Harry and I have a slightly more light-hearted conversation during the ride over this time, steering away from the topics of diaries or pasts or anything that may strike a nerve. By the time we pull up to the reception place, it almost feels like a different day.
We seem to be one of the first to have arrived, our names swiftly getting checked off of the list. Harry stops to chat to one of the waiters and I proceed forward into the main hall, curious as to how they’ve decorated the whole thing.
As soon as I step into the room, my jaw drops. Elaine must really like the colour red because it is practically everywhere. The centerpieces on each table contain red roses, the curtains hanging from the windows are a deep scarlet, and even the dance floor is a dark shade of mahogany. The only thing that stands out is the white lace of the table cloths.
I stand just at the edge of the floor, the bar behind me and the head table directly in front. Tables dot the perimeter of the dance floor, creating the look of a typical reception. I cross my arms as I admire the room, Harry soon joining me by my side. I wordlessly hand him his jacket back, trying to figure out how to put the scene before me into words.
“Looks quite murderous, doesn’t it?” Harry speaks, draping the item of clothing over his shoulder.
I thwack him lightly in the stomach and mirror his words from earlier, “Be nice.”
He pretends to be hurt and I stride away towards the head table. I peer at the name cards, searching for my name. I find it perched at the very far end of the table, almost in an afterthought. Harry follows my gaze and frowns.
“Hm. Well that won’t do.”
I gape at him as he nabs my nametag, sprinting nimbly over to the seat directly besides his. He cheekily checks over his shoulder to see if anybody’s watching. Deciding it’s clear, he switches the nametags, beaming at me for approval.
“Such a rebel.”
He laughs and pushes his curls out of his face at the same time. We stand together as more guests begin to arrive, Harry casually introducing me to everybody he can.
“Alexa, this is Charles, Gus’ very distant cousin.”
“Meet Hanna, Elaine’s aunt.”
“This is the little flower girl, Marie. She’s one of Gus’ nieces.”
My head begins to spin with random names and faces. I grip Harry’s shoulder in between introductions. “How do they have so many extended family members yet barely any immediate ones?”
Harry hesitates before half-heartedly shrugging, “Just the way it worked out, I guess.”
Before I can prod him any more about what he means, his expression darkens significantly, gaze following someone who’s just entered the room. I try to pinpoint who he’s staring down and I realize the man in question is walking towards us. He’s dressed in a suit just like Harry’s, cropped strawberry blonde hair arranged in what I’d call an “organized mess”. His bright blue eyes stand out even at a distance, half-smile evident on his lips. The man stands directly in front of us, gaze flickering between the two of us. Suddenly, the room feels electric.
Of course, Harry being the ever-so polite human being he is, he extends a hand for the man to shake even though everyone in the room can identify the tension between them. The man reciprocates almost with a sneer.
“Shane.”
“Harry.”
I flick my eyes back and forth between the two, lips pursed awkwardly. They don’t budge for at least a few seconds so I attempt an escape.
YOU ARE READING
Heroism (h.s.)
Fanfiction"A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself." - Joseph Churchill. After a frightening incident on her way home from work, Alexa Mackie is left with more questions than answers. A mysterious stranger in black sa...
