"We agreed to move on…so move on."
Self explanatory really. She really doesn't want to talk about him, does she? But something at to have happened to make her say this, something had to have happened to make them 'agree' to move on. And this is my take on it.
He had asked if you wanted a few days off. He had said it was because you hadn't had a holiday so far this academic year, but you knew why it really was. And you had refused; dignified and calm, you had thanked him, but you'd manage all the same.
You didn't expect it to be as hard as it was.
That first day without Harry.
The Lyell centre seemed just that little bit darker somehow, shadows licked at the walls and curled themselves around the legs of your desks, crawling up the sides of your chair and into your mind. They frightened you, and it made it almost impossible to think.
And so, unable to think, you turned to laborious, manual jobs instead. He walked in to find you dusting Harry's desk, and dusting again, not leaving an inch untouched.
Nikki…He had said, sympathetically, though there was pain in his voice too. And you couldn't stand it, you couldn't hear him like that. People used to use that tone with you when your Mother died, mainly high-flying friends of your Father's who had never cared for you before in the slightest. It made you feel almost embarrassed and uncomfortable with your emotions. When Leo uses it, it makes you feel weak, it makes you want to crumble, and before your lip has time to tremble, you begin to talk, to drown him out, to drown out the atmosphere, to chase away the shadows.
Can't remember the last time he cleaned this. You complain. Probably never. So I'm cleaning it now. You state. I can't work while everything is this filthy-
He cuts you off then, using his assertive boss tone; gentle still, but firm.
He asks Are you coping okay? When you don't answer, choosing instead to rattle some stationary around, he asks Did you and Harry talk before he left? You shut out the mention of his name, you can't, you won't hear his name. But Leo won't let it go. He insists Harry cared a great deal for you, that's why I can't understand –
It is your turn to cut him off. On the mention of his name for the second time, your hand – still vigorously swiping at the desk before you – slips, hits his abandoned mug and sends it flying to the floor. Leo is silenced by the ear-tingling smash as it hits the office floor.
Slip.
I don't want to hear anymore, You say, calmly. One slip, but you remain composed. Can we agree to just…just move on from this!
For a moment, Leo simply stares and you wonder if you have given yourself away. You swallow, hard and blink a few times, before conjuring up your most relaxed, contented smile you can muster.
After a while he says Okay, lets move on.
You hold your freezing fingers in your palms, soothing, holding them still to quell the shaking. You tell him that you'll go and get a broom to clean up.
No. Leo protests. I'll get it…Accidents happen.