Movement

Prologue.

     HER foot continued to tap in a sporadic rhythm- following the taps his short fingernails made on the phone he held in his hand. His attention was elsewhere- the small contraption in his overwhelmingly large hands captivating his focus and stealing it away from the real matter at hand- the reason they were cooped up in the small corner of a coffee shop on 87th street on the East side of Manhattan.

     Her attention was ripped away from the small child petting the puppy outside- quite viciously, she noticed, while simultaneously waiting for their subject to come through the door as soon as a small chortle released itself from his plump lips. She found him grinning down at the screen and shaking his head, and that's when she let out a dramatic sigh.

     "Can you please focus?" She demanded quietly, startling him as his eyes looked up to meet hers.

     "What are you talking about? I am focused, he hasn't even come in yet," he responded, quite shortly. "Christ, what's got your pant.ies in a twist today?" He added.

     That's it, she thought to herself as her eyes narrowed to slits, I'm done.

     "What has my 'pant.ies in a twist' is the fact that I got partnered with a man that can't keep off of his stupid dating apps for more than ten minutes!" She gritted out a tone louder than she should have, glancing around the room to realize that in fact, no one had heard her. She continued in a lower voice with, "We're supposed to be on a date, Harry."

     He rolled his eyes at this and set his phone on the tabletop beside his coffee, folding his hands in front of him. "You need to relax, people go on their phones all the time on dates. I did it last week, the girl didn't seem to mind."

     "Has she called you back?"

     He huffed at this, a scowl appearing on his face as she smirked in victory, crossing her arms to lean back on the rather uncomfortable chair. Looking around, she surveyed the scene in front of her. The place was filled with couples, sitting on the same sides of the tables and cuddled into each other after finding the old coffee shop as a haven from the brutally cold winter weather outside. Brady could still feel her socks soaked through to her feet even after an hour of sitting in the shop, involuntarily shivering and tightening her arms around her thin frame.

     "Aw, is someone cold?" She heard Harry speak up from across from her and found him pouting insincerely, scooting his chair under him to circle around the table and plant himself beside her. She tried her best not to grimace at his sarcastic attitude, playing the part of a girlfriend as best as she could until he wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders and pulled her into him. She took a deep breath through her nose and found herself holding back a cough, turning her head to grimace up at him.

     "Could you wear anymore cologne? God, it smells like a fu.cking Macy's with your arm around me."

     He grinned at her and only tightened his grip, looking down at her in a way that would've made any bystander be convinced that they were, without a doubt, happily in love. If only they knew the truth.

     "It's Chanel, Brady, come on, it can't be that bad," he drawled out, and once again, she rolled her eyes.

     It was then that he walked in, and her head shot up faster than it should have, since she was so hyper aware of that damned door opening and closing. A cold gust of wind blew in behind him and made the people sitting within the realm of the door shudder, ironically enough. She had never seen him in real life- only photos and videos of terrible quality pulled from various security cameras across the Tri-State Area. He was most often reported as working out of the darkest corners of the Bronx, hidden in project buildings in order to not draw attention to himself, which was apparently incredibly hard to do. The people of the coffee shop stared at him as he made his way through the busy room, getting in line way too casually for someone of his caliber.