8. The Invite

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We continue browsing and Harry leads me up a flight of stairs that doesn't look like it's intended for public use. In fact, it has the standard 'Staff Only' sign emblazoned on the door.

"Harry, wait," I stop him. "I don't think we're allowed up there."

He looks down at me as he was a few steps ahead, and grins mischievously.

"If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun," he quotes.

"Look, you can't just quote random people, because I'm pretty sure they didn't have this in mind when they said those words!"

Despite this, I follow after him and it feels slightly thrilling to be doing something that I know I probably shouldn't. I love that feeling of being able to let go once in a while, and feels even better to do so with Harry.

We eventually reach a fire exit door and Harry's hand hesitates in opening the door. Something inside of me incites, and suddenly I feel like showing my spontaneous side. I edge past him and grab hold of the handle.

"What happened to not missing out on the fun?" I challenge whilst looking directly at him, referring to his quote only moments ago. He smiles a smile I have yet to see from him, and edges closer to me. Wanting to remain in control of the moment, I open the door and exit, leaving Harry dead in his tracks. I am instantly blown away by the view. We have an almost perfect panoramic spectacle of the Melbourne skyline and its surroundings. I lean my elbows on the cement edge and watch the bustling inner city neighbourhood go by.

I am soon joined by a breathless Harry, who does the same.

"Bit puffed out are you?" I playfully tease, wanting a response from him.

"I'm fit as a fiddle," he defends, trying to keep his breathing steady, and instead we burst into laughter.

There is a few moments of silence before he points to a disheveled woman in her mid thirties getting into a minivan.

"Probably on her way to pick up the kids from school. Maybe then off to football practice." He muses and then points to a teen girl with a backpack. "And she's on her way home from a class at university. She's doing an Arts degree because she doesn't know what she wants to be in life, but she wants the security of having an education."

Picking up on his game, I then gesture to an attractive young man in his twenties,

"He's definitely on his way to a line dancing class. Followed by an evening of crying himself to sleep in the foetal position after watching reruns of Bewitched," I say seriously, trying to mask my joke as a statement.

Harry almost loses it after my comment and I can't help but join in when he makes a snorting sound.

"Who knew you were a snorter!" I exclaim, poking fun at him.

He looks embarrassed and laughs, "Trust you to kick me while I'm down," he says, defeated, with his boyish grin.

We both look on and the "university student" and "line dancer" greet each other in a romantic embrace. We both look away and take a seat on the floor with our backs against the ledge wall.

"Having fun?" He asks lightly, while absentmindedly scraping a little pebble in between the grates.

"Honestly, this was such a great idea. I was struggling with places to take you, and I'm glad you took charge. It's absolutely perfect," I tell him, this time in a more serious way.

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