023. CINEMA // JOLENE

Rory didn't see Harry during her shift - and for the first time in a while, she was relieved.

Her post-work cigarette never felt like such a reward.

It wasn't that she was necessarily mad at him. Truth be told, she didn't know how to feel - unfortunately for her, there was no textbook on how to deal with this sort of thing. It had been weeks of her seeing a different side of Harry, one that was charming, kind, thoughtful and caring. And within a split second, she was reminded last night that he could be far from that person. She saw the old version of him - not the one she had fallen for.

It was confusing, to say the least.

And when she was confused or left with a problem she didn't want to solve, she avoided it.

The side door swung open, and the last person she would have expected to see walked out.

"Andrew?"

She would have forgotten who he was if it weren't for her brilliant mind. In her defence, she only had a brief crush on him - he was just a customer, after all. And if it weren't for Harry kissing her and joining her for that night out with Benny, she would have asked Andrew. The thought of how different everything could have been flashed through her mind for a split second. But she quickly put those thoughts to rest.

There was no point thinking about what could have been. She was happy with how things ended up. Or so, she thought.

Rory was unable to stop herself from comparing how the two looked. Andrew always looked well put together with a cleanly shaved face, short haircut, free of any (visible) tattoos, and dressed in a nice suit that wasn't overly flashy. She knew he had a good job working in finance - a fact she learned because she was genuinely interested in getting to know him better and not for a con.

He was the kind of guy you would take home to meet your parents - the good guy. But that wasn't a concern for Rory, considering she didn't have any family to introduce someone to.

"Hey, the tall security guy told me you would be out here."

Blowing out the remaining smoke, Rory tossed the butt of her cigarette onto the pavement and rubbed it out with the bottom of her shoe. "What's up?"

"I don't know if you would remember this, but a few weeks ago, we were talking about an upcoming baseball game, and you mentioned that you used to go all the time with your grandfather." He cleared his throat and extended the item in his hand. "Anyway, I ended up with another pair of tickets from work and thought you would want to take your boyfriend."

"My what?"

"Aren't you with the owner of the bar? The tall guy with long hair? Super scary looking?"

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop the laughter that begged to escape. "No, we're not together."

"Oh, well," he motioned to the tickets, "Maybe if you take him, it will put you in a good running for employee of the month."

"I can't take those."

"Why not?"

"Because it's way too generous."

"Oh, come on. It's nothing." He shrugged. "They're great seats."

Rory snuck a peek at the number on the tickets. "Damn. Those are great seats," she mumbled.

"If you don't take them, they'll just go to someone else at work who doesn't give a damn about the game."

"We can't have that happening." Before thinking about it for too much longer, she took the tickets from his hand. "Thanks. This is... really nice."

Andrew's eyes looked over her shoulder, and his face went pale. "Are you sure you're not dating your boss?"

"Positive."

"Alright, well, next time you talk to him, if you could make sure he doesn't beat the crap out of me, that would be great."

He tried to pass the comment off with a laugh, but Rory could tell he was serious. Poor guy. She glanced over her shoulder, spotting Harry leaning against his car, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the two of them.

"Don't worry about him," Rory said, turning her head back. She rolled her eyes, noticing Andrew was already by the backdoor. "He doesn't bite." Unless you ask him too.

"I'm not taking any chances. Enjoy the game."

Pocketing the tickets in her purse, she contemplated what her next move had to be. To leave from her current spot, she would have to pass by him. The only other option would be to go back inside and through the front. But if he caught on, he would easily cut her off by going around... And that would open up a can of "why are you avoiding me" worms that she didn't feel like getting into. Mainly because she didn't know what her answer would be.

Be a big girl, Rory, Mia's voice replayed in her head. Stay calm. You got this.

Her friend's words of advice regarded asking Harry about his girlfriend - the question the three friends had decided was the most important - and not the current situation at hand. But she still used the words of advice to encourage her to walk over to Harry and not bail out by sprinting through the bar and out of the front door, hoping no one would question her action.

Her friends had no idea what happened last night. Managing to get out of the club without them noticing Harry, Rory pretended she had too much to drink and needed to go home. Which, all this considered, wasn't too far from the truth. She didn't exactly remember everything - especially not the conversation she had with Harry. That was a bit of a blur.

Harry opened the passenger side door and motioned for her to get in.

Alright, at least chivalry isn't dead. Yet.

Chewing the inside of her lip, she wondered how things would play out. Would they argue or pretend nothing had happened? She hoped for the latter - desperately.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

Great.

