his head at the mention of his name. After rolling my eyes he gives me a nod to show he's listening. "Can I have the walky-talky?"

"Sure." He gives me the thing lying next to him and I grab it, brushing past Harry with my arm. I try to not show that it bothers me that I have to touch him, but I might look as if I regret it deeply and am about to puke.