I. L'instant [H.S]

V

"As you wish.." he said, rolling his eyes at me. "I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of it, it's-"

"Fine, if you don't want to then-"

"Alright, alright!" he chuckled, raising one of his hands in defence. "I swear it. Good?"

I wanted to tell him to say it all, to mess with him further. Rolling my eyes, I sank back into the leather seat of his car, feeling like a five year old with a full pout and drawn in brows. Harry stared at me, unfazed for a second but then he started to grin, shaking his head in disapproval at such a childish behaviour.

"For fuck's sake, Emilia.." he growled with faked exasperation. "I will never, ever, lie to you. Okay?" a low chuckle escaped his lips, betraying his facade.

I couldn't hold it any longer either, exploding into a fit of laughter. The pints we had earlier messed up with my seriousness, replacing my usual rather-blunt behaviour with just plain silliness. He sighed, looking away from me and ahead of the road, we were parked outside my mum's house, well past midnight and I was much more drunk than he was. By far.

"I know you're pissed," he said after a minute. "and you're probably gonna forget about this, but you have to know that I mean it."

Taking a long breath, I straightened myself up a bit. "I know.."

"Yeah, right." he laughed.

"No, no. I know I'm pissed.." I laughed along. "But I do hope you keep your word, y'know? I.. I hate when people lie. I don't understand, why do it? If you know the other person will eventually find out and whatever you were trying to keep them from hurting for will only increase to a thousand once they know you bloody lied!"

"Alright, I got it!" he said, amused at my ranting. "God.. what happened to you?"

"Perhaps one day I'll tell you." I quipped, the alcohol flooding through my veins too much to control myself.

I did tell him eventually, the reason I have always hated being lied to, just a few weeks before he left.

A part of me knows I should've known, I should have known he would change, that every thing about our friendship was no longer valid or even existent, the promise we made to each other that night might have been a thing made up in the heat of the moment, in the dizziness of a drunken chat, but to me it did mean something, it did matter.

It's been more than a week since I learned about Harry being married. I still can't wrap my head around it, I can't understand how that happened but then it's been almost three bloody years, what was I expecting? That he would come back being the same man he was, with the skinny jeans, long hair and shitty attitude? He's clearly changed, I could see that from the minute he opened that door.

What's eating me alive almost as much as the thought of him lying, is to know who did he marry? Harry never seemed the kind of person who'd join the global idea that marriage is actually something people should do in order to validate a relationship further, or at least that's exactly how I feel about the whole concept.

None of it matters, really. I have to remind myself that almost every hour so I don't go mad thinking about Harry and his marriage.

Tomorrow Joe comes back and I couldn't be more excited about it, mostly because I've missed him a lot and a bit because his presence will kill-off any trail of the unnerving necessity to look at all the messages Harry's sent me over the last few days.

Work's been buzzing which has helped a bit too. Eric hasn't asked me about Harry anymore and I'm guessing it's because of his new-found friendship with Michael's girlfriend and his recent going-to-lunch-together's with Steve from Sports.