"I'm not avoiding-"

"Bullshit, Rory. Are you upset about last night?" As she fell silent, Harry reached his arm over and gently grasped her chin. "Come on, Bambi," he whispered, leaning towards her, "Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?"

Be honest with him, Rory.

"No, I'm not." She paused, swallowing her fear. "But I didn't appreciate the way you talked to me. You can get your point across without being a total ass hat."

"Noted."

"And next time, you can tell me when a meeting means going out and getting drunk. I am capable of spending a night without you. I've done it many times since we started dating, and shockingly, even more times before."

It was clear the conversation they shared was a drunken, hazy memory in her mind. Rory didn't remember his comment about making sure she didn't end up dead - and Harry was more than happy about her forgetfulness.

"That was a meeting. But, I understand."

"A meeting in a club? Seems like a bad place for that. How do you hear each other?" She acted naively, hoping it would lead to answers on what the meeting was about or why that location was picked.

However, he responded with a simple, "It wasn't my choice," and, far too distracted over the fact they were having a successful talk, Rory let her detective skills fade for the night.

"So, are we good, Bambi?"

With a nod, she answered, "We're good."

"Good."

Harry closed the remaining distance between them with a kiss.

"I'm glad we're good," she said between kisses.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as he moved his attention to her neck. "I got you something, and now I'm glad I won't be going home to destroy it."

Smirking against her skin, he asked, "Did you get me a present, Bambi? I hope you're not regifting what your little boyfriend gave you."

"God, what is it with you two and calling each other my boyfriend?"

Harry pulled his head back. "Excuse me?"

"Andrew said the tickets to a baseball game were for me and my boyfriend - who he thought was the tall, scary owner of the bar."

"I'm not your boyfriend."

It wasn't what he said that pissed her off, but how he said it.

"I know you're not," she snapped.

"Did you tell him that?"

"Of course I did. Do you really think I want that going around?" Pushing him away and crossing her arms over her chest, Rory let out a frustrated huff. "Do you need to get laid or something?"

"Excuse me?"

"You've been in such a pissy mood recently. Are you sexually frustrated, Harry?"

The glare in his eyes began to soften, and the crease of his furrowed brows disappeared. "You're lucky I've grown to tolerate your smart mouth."

A smirk crossed her lips. "Do you wish you could put it to better use?"

"I do."

"Well, try being a good boy and see what reward you get."

Harry's focus was on her, tapping his fingers against his thighs. As he opened his mouth to speak, he appeared to change his mind and turned forward, starting the car.

Rory assumed he was driving her home until he turned right instead of left out of the parking lot. "Where are we going?" Met with silence, her frustration grew. "Hello? Earth to Harry? Where the fuck are you taking me?"

"My house."

"Why?"

The heavy silence returned. Rory never liked being in a car without music, but when she turned the radio on, Harry immediately switched it off. She tried again, but he swatted away her hand before she had the chance to turn the knob. Accepting defeat, she stared out the window and heard a crackle of thunder off in the distance. She liked the rain - loved it, actually - but it was the worst way to go home. The bus from Harry's house to her apartment stopped at least a five-minute walk away.

The one from work stops only a three-minute walk away, the voice in her head sneered.

She began calculating how much a cab ride would cost - but anything over ten bucks (which got you a thirty seconds drive these days with the current city rates) was already out of her price range.

If only there were a tall, scowl-wearing, long-haired, stupid man with green snake eyes named Haroldina who could drive her home instead of trapping her in his car. Oh, how that was too much to ask for these days.

Harry pulled the car into his garage and cut the engine. "Are you coming inside, or are you going to keep pouting like a child?"

"I'm not getting out of this car until you tell me why I'm here."

Harry rolled his eyes and got out of the car without giving her an answer.

She was willing to stand her ground.

Even when he slammed the driver's seat door behind him... and walked over to the door that led into the house and unlocked it... and when he turned off the lights to the garage, leaving her in the dark.

Good going, Roro. You really know how to pick them!

Getting out of the car, she did her best to maneuver her way towards the door, which somehow she managed to do without falling flat on her face.

Now, she was starting to get livid. As she made her way into the house and spotted him in the kitchen, Rory stormed over to him in an angry state and dug through her purse.

"Here's your stupid gift," she said, putting it on the counter before turning and walking straight to the front door.

"Shit," he grumbled, "Rory!"

Ignore him.

"Rory!"

You're almost there. Just keep going.

"RORY!" he yelled, grabbing her arm.

Spinning around, she met his frantic eyes and yelled, "WHAT?"

