Disclaimer: I do not own Spooks.
Chapter word count: 618
A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews! Some of you have taken the "two words" thing quite seriously. :-)
Nine.
That's how many times she rang his doorbell.
She finally brought herself to talk to Dimitri, and he told her Harry didn't go anywhere during the inquiry. He was at home, waiting. Ruth could tell from her colleague's tone that he seemed to urge her to do something. He sounded relieved she asked, as if she were the only one who could somehow fix the situation. That's when she realised just how lost the other officers were since Harry was gone.
Her heart was beating fast as she was walking towards Harry's house. God, what was she doing, showing up like that? She thought it would be better not to ring him before. She needed to actually see him.
She rang the doorbell and took a few steps back.
She knew he was there, the television was on, and she heard the sound of his voice, probably on the phone, when she arrived. The walls were thin, and the window was open. But he didn't answer the door. Perhaps he thought she was someone else. She rang again, pressing the button a little bit longer each time to make sure he heard.
'He must have heard by now', she thought. Maybe she should call him. She opened her handbag and searched for her phone, but then remembered she left it on her living room table. 'Shit', she whispered.
She heard footsteps inside the house, coming closer to the door. He was right behind it, she was sure of it. Only a few inches away from her; she could almost feel him. She stepped closer to the door; put both her hands on it, secretly hoping she could turn into a ghost and cross it just by pressing herself against it. 'Harry', she whispered. She thought she heard something again, but no answer came. 'Harry', she called, louder this time, feeling the tears she had been holding back for days suddenly threatening to come out.
Ten minutes passed, and there she was, her forehead against his door. Ten minutes; and yet it felt like so much more. It always did when you were waiting for a miracle you knew wouldn't happen. A tear or two found their way down her cheeks. She didn't even bother to brush them away. He couldn't even see them, so what did it matter?
Finally, she took a deep breath and stepped away. There is no point, she thought. She turned around and started walking, forcing herself not to look back.
Ruth only stopped walking when she found a bench in a small garden, a few streets away from Harry's house. Her legs were shaking and she needed to sit down. She took deep breaths, sending the tears back to where they came from.
What was she thinking? This was useless, hopeless. They were hopeless, acting like young people who didn't want to make choices and old people not daring to hope anymore at the same time.
She hadn't wanted to forgive him and finally build something with him when he had given her the chance to, and now it was too late. He didn't want her anymore. He had moved on. If she was honest with herself, she had to admit she didn't think he would. At least, not this fast. She didn't take him for granted but she felt that he would always be there somewhere, waiting for her.
If he had opened the door to shout at her and send her away, she might have not felt so crushed. But this… He didn't even want to see her face again.
'I was wrong', she thought.' Now it's time to move on'.
'Time to move on Ruth', she whispered to herself.
Thank you for reading. Please leave me a review. :-)
Next chapter should be longer and we will have a bit of Harry's POV.