Harry Lockhart used to be great. Now he’s amazing (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bad_narrator) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} wariscoming, |
It was Regina who came running up to him this time, open smile and bright-eyed. Her arms wrapped around him and he stiffened, but he didn't try to escape the embrace. She felt warm against the icy air, hugging him tight. Loose threads of her hair teased at his face in the wind; he could smell her shampoo.
This would have been really nice, in the real Lawrence. His eyes slipped shut, and for a moment, he could almost pretend. It was comforting. But then he caught that little whisper and his eyes flew open again, shattering the image. Harry scolded himself for almost getting drawn in. Not real he mouthed without any breath, and started to resist the embrace, shoulders hunching and his hands coming up between them to push her away as he backed up.
He watched her with wide-eyed suspicion, but not much interest. There was never much he could do here. He could run, but someone always caught up in the end. This one was a waiting game, waiting for betrayal and pain and death. It was a matter of how long it would take and who it would be. Maybe this time was Regina's turn.