[Silhouette-Aquilo]

Before I leave the bathroom I can't suppress the instinct to bring Harry's clothes close to his face once more to feel his smell.

When I go back to the room, my cell phone vibrates on the table; I read my father's name on the screen and unlock it to respond. "Ariel, where are you?" his voice is a mixture of tiredness and worry.

He must have finished working very late last night. "Dad, I'm fine," I hasten to say.

"I left you some messages."

"Yes, I saw them. I thought you would come back later this morning. " I quickly move the phone from my ear to check the time: he's right, I didn't think it was so late. "Sorry, I'll be right there."

"I'll wait for you, I'm at home," he ends before ending the call.

I don't blame him for being worried, because he didn't know exactly where I was and why we're not a year ago anymore; now we fear that to lose someone it takes little, almost less than nothing.

I fold up Harry's clothes and leave them on the sofa, after which I take Tara's shoes to put them back on. I wish I had something more comfortable to leave, but I know it's been a long time for me to be here now. I look around as I fasten the strap of my right shoe but I don't see or hear Harry. I shift my attention to his room but the door is closed probably there. I wonder what you think, why he decided to take such a small space that I wouldn't even be able to realize if I was there. I shake my head: it has also done too much for me.

Maybe it's better to just go away; the
I will write a message later to thank him again.

I am already in front of the front door with the jacket in their hands together with the bag when I feel a gentle grip around the wrist. I hesitate before turning around, because I am no longer sure of myself and how I could react just by looking at him.
It's just that he keeps holding my wrist; his fingers are completely wrapped around it and then I close my eyes and sigh, before turning to him. He won't even let me go now.

"Were you leaving?" he asks me by loosening my grip.

"Yes, my father was worried," I say and nod, trying to avoid looking at him. "Thanks for letting me stay here, Harry."

"I know what you're doing, Ariel," he says and lets go completely while I stand in front of him waiting for an explanation for his words.

"And what would I be doing, Harry?"

He looks at me intently before answering me, "we both know what would have happened if that book hadn't slipped."

I look away from his. I didn't expect it to allude to that moment, to that if it should never have existed.

When I go back to look at him he is always in front of me. "Harry, we can't."

"But it could have happened."

I look at him confused, I find it hard to understand him and keep up with him. "Where do you mean?"

He absently passes a hand through his hair and then raises his shoulders. "I don't know," he says, "but there is something between us, and I know you feel it too. You can't deny it. "

I shake my head and cross my arms over my chest. I know if I've kept looking at it now, I wouldn't be able to deny it. "There is Tara, and we can't do this."

I think of how happy she was only a few hours ago and how we could have completely changed the situation, reversing her happiness and breaking that beam of light that shone in her eyes. I would never have forgiven myself, and I'm sure neither Harry would have done it.

"You can't do this to her, Harry, and what's between us, whatever it is, doesn't in the least affect your feelings for her."

His eyes are veiled with disappointment at my words and the tone I used, but I couldn't have done it any other way because I know I would end up giving up. I really think what I said, because I know what it means to be on the other side and believe that you can rely on a person; I know what it means to trust to the point of canceling oneself.

This time he's the one who stops looking at me, and that's the way it should always have been. "You're right," he whispers, avoiding any possible contact as I leave his apartment and close the door behind me.

🌹

"So where have you been?" my father asks me as I pass him my empty plate.
'At Harry's. He passed by here last night and he saw me." He looks at me like I'm hiding something more. I sigh and look up.

"Dad, it's Tara's boyfriend. You know."

"Was it just you and him? "

"Yes, he lives alone," I continue, and together we sit at the counter to start having lunch.

"Do I have to worry, Ariel?" he asks me, and I know he probably isn't just referring to the situation with Harry.

"No," I answer, shaking my head. "I'm fine, and he's Tara's boyfriend."

Raise both hands in surrender. "Okay," agrees at the end, "but next time really check that you have the keys."

🌹 H A R R Y 🌹
(last night)

It's almost two in the morning and I stayed with Tara until a few minutes ago. I waited with her for everyone to leave before doing the same.
She was happy.

I'm walking through the still-lit streets of Nottingham when a Coldplay song that fills the cockpit is the only company I have. I mumble a few words singing the song, when something - which I then realize is someone - attracts my attention, when I am almost in front of the building where Ariel lives.

I park the car and look at it, making sure it is her. She is sitting on the bottom step: her shoulders are leaning against the wall behind her and her head is slightly tilted, so much so that I can barely see her face.

I can't help wondering why she sat there at this hour, if something happened to her. She winces and lifts her head when I open the door, but then she relaxes recognizing me.

"Ariel Green" I call her as I approach. She gets up and runs her hands over the dress several times.

"Harry."

"What are you doing here?" we both ask at the same time. I smile, and so she does.

She explains that she has forgotten the keys to the apartment, I tell her that I saw her absently and that she thought about stopping to check if she needed anything.

She also tried to contact her father but he doesn't answer her, so I propose to come with me. I don't know if it's a good idea, but I can't leave it here. She hesitates and opposes; I can see in his gaze why he feels stuck. I probably should be, too, but I rule out the possibility of leaving without her, knowing her out here alone.

"Come on, come on," I repeat one last time and she finally follows me. We get into the car together and when I see her continue to tighten the jacket on her shoulders I turn on the internal heating. She relaxes after a few moments and looks at me with a smile on his lips.

"Harry, where are we?" she asks me confused, not recognizing the parking lot. I thought he understood my intentions.

"At my home."

There is silence between us for most of the time: we both fear to say the wrong thing; we are still uncertain of the situation that has arisen.