Harry's voice dropped to a softer volume. "I'm stressed out about work, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay?" he repeated.

"Yeah, okay. That's what I fucking said."

"That's it? That's all I'm getting from you? Usually, you try and sneak in ten more questions before giving up."

Rolling her eyes, she reached for the door and muttered, "Yeah, and that gets me fucking nowhere."

"Don't leave," his voice was soft and fragile, the desperation evident from his tone. "Please."

Although his voice and the look of sadness across his expression made her heart ache, she knew better than to give in. "Why? You want me to stay around so you can keep treating me like crap all night, Harry?"

"No, I-"

"There have been enough guys who do this, and I'm not putting up with it anymore."

"This?" he repeated, reaching out for her before she could turn back around. "What do you mean by this exactly?"

"Treat me well just long enough for me to start liking them and then going back to their old ways."

"That's not my intention. I'm just stressed about-"

"-work, I know."

There was a beat of silence before he whispered, "I'm trying, Bambi."

"Try harder."

"It's not that simple."

"Then make it simple."

Harry caught his bottom lip between two fingers and took a deep breath. "Just give me five minutes to make this right," he said, "Please, Rory. At least stay while I open your gift."

She wanted to stand her ground and tell him off, shout that he could fuck right off and go to hell. But instead, she took his hand and followed his lead back to the kitchen, where her gift was still on the counter. Suddenly, the nerves began to rattle through her body as Harry started unwrapping his present.

What if he hates it?

Harry looked down at the item in his hand with a furrowed brow.

Oh god, look at him! He totally hates it.

This would make her exit far more awkward than it needed to be.

"You got me a Dolly Parton record?"

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and nodded. "You like that album... right?"

"Like it? Rory, I love it."

If any part of her questioned his honesty, the smile he wore diminished all her fears. There was no faking the happiness and joy he wore. He headed out of the kitchen and into the other room. She wondered what he was doing until she heard the sound of music playing.

Harry turned around as she stood in the doorway and held his hand. "Come on. One song."

"What?"

"Dance with me - for one song, then you can go."

"Why? You hate dancing."

"But you don't."

Placing her hand in his, she allowed him to pull her to the center of the living room as Dolly's voice singing I Will Always Love You filled the space. It was nice to do something other than arguing with him tonight. Especially something like slow dancing in a living room. This was the type of shit she had only seen in movies before - not something she ever expected to happen in real life.

"How did you know this was one of my favourite albums?"

"I didn't know it was a favourite," she confessed. "But you sing songs from it when you cook. And I saw it at the record store by my apartment and thought of you."

"Thank you."

"It's not a big deal."

"It is." Harry rested his forehead against hers. "This album means a lot to me."

The music continued to play as the two swayed in silence. Rory knew she mattered to him, even if he didn't always show it. Otherwise, they wouldn't be sharing this moment, or so she led herself to believe. As the song started to fade, so did his touch. When he pulled away from her, Rory felt a loss, and she sensed he felt it too.

"Can we listen to one more?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I like it," she said, reaching out for his hand. "I want to hear more."

Harry held her in his arms as they swayed from side to side around his living room.

Resting her head against his chest, she asked, "What's this one called?"

"Lonely Coming Down."

"It's pretty."

With his arms wrapped around her, humming along quietly to the song, Rory felt a strange feeling of peace. It wasn't a familiar feeling she knew; it came by so rarely, she could count all the times she felt it on one hand. But the more time she spent with him, in moments like this, she wondered if that feeling could ever become permanent instead of fleeting.

Another next song came and went. As the final note played, Rory tilted her head up. Without uttering a word, she closed the remaining distance between them, pressing her lips to his.

"Does this mean you forgive me?"

She nodded. "Let's just forget about it."

"Drink?"

"Please." Watching as he went to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of alcohol, she asked, "Why does this album mean so much to you?"

"It was my mother's favourite. She would sing it all the time - especially when she cooked."

Rory smiled. "Just like you do."

"I didn't realize I did that," he said, looking down to hide his embarrassment.

"You have a nice voice, Harry. I like hearing you sing."

With two filled glasses in hand, he handed one to her and said, "Cheers. And thank you."

"For what?"

"For your compliment, but mainly, for not leaving," he answered, taking a seat, "Even when I deserved it."

Sitting next to him on the couch, she said, "The night is still young."

He smiled, looking down at his glass. "I lied to you."

"What?" she managed to get out, nearly choking on a sip of alcohol.

"You were right about Brandon. He was fucking us over. And I lied to you about it."

