After the betrayal of his ex and the disintegration of his heart, Harry convinces himself he'll never love again. That is until the bride walks down the isle and she's dressed head to toe in white. Only it's not his wedding, and it's not his bride...
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"Well you cured my January blues, Yeah you made it all alright. I got the feeling I might have lit the very fuse, That you were trying not to light."
Knee Socks | Arctic Monkeys
| CHAPTER THREE |
I sit in the back of the Bagagio, wondering where the hours of the week have flown off too.
I'm early–fashionably and surprisingly so: my punctuality never has been one of my admirable attributions–not that I have many of those otherwise. My heart seems like a pinball against the edges of my flesh as I sit here alone. I tap my fingers on my thigh and wait for Drew and Rowena to join me.
Two, four, six, the bell above the door signals their arrival. My eyes watch them from far on the opposite side of the restaurant. Hand in hand, eyes turn to watch their walkway scene. Drew is in his typical suit and Rowena adorns a designer dress that looks as if it was made for her.
Just like that, my rule of a plaid shirt and jeans suits every occasion is broken and my insecurity is mighty as it perches on my shoulder like a vulture. I'm hesitant to stand to my feet and greet them.
"You're early," Drew says.
"Maybe you're just late," I reply.
"Are you always so facetious?" Her voice claims my attention.
I look at her. For some reason, I smile and it's sincere. It's a rare occurrence now; one she would be honoured to see if she knew I don't smile at all. There's been no reason to since Andy. Or maybe it makes more sense to say after Andy, I don't know. I just know I'm smiling and it feels foreign enough that I'm wondering whether I'm drunk off one glass of wine, and that glass of wine was some miracle potion that cured my vindictive blues because it can't possibly have been her.
"Only when people give me the opportunity of being so," I reply.
"Is that often?" she asks as she sits down in the booth.
"Too often," I say. She grins–my heart smirks at me from below.
"I'm going to get drinks," Rowena says. We both nod and she leaves me with a kiss planted on her lover's cheek.
"I see no debauchery today, Harry," Drew jokes. "Are you feeling okay?"
"I could ask you the same thing. It's unlike you to introduce me to a girl twice, what happened to your trusty rule of, 'turn and toss'?" I retort.
He scoffs. "She's different."
"Different."
Drew looks at me, a type of defensiveness in his eyes. "Yes, different, as in not like any of the others." He leans back in his chair and smiles like he's high at the thought of her. "I don't know man, she has this fire in her eyes and you sort of want to be burned, you know?"
