Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 34

Harry sighs as he stared at another term sheet, his eyes blurring from boredom. He really doesn't care whether or not Ke$ha gets two tour buses on her tour or twenty. It really doesn't fucking matter. He shouldn't even be doing this. Why should he be the one to decide how many tour buses there are? What a mundane job. A number cruncher should be deciding this shit. They're much more equipped to make these kinds of decisions.

He leans back in his office chair, rubbing his hand frustratedly over his handsome face, scratching lightly at the stubble slowly starting a five o'clock shadow. He wanted to grow scruff, but Eleanor wouldn't let him.

He just wanted to be a fucking man.

He stared at his reflection in the computer screen, able to see himself far more clearly than he expected because it's gone dark from non-use. He subconsciously starts humming out a melody that's been weaving in his mind all day, letting the music swell in his head as he avoids doing what he's supposed to. His fingers are itching for an instrument — any instrument — a guitar, a piano, fuck! A kazoo would work at this point. He just needs to get the music out.

He glanced down at his watch. 3:30. Not even close to the time he's supposed to go home. Plus, he has work to do. He turns to blink again at the blank computer, hitting the mouse to see the term sheet stare teasingly back at him. With a sigh, he kicks his socked feet up in the desk and grabs the wireless keyboard, annoyingly hitting the down arrow with a huffed, annoyed sigh.

His ears perk up when he hears laughter from outside of his office door, a laugh he had grown to love — and he leans back in his chair to see me unknowingly standing frozen in the front door of the office, my cheeks a touch of pink from the cold, my long, chestnut hair sweeping across my shoulders.

Long hair...

The thought leaves him as soon as it enters. I shake my head as I get accustomed to the warmer inside temperature, a dimple forming in my cheek as I smile welcomingly at Hannah. The music swells in his heart, the sight unfolding before him making him long even more for something to play.

"Nice color, Hannah," I offer. She chuckled in response, while I hear Harry sigh. I know he hates it when she's painting her finger nails, or worse — her toes. But ever the gentleman, he never complains.

"I know! It's called — 'Hey Vito, is the Car Red-y!" Hannah smiled. I pause a moment, watching her oblivious face before I bust out laughing, eliciting a chuckle from Harry as well. He must be listening.

"Oh, thanks Hannah. I needed that," I laugh with a sigh, patting her arm before starting to head towards Harry's office.

"Is it funny?" she asks, confused. "I don't get it."

"Think about it for a minute, Hannah. It'll come to you..." Harry calls from his office, his feet immediately launching for the floor to stand up, his keyboard clambering against the desk as I walk in.

"Hey," I smile softly, holding binders of papers against my chest tightly. Being around him still makes me nervous after everything from Christmas, so I just loiter against the doorway.

I'm wearing a pea coat and a green scarf that contrasts my eyes enough to make them as bright as emeralds, the outfit meant to keep me warm in the still chilly beach weather. My hair is long and splayed delicately over my shoulders unintentionally. Harry can't stop eyeing it, longing over the long hair his fiancé took away today.

"Eleanor sent me over with some more stuff for the wedding," I sigh. Harry turns his head back to the black computer screen, anger rising in his chest at the mere mention of his fiancé's name.