"Why are you telling me?"

"Because he was part of our business ventures outside of the bar," Harry explained, refilling his glass. "And with him out of the picture, we've had to make some personnel changes."

"Well, I would say I feel bad that's added stress onto your life, but better it happened now than further down the line." She took a sip from her glass. "He offered up quite a good amount of information, and I didn't even have to sleep with him."

"He did?"

She nodded. "Nothing all that useful. Just that he was selling what he was scamming off of you to someone else."

"And you didn't think that was important to bring to my attention?"

"You didn't ask," she said, shrugging. "And you told me I was wrong, remember?"

"How foolish of me."

Her fingers tapped against her glass. "I'm like a vault, you know."

Harry raised a brow at her comment.

"If you ever wanted to talk about what was bothering you, I'm like a vault, apparently. Mia said it to me once. I guess I'm just good at keeping everyone's secrets."

"Sounds like you have a lot of ammunition."

"I don't use it against the people I care about," she said. "If you ever wanted to talk about what's bothering you, I'm here. You could even use code words and pretend your side business is legal."

"How do you know what I do isn't legal?"

She rolled her eyes. "Because I'm not an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," he agreed. "You're smart. Brilliant, some might say." As her eyes twinkled, Harry repeated, "Some."

"I'm still counting it."

Harry grinned, exposing a hint of a dimple. "Not too long ago, someone told me I was a bad criminal, and-"

"Actually, I think they said if you were a real criminal, you'd be shit at it."

"Rory," he warned.

She pressed the rim of the glass to her lips, suppressing a giggle.

"As I was saying, it pissed me off because it took this tiny little know-it-all to make me realize I was off my game."

"Who are you calling tiny and little? I am tall," she snapped. "It's not my fault you're a giant freak of a human."

Harry blinked, too stunned to immediately speak following her sudden outburst. "You get quite the mouth on you after a drink of whiskey. Let me make a note not to call you-"

"I'm five-eight," Rory interrupted. Noting his glare, she raised a hand in defence and muttered, "Just saying."

"Well, I'm just saying I'm happy you stole from me. Even if you are a brat."

Rory placed her glass on the table and moved closer to his side. "I'm going to ignore that brat comment for a second," she said with a delightful grin crossing her lips. "Did you just say you're happy I stole from you?"

"Must be the whiskey." Resting a hand on her thigh, he met her glance and said, "I am glad, Rory. I'm glad I met you - even if it was because you stole from me."

She could have sworn her heart was beating so loud that his neighbour would have been able to hear. Her skin flushed; she feared if he touched her, he would be able to feel the heat radiating off her skin. But she couldn't help that his words made her feel this way. She didn't know if it was the alcohol or a normal reaction. Whatever it was, she wanted to bottle up the feeling so she could keep it for a rainy day.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"How long has it been since you dated someone?"

He chuckled. "Is this your way of telling me I'm out of practice?"

"No! Not at all! I was just curious."

"I've dated around here and there. But my last serious relationship was almost three years ago."

"How long were you guys together?"

"About a year and a half."

Rory looked down at her hands. She wanted to ask what happened but didn't know how to phrase it in a way that wasn't impolite - or find out if it was the beautiful blonde woman she had seen in all those photographs.

"She died."

Rory's head snapped up. "What?"

"That's what you wanted to know, right? What happened?"

"N-no, I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright, Rory," he assured her. "Her death was hard," that was an understatement, "But I've moved on from it."

"Do you have a photo of her?"

Harry nodded and pulled out his wallet. Taking the small, worn-out picture from his hands, Rory looked at the image of the beautiful blonde she had seen in all those photos upstairs. The one that made him smile so broad his dimples appeared; the one that made him happy.

It was her.

The locket wasn't in the photo, but from what she saw in his dresser, Rory knew it was hers.

The locket she stole. The one she had kept from him all this time. It was her locket.

Rory had his dead girlfriend's locket.

"Did you love her?"

Harry raised his glass to his lips. "Yes," he answered simply before taking a sip. "She was a ray of sunlight I needed during a time of darkness."

Rory was content with the information she had gathered. Although it was painful to hear him talk about another in that way, at least she knew there was a heart capable of loving someone. Now, she could return to her friends and say she learned something about him.

But what Harry said next made her wish she never brought it up in the first place.

"She was special and truly one of a kind. No one will ever compare to her - there's no doubt in my mind about that." He smiled to himself. "I'll always be in love with her."

ANNDDDD IIIII WILLL ALWAYSSSSSS LOOOOVE YOUUUUU