Author's Note: I made a little moodboard for this chapter if you want to check it out, it's on my Tumblr at "erickawrites"
Melody finally managed to drag in that first breath of air as six feet of pirate blustered through the ballroom. She tried to ignore him as he strode across the hall to where Uma stood with Gil at the beverage cart. But even when he was half-hidden behind crowds of dancers and ball-goers, ignoring Harry Hook was an impossible feat. His body simply dominated the entire space. And in typical Harry fashion, he ignored all the rules, not even bothering with a mask at the masquerade. She wasn't sure how every other person in the room was simply going on with their business and not stopping to appreciate his commanding entrance.
He wore a longline swallowtail coat in a deep burgundy velvet that was vintage, but edgy, accentuating his roguish charm in a style that seemed tailor-made for Harry himself. Black embroidered spirals like cresting waves detailed the chest and cuffs, coordinating with a black shirt and black long pants below it. Not a bit of shin showing from Harry meant that this was a real black tie event.
He'd even combed his hair out of his eyes. Gods, those eyes. She could feel him watching her from across the room now. She'd almost forgotten how it felt, the heat of his gaze on her skin. But her body remembered and was picking up right where they'd left off.
She had to suppress a groan. Why did he have to be so agonizingly handsome?
Closing her eyes, she tried to enjoy the dance with Wesley, but found she was now so distracted she was having a hard time with the steps.
"You should talk to him," Wesley said. "It's obvious you still have feelings for him."
She swallowed hard, and rested her eyes on Wesley, hoping her expression gave him the thanks she intended it to. He was so sweet, and he really didn't deserve to be in the middle of this. She hoped that he knew how much his friendship meant. He'd saved her grades and now, he'd saved the ball for her. She was lucky to have gotten to know him better.
"Wesley, I'm really glad you asked me to dance," she said, giving him a light squeeze. "I've been having a great time. I'm sorry I'm so distracted."
A sturdy hand gripped Wesley's shoulder from behind.
"'Ello Wesley."
And even though the greeting was directed to Wesley, Harry stared unwaveringly at Melody with every word he spoke.
Up close, she could see the evidence that the last few days had not been kind to Harry, either. Dark purple half-moons were carved under his eyes and his skin seemed sallow, lacking the boyish flush of excitement, the vigor for life that usually radiated from him in waves.
"Would yeh mind if I asked the lass for a dance? I promise just the one. And only if she wants to o' course."
That low drawl rolling off his tongue curled her toes despite her every attempt to stay neutral.
"Sure, Harry," Wesley said, stepping back and looking to Melody for her answer.
Her voice was stuck again as she stared up at Harry. She'd now fallen so deep into those pale blue depths she thought there was a chance she may never surface again.
"I – uh –" She had to clear her throat and start again. "One dance."
"Deal," Harry agreed before nodding to Wesley. "Thank yeh, mate. And I'm sorry about the last time we talked, I was a right bampot. Gotta get better at usin' me head it seems."
"No worries," he said, offering Melody a knowing smile before leaving them alone.
And there they stood, in the middle of the dance floor. Eyes locked, bodies stiff. And it felt like time stopped. Dancers twirled and spun around them, but she and Harry were trapped. Trapped in each other's gaze. Trapped in this moment in between. In between what she didn't know exactly, but she could tell this was one of those moments. A crucial, yet ephemeral sort of instant that would define more than just this night. And they both knew it, felt the weight of it smothering them.
Until Harry finally spoke.
"Give me one dance." He seemed to remember how to move as he took a single step toward her. "One full song to talk to yeh, lass. And if yeh still dinnae want to see me again, I promise yeh, I'll leave yeh be."
And his worry line was deeper than she'd ever seen it, twisting those ever-joyful eyes into something so sorrowful, she couldn't stand to watch the expression any longer. And she would have agreed to the dance if only to make it stop.
"Okay, Harry."
That was all he needed before closing the remaining space between them and offering her his left hand. She took it, sliding her fingers across his palm and that touch was a sizzle of electricity between them. A jolt of high-powered current straight to her heart and with it, she felt the organ spring to life again.
After days of feeling nothing, her blood was crashing through her veins as he placed his other hand under her shoulder blade and she brought hers to rest on his shoulder. With that mutual touch, it was as though an electric circuit was completed, and her heart vibrated with the energy.
Melody realized then how dead she'd felt over the last few days. She'd been going through the motions of her life, but this was the first jolt of living she'd had.
Harry's shoulders rose and fell with an uneven breath as though needing to collect himself. Then, they were moving.
He wasn't as graceful as Wesley Darling, but Harry had swagger. Each of his steps was purposeful and confident, demanding the attention of every eye in the hall. And he pulled her much, much closer than Wesley ever dared.
