Winter Air [H.S.]

Five

After the night at The Lounge, both Ava and Harry continued on with their lives. They both were busy with their separate jobs, neither of which making time to see one another. That was the reality of life. People got busy and continue on with their days. Every once in a while Rose and Ava would meet up for coffee, but the subject of Harry was never brought up.

Harry was intrigued by Ava. He had become captivated by her lightness and beauty. Though regardless of his captivation, it did not seem fit to do anything about it. In his mind, if two are to be in a friendly relationship it would happen naturally. But for right now, Harry had other things on his mind. Things that involved literature and writing- two of his favourite things. 

Penning the great American novel was always an aspiration of his. Ever since he picked up his first copy of The Old Man and The Sea, he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to write. When his pen met the page, words began to flow out effortlessly. However lately it seemed like it had become more of a struggle. The "American Novel" that he aspired to write was becoming a distant memory with every passing day. He had become imprisoned by writer's block, and hinderance and no ingenuity were his correctional officers. The stories that he once were able to write had been blocked by a lack of creativity and focus. 

"Harry, I really need more from you. You have two weeks to come up with a better story, or you are out. With the increase of romantic novels, we need to come out with the next best one. I'm sorry but there are deadlines and you are not making them. Come back when you have something better. Go out, get inspired. Get drunk. Break a heart or two. Do something. Find a muse. Just, go." 

The words that Harry's publisher said kept playing over and over in his mind. "Find a muse." Find a muse? He would not find a muse. Grabbing his keys and jean jacket, Harry walked out of his apartment and made his way to the local bar. Maybe a glass of whisky or two would stir up some inspiration. He had two weeks to come up with something or he was out. If he was out, then all of his dreams would be ruined. There was no way in hell that he would allow that. 

On the other side of the city, Ava continued on with her every day routine. Her shift was drawing to an end and she couldn't be more relieved. As she turns of the light and locks up, she notices the curly haired man that she couldn't seem to forget stumble past her. 

"Harry?" He turns around quickly, bloodshot eyes staring back at her clear ones. 

"Ava," he slurs.

"Harry. Are you alright?" Concern is heavy in her voice. 

"Yeah. There's a pub over there. I like it a lot. I go there all time." He manages to say, rambling ever so slightly. She chuckles in response. 

"Are you talking about Levi's?" 

"Yes. Good whiskey." Rolling her eyes in response, she grabs onto his jean jacket. 

"You sir, are in no condition to drive home. Let me help you." The cliche of the moment was unbearable. After weeks of no contact, the two met once again. It was as if the universe was out to get them, toying and scheming to bring their lives together.  

Buckling the intoxicated curly-haired man, Ava began the short journey back to her apartment. 

"You know, I've seen you before," he slurs again. 

"I know Harry. With Rose." She couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. 

"No. A month ago. You were being cornered by a pervert. I was at Levi's. I saw you." As Harry recalls the first time he saw her, Ava tries to remember the situation he is referring to. The memory floods back and the events of that night hit her.