Chapter eighty-six

Harry purses his lips. I already know for a fact that he won't give me a straight answer, and the familiarity of the rejection makes me laugh. I feel his gaze on me as I stand.

"I'm hungry." Stating the obvious to fill the uncomfortable silence. "I'll be back."

As soon as I return to our table, I grin at him, setting down my tray and his. There's an almost-smile on his face, but it's enough motivation for me to face him, ready for an answer. Because if I know one thing, after these last few days, after the times we've spent together, after Lilli has encouraged and discouraged me to move on, move forward, I am certain that I deserve an answer. If he won't tell me now, when will he?

"So, Harry," I start. "Do you wanna eat then talk? Talk then eat?" His eyes widen; I think he expected me to change the conversation. "Talk and eat?" I suggest.

He opens his mouth to say something, but I realise suddenly what has been the issue between us from the beginning.

"I'm not leaving this buffet until you tell me what you're keeping from me, Harry Evans."

Honesty.

"When are you planning to tell me whatever it is you're hiding? You'll be going to London soon. And you're giving me… this…" I don't want to say it. "… good-bye present? This, Harry," pointing to the ring, "Instead of a proper explanation. And you know for a fact that that's what I want the most." I reach across the table, grabbing his hands. "What I need from you." He stares into my eyes. "I'd like to know you, Harry. I lost you after Year six, and something or some things have happened to you, and now…." I shake my head and smile. "I only get to see half, if not, a small, small part of you everyday. I know you're not like this. I know you don't like being like this, but I also know that nothing will change if you don't make a change."

Within the green ring of his eye, the colours vibrantly flash for a nanosecond.

"I'm trying," he says, and it's so hopelessly sad, how trapped he feels even around… someone like me. He clears his throat. "I want to tell you, Tasmin. I just don't know when to –"

"How long will you wait, Harry?" I mutter softly. "Whatever you're going to tell me, all I can ever do with that information is help you." He keeps a steady gaze with me. "And that's all I want to do."

"I –"

"I know I'm impatient. I know I'm annoyingly persistent. You don't have to say so, because Lilli's told me so a million times over. But, Harry," I plead. "You can trust me." His eyes widen a little. "Whatever you say, whatever you're keeping from me, trust me that I'll still be right here."

He flicks his head away. Then takes a deep breath in.

"I really don't know –"

"Fine," I say firmly, squeezing his hand just once. "What or who is holding you back, Harry? Could you grant me that?"

His gaze meets mine, and I know straight away that what he says is true.

"You, Tasmin."

"Me?"

"Yes."

We stare at each other, me with my mouth hanging open stupidly, him with his eyes wide.

"And?" I ask.

He draws away, and his hands slide away from mine. "And what?"

"Why?"

For a while he hasn't, but he smiles, and it catches me off guard.

"I… I answered your question, Tasmin."

"So you're planning to leave me hanging?" I say, staring back at him, palms turned in question towards the heavens. "Just like this?"

Harry smirks, then starts forking at the now-cool food on his plate. "Just like this."

I sigh loudly in exasperation, desperate for answers, but almost tired with the conversation. I stare at him, eating his food, and at his chestnut hair flapping over his forehead, and bathe in the fury boiling within me. I let out a breathy laugh, almost a wheeze, which I myself am surprised to hear.

Harry smiles, then sweeps his fork over his plate, then holds it up. It takes me a minute to realise he's holding it out to me.

"My arm's getting tired," he teases, and I lean forward to take the bite of beef pie and peas into my mouth, chewing quickly. I glare at him, continuing to rudely snap my jaw up and down, and it makes the corners of his mouth lift up.

"You make me mad, Harry Evans," I mutter through a mouthful of steaming beef and crumbling pie crust. I quickly swallow it in a noisy gulp. "But I'll always be here for you."

This makes him grin. "I know."

I steal another bite off of his plate. "But I expect answers in the next three days," I mumble, then shove a large piece of pie into my pecker. He doesn't react as loudly as I expected him to, and instead, he stares at me intently, almost affectionately.

"You may have the answers a lot sooner."

"That would be nice."

After stuffing ourselves full, we take a short walk on the top deck. I'm lucky that the fairy lights cover my cheeks almost completely, for I can't stop thinking about when Harry almost kissed me. We return to the buffet for some tiramisu slices, and take our same seats in the corner booth. Harry finishes before me, placing down his spoon and proceeding to stare directly at me.

I glance up at him questioningly. "Want a bit?" I offer.

He shakes his head no, but doesn't say anything. His gaze is intense, and I'm very unlucky to be sitting in a brightly-lit buffet.

Finally, he does say something.

"Are you tired?"