That was when the onslaught to her senses really began. Because with his closeness came his familiar smell, leather and the sea, and … soap. He was freshly bathed, but it was still so familiar, his scent carried her off into those memories of him she'd tried so hard to move past.
Thankfully, he held her too close to study her face as she went through all of these experiences in the mere seconds it had taken him to lead her in one circle around the floor.
Then he pulled away just enough to watch her, still leading her in a gentle waltz, as he began to speak. "Yeh look stunning, Melody," he said. "Reminds me of the first time I saw yeh as a mermaid when we were tryin' to escape from me Da's ship. Yeh had me so distracted I nearly got stabbed through from behind from gawkin' at yeh."
And Melody thought of a thousand things she wanted to say, but she said none of them. She was too busy studying the details of the embroidery on his lapels, marveling at the glossiness of his freshy combed hair, feeling the shifting sway of his body as he led her across the floor, and simultaneously warring with herself for noticing all of these things.
"Melody, I've put yeh through hell and for that, I'm sorry. I should never have lied, I shou'dnae have hidden what I was."
Harry inhaled deeply as though he was already out of breath, and she knew it wasn't from the dance. His eyes fell closed briefly, his expression reminding her of the look someone got just before they were about to dive into cold water.
"Me Da' hated me mother. Hated her for trickin' him into bein' with her, siren as she was. So, he hated me, too. That's the source of all of it, lass. And I buried it so deep, it took yeh comin' along to help me start to unbury all the feelin's around it."
His voice grew tight then, as though he was forcing the words out through a throat that did not want to cooperate. "Smee said Ma loved Da' as much as to kill for him. Says he saw it himself. But Da' denied anything more than a fling."
Harry led her into a turn, watching her twirl, seemingly mesmerized as his eyes reflected the shining glitter of the chandeliers overhead. Then, the expression dampened as he fell back into his explanation.
"Smee says she brought me to Da's ship after I was born and left me there, not knowin' how to care for someone with legs. She was killed shortly after and I dinnae know much more than that. I never told anyone about who me mother was. About who I was. And me Da' threatened to slit the throat of anyone who breathed a word about any of it."
Melody allowed her tightly pressed lips to soften a bit. She relaxed the frown she could feel carved between her eyebrows, too, giving him some encouragement to continue. He'd lied to her, she'd been beyond hurt, but something inside of her was relieved that he was sharing these things with someone.
"I never knew I had the power of the siren's song meself 'til last summer, when I sang a bit of that sea shanty yeh heard me singin'. I noticed how it perked up Uma's crew, made 'em work harder and faster."
He rolled his jaw as though convincing the muscles of his mouth that he needed to keep talking. "So I started experimentin'. Nae much at first, nae for long. But I discovered I had the power and I started practicin'."
She realized then, that she'd gradually drifted closer to him as they circled around the dance floor. Her arm had slid from his shoulder, now wrapped lower around his back. And his hand, too had wandered, from her shoulder blade to the curve of her waist.
"I went back to the Isle last summer to help Uma at the Chip Shoppe and sang to a pair o' back alley thugs who tried to nick the tips I'd earned. Me song worked even better than me hook. Not as messy either."
She almost smiled at that. Almost.
The soft velvet of his jacket rubbed gently against the front of her dress as he leaned in closer, eyes fixed on her necklace. "That first day in Oceanography, I'd planned to try to steal yer locket. I sat next to yeh the first day because of it."
This was the part Melody had been bracing for and anger swelled inside her again, stiffening her limbs and she widened the space between them.
Harry must have seen her face harden in that moment, because he lightened his tone into something almost pleading.
"But by the time I actually brought myself to do it, a battle was already ragin' inside of me. I wanted the locket, aye, but I was already smitten with yeh, Melody. I could see yeh were different from the other Bore-a-don princesses. I saw yer brilliance in yer classes, yer fiery temper and sharp little tongue, and I was already fallin' for yeh."
He sighed, dance steps growing forced and choppy before closing his eyes like this next admission was actually going to be painful for him. "Problem was, yeh hated me," he said.
And Melody could stay silent no longer. She squared her shoulders and wielded her words carefully, letting him feel their sharp edges, to demonstrate how much pain he'd caused her. "So, you manipulated me into falling for you."
His eyes flashed hurt, glazing over as he stared back at her, stricken. When Harry tried to inhale so he could continue, she heard the air quaking as it passed through his chest, as if his lungs refused to make room for his breath. "That night at the beach. I saw yeh comin' and then I saw yeh turn 'round and go back the other way."
