Chapter seventy-three

In response to my request for them to leave, Lilli decides it would be a decent idea to leave all the belongings to us to take home. But Ben notices how loaded our backs are gonna be and is kind enough to pick up the beach towels to take back to the ship. It's only the early afternoon, but Emily's stomach growls uncontrollably as we pack up, and she won't stop talking about wanting to drink Miso Soup. Finally, Charlie cracks.

"What's the deal with Miso Soup, anyway?" he queries, a weary smile plastered on his face.

"Ha! What's the deal? I'm sure you of all people would — oh wait, you're Chinese, aren't you? Not Japanese." Emily asks.

"Three-quarters Chinese, yes."

"Right. Well, nevermind then," she says, waving off the conversation. "You wouldn't know, I guess, but there's this one anime that —"

"OKAY! That's enough of that for one day, hey, guys?" Lilli booms, drowning out Emily's steadily loudening fangirl voice (a talent, really). "Let's go get lunch!"

"Hell yeah!" Emily beams. "I wonder if they have pork-cutlet bowls."

"Hate to break it to you, Emily, but we're not in Japan right now," Lilli says dully.

"I wanna go to Japan. Just let me dream, okay?" Emily whines.

"Whatever you say, WEEB."

Ben shoulders the backpack, and Harry thanks him again for the gesture. Lilli starts to trek back towards the town, and Charlie obediently follows.

"'Weed'?" Ben questions. "Like, seaweed?"

"So many uncultured swines surround me. I may faint." Emily feigns swooning, linking her arm with Ben and dragging him to follow Lilli and Charlie. She waves over her shoulder. "See you two later!"

We wave them good-bye, then turn to each other. As he stares at me, waiting, I start to chuckle.

"What?"

"Nothing," I say. Clearly not nothing. "It's just your face," I admit.

The left side of his mouth turns up a little. "What about my face?"

I burst out laughing, and I feel the need to cry into his chest. When I finally calm down, I reach up and lay a hand bravely on his cheek. His smile fades again. "You have a very nice face," I tell him.

With all the honesty and seriousness in the world, Harry replies, "You do too."

I hum softly, closing my eyes. Someone has brought a louder speaker and is playing Australia's top hits of the year. The sounds of the ocean battle the music, but the combination is exhilarating. Finally, I pull away from Harry and crouch to pick up a backpack.

"Are you hungry, Harry?" I ask, not waiting for a response as I stand. "Let's go get lunch."

I turn, expecting him to follow, possibly link his arm with mine, but I instead feel a tug on my shoulder. I turn my head to meet eyes with him, and lower my gaze to his hand gripping my bag strap tight. I can't help but be reminded of yesterday at the markets, when I told Harry to hang onto my strap. He had laid his head on my shoulder yesterday.

With a small smile, I let myself turn to him, but instead of letting go of the strap, he uses it to pull me towards him. In his eyes, there's an undefeatable fire, and a burning desire to… to… be free. We're on this island together, with all the freedom in the world, to do whatever we please, whenever we feel it, but I have a feeling Harry is trapped no matter where he goes. No matter what he does, no matter what he feels.

We're inches from each other, but to me, the distance is a thousand miles. Harry's been this close to me, and as of last night, closer. But never this connected. I don't move, because I'm afraid that if I reach forward, he'll slip away from me, as quick as his smiles do now.

His hand slides from the strap of my back to the nape of my neck, and his skin hovers over mine. The gesture makes me shiver, but I press against his hand, savouring the warmth there and in his eyes, drinking it all in. I expect the moment to pass, for him to realise what he's doing, how close he is right now, but Harry doesn't pull away. His lips draw nearer.

"Harry," I breathe.

He pauses. I think I've done it again; pushed too far somehow. But his lips part in the slightest, and the addicting puff of his breath brushes my cheek.

"I didn't finish what I was doing last night, Tasmin."

I swallow the pulse of fear in my throat and let my eyelids fall closed. I prepare for the hot explosion on my lips, the congealing of our quick breathing, the comfort in his arms.

"OI!"

I break away from Harry, grabbing his arms and flicking my head from side to side. He stares at me for a second, then notices the sudden shout and follows my eyes.

"This is a public beach, with children and families!" The loud and intimidating voice belongs to a man of about fifty (but the dark tan and sun wrinkles suggest that he's a lot older), with a bulging beer belly over abnormally tight blue swimming boxers. "Take that somewhere else, would you?!" he yells at us.

We turn to each other and Harry says, "Actually, I am quite hungry."

He throws the other bag over his shoulder and takes the final bag in hand and we take our leave, as fast as we can. As we run, I glance over at Harry, and… at his lips. I almost trip when he lets out a laugh.