"Do you live alone?" he asks me after closing the front door behind us.
I nod and tell her yes, it's just me. I don't know if he expected it, but he doesn't continue with the questions. I take her something I can change and sleep with, and while I do them I think of Tara, and if she sees me now. I shake my head, because I know he would somehow understand. I also retrieve a couple of blankets and a pillow to bring them.

When I go back to the room, Ariel is sitting on the sofa and has her cell phone in her hands; she is probably trying to contact his father again. She looks up at me and I hand my clothes before pointing out where the bathroom is. As I wait for her I settle the sofa with the covers and the pillow, she comes back a few minutes later and I look at her more than I should. The shirt is decidedly large and the same goes for shorts, but they are still fine. It's strange, because I'm used to seeing only Tara in this way, and it doesn't happen that often.

I also point to Ariel's kitchen and my room, in case she needs anything else.

"Thank you very much, Harry," she repeats and I smile at her.

"Goodnight, Ariel Green," I answer by turning off the lights and returning to my room.

I go to the bed after taking the cellphone; I unlock it when I notice that there is a message from Tara.

You are the best brother, friend and boyfriend you could wish for. Thanks for tonight, I love you.

I smile and type an answer quickly. I love you too. Good night.

I lock the screen again but I still stay with my cell phone in my hands, thinking of the girl who sleeps a few meters away.
Tara has spent many nights here, but it's not the same thing. I probably should have told her, it would definitely be up to me to do it and not Ariel.

Falling in love with Tara was inevitable, it became almost a habit after all this time even if it shouldn't be just that. I love her, but we were both pushed so much towards each other that we ended up trying. And we are still here, after two years, together despite everything. My relationship with her has always gone well, and after all her parents have done for me, I could never turn my back on her. Except that I thought I was sure of what I wanted and who I wanted, but then she came and slowly she is entering my skin, confusing and questioning everything.

🌹

"Fuck." I swear when the cup slips from my hands and collides with the floor, shattering completely. I lower myself to pick up the pieces, but while I do one, I cut my palm and the blood starts to flow from the wound. It's a small cut, but like all the other times it seems something much more serious.

"What have you done?" I look up at her and see her standing by the door as she looks at me and looks at my hand.

"I think I cut myself," I say lifting it up and showing the cut.

"Let me see," she replies, and I stand up, letting her take my hand in hers. We look at each other for a few moments before she asks me if she has anything to treat the wound.

I tell her where she can find everything and wait for her in the kitchen while I run my other hand between her hair and sigh, because having her here makes everything more difficult, especially after last night.

She comes back a little later and starts to dab me gently, but at a certain point I start to feel the skin burn and instinctively I withdraw my hand. Ariel apologizes and then continues, until I completely bandage my hand. I observe his silent movements without being able to look away from his fingers that move against my skin for even a second.

"How did you learn?" I ask her while
She still looks at my hand when she answers me.

"My father is a doctor."

She goes down to retrieve the glass splinters and I look at her, with too many questions that I would like to ask her and little courage to be able to really formulate them. And still her talking.

"You can say that, Harry," she assures me, and perhaps it shouldn't surprise me as it does; not after her words last night at the party. Then I ask him: I can't help it.

She replies that her father blames himself every day for failing to save her mother, but it is not his fault. In cases like these nobody has any faults, they remain so.

Ariel leaves the kitchen and I don't follow her, because she needs her time. She needs to be alone, even if only for a few minutes; she needs to recover herself. I finish cleaning up the remains of the cup, then I look at my hand once again and I imagine Ariel not even trying to bandage his pieces, to get back together.

Ariel leaves the kitchen and I don't follow her, because she needs her time. She needs to be alone, even if only for a few minutes; she needs to recover herself. I finish cleaning up the remains of the cup, then I look at my hand once again and imagine Ariel not even trying to bandage his pieces, to get back together.

I also go out to reach her, but she doesn't notice me and then I look at her while she is in front of the bookstore to glance over the titles. I take one off, I recognize it immediately: it's Jane Eyre.

"I've never thought you were a fangirl of Charlotte Brönte." I tell her.

She closes the book and strokes the cover with her fingers several times. She smiles as he does so.

"It was my mother's favorite book. I have your copy here with me, I keep it as if it were the most precious thing I have."

"It's a beautiful thing, Ariel," I say, moving closer to her. Before we both realize it, we're closer than we might be - we should be.

Ariel looks away from mine several times, but it is when she turns completely around that I feel the need to bring her back to me.

I touch her shoulder and then my arm with my fingers, until she turns again. I still lean towards her and my hands are on her hips; his breath touches my lips. The book slips from her hands until it collides with the floor. Ariel jerks away.

"Harry ..." she whispers and I let my hands drop from her hips. "We can't," she continues and walks further away, until she retrieves the book from the floor and ends up with her clothes. She disappears down the corridor before I can realize it.

I run my fingers through my hair and only now I understand: if that book hadn't slipped, I know I probably wouldn't have stopped. And I know she wouldn't have done it either. Only now do I understand what I was going to do; and I don't know if I would call it an error.
For Ariel I feel something that I cannot explain: it is an attraction that goes further and that I have never tried for anyone, not even for Tara.

🌹

When I hear the sound of the shoes he wore yesterday evening, knocking on the floor, I leave my room. She is already in front of the door when I gently grab her wrist.

"I know what you're doing, Ariel," I say letting her go.

Look up at my face. "And what would I be doing, Harry?"

I answer her with what we both feel, what she doesn't want to be told; a truth she cannot accept. "Harry, we can't," she repeats.

"But it could have happened."

She asks me what I mean by that, but I don't know the answer either. I don't know how far we will be able to avoid and deny that red thread that inevitably keeps us tied from the first moment we met.

Except that she talks about Tara, about me and her together, and so I give up too. "You're right," I whisper without even looking at her as she leaves the apartment and just waiting for the door to close behind her.