His voice softened to just above a whisper. "I made the worst mistake of me life that night. I saw yeh walkin' away and I cou'dnae stand it." His expression tensed as every one of his facial muscles battled to hold back the tide of emotion threatening below the surface. "I needed the locket, aye. But it wisnae just that. I just - I wanted to talk to yeh. I think if I could have been more patient, we might've become friends anyway. But I let me villainous ways get the better of me. I didnae have the strength to let yeh walk away, so I called yeh to sit by me."
He stopped moving then as the dancers around them continued to waltz. And he took one step closer, eyes promising her the truth.
"But I swear to yeh Melody, I never manipulated yer feelings for me after that song. And I swear it now, I'll never use me song in that way again, no matter what happens."
The set of his jaw and the hard line of his brow told her he was being honest.
"Unless it's needed to protect yeh or what have yeh. The only time I used it after that first night on the beach was against those Neverland mermaids, to pull yeh away from them."
When he finally lifted her hand in his to resume their dance, his palm was sweaty. His lips were drawn into a thin line and all of his muscles in his shoulder, where her other hand rested, were rock hard with tension.
He was waiting. He was waiting for her response.
And that was when she knew, Harry had been planning this moment for the last two days. Probably agonizing over what he would say, over this dance, over her next words.
And what could she say?
She knew now that she still cared for him, that her feelings had been real. His friendship had become something precious to her. But she also knew that he had hurt her deeply by lying, again, and not trusting her with the truth. It was hard to move past all of this when the whole relationship had begun with a lie.
Well, Melody had promised to tell him the truth. No matter what. So as they swayed together, hopelessly out of time with the music, she told him exactly what she was thinking. All of it.
"Harry," she began, her voice much smaller than she wished it could be. "I'm going to be brutally honest with you right now. I've cried more in the last few days than I've ever cried in my life."
He winced as though she'd struck him. But he needed to hear all of her truth now.
"I was honest with you about everything. Opening up about things that would have embarrassed me to tears before meeting you. And when I found out it all started with a lie, it felt like my heart was torn out and replaced with empty space. It still hurts."
Harry was having trouble keeping up his steps now, losing his place and stumbling. But he never took his eyes off her as she continued to communicate everything to him.
"After I found out you used your siren song on me at the beach, I felt betrayed. It made me feel like I couldn't trust my own feelings for you."
And that familiar burning behind her eyes had now begun again along with the ache in her throat that continued to build with the effort of keeping her tears at bay. She exhaled, losing her battle with her emotions as their dancing grew even more pathetically out of step.
Harry reached out with shaky fingers, brushing away a tear that had streamed down her cheek.
"I cannae stand that I made yeh cry, that I'm still makin' yeh cry." His lip wobbled and he'd gone very stiff as he tried to keep tempo with the music. "If someone else would have hurt yeh like this, Melody, I think I would have skewered them on the end of me blade. But it was me that did this to yeh. That did this to us."
His voice broke on that last word and his eyes fluttered closed. But with these truths, these revelations, it was as though Melody was witnessing the collapse of Harry's outer walls. He was shedding the last of his armor right in front of her as dancers waltzed on around them as though the world hadn't just completely shifted underneath their feet.
"I am so sorry, Melody. I'm a thoughtless, lyin' pirate. But I'm tryin' me best to change me ways." He slid his hands from their waltz position, to rest tentatively on her hips. He wasn't even trying to dance anymore. She wasn't sure he could if he wanted to. "I care so much for yeh, that it actually hurts. And I want yeh to know that I will do anything to try to be someone worthy of yeh."
His gaze went soft in that moment, transforming from a dark, stormy sky to the vibrant blue of the summer sea and she knew what he was going to say before the words formed on his lips. Because she could see them in his eyes. "I love yeh, Melody."
The song they'd been dancing to stopped suddenly, along with her heart. And as the DJ slowly began to shift into a different waltz, Melody began to process what Harry had said.
He loved her.
And those siren's eyes had her now, pulling her into their depths like a ship into a whirlpool. She didn't know what to say. She was lost, searching for something in his face. A clue of what to do, of how to respond.
"Looks like me time's up," he said, giving her the saddest excuse for a smile she had ever seen in her life.
"Harry, it's ok, we can – "
"Nae. I want yeh to have fun with yer friends without worryin' about me. Dance some more with Wesley and Jane. All I ask is that yeh think on what I said. And if yeh decide yeh can forgive me, I'll be settin' sail tomorrow at sunrise on the Revenge."
Then he closed the space between them until she felt the warm press of his body against hers. That pulsing current between them was back, suspending her awkwardly in that moment. Her limbs felt heavy, cumbersome, and she had no idea what do with her hands, so she let them hang limply at her sides.
Harry leaned down, his breath ghosting across her skin as he brushed a kiss against her forehead.
She didn't have a chance to say anything more before he spun, velvet coattails fluttering behind him and headed for the exit.