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It was hard.
After waking up, surrounded by empty bottles, without any memories, Harry stopped drinking. He was afraid that this will happen again. That he will not be able to control himself. That a glass will turn into a bottle, one will turn into ten and then… he will forget everything.
He didn’t want to forget.
He didn’t want to forget running through Martinaise. The shortness of breath that made him stop only to run again soon. Walking seemed too slow. He couldn’t not run. Run towards new task or new clue. Run with Kim.
He didn’t want to forget all the feelings of Martinaise. The nice coldness of rain. The sound of water around the island. The one that he could hear even while sleeping. The wind that ruffled through his hair, that brought all sorts of sounds and smells. The one that he felt while going to Evrart Claire. Going with Kim.
He didn’t want to forget people of Martinaise. All of them. From Evrart to Joyce, from Measurehead to Steban. And especially Cuno and Cunoesse. Kids that if they were born in other time, in other place, in other conditions could become great, wonderful people. But they weren’t. And there was no helping them. Just as there was no helping him without Kim.
He didn’t want to forget Kim. His voice. His smile. Those moments, when “detective” or “officer” became soft “Harry”. The smell of his cigarettes. The quiet noise of his pen when he was writing something. His bright eyes behind the glasses.
And Harry carried on.
The thoughts about booze quite often were in his head. Every time when they were running near Frittte. Every time he saw an empty bottle on the ground. He knew that Kim wouldn’t be able to stop him from drinking. But the thought of his judging look, the one that clearly showed disappointment… Harry kept going. He looked away from things that made him think about booze.
After returning from Martinaise it became harder.
Everyone around knew Harry as an alcoholic. The one that could disappear for weeks because he was drinking. He couldn’t convince them that he changed.
But beside him stood Kim. His orange sun. Orange straw that he was holding onto to not fall into alcohol again.
Every time he appeared near a bar, he thought of Kim. Just his fading smile made him stop and turn away. He couldn’t break that trust. Something inside him knew that if he will stop fighting, if he will return to drugs and alcohol, Kim will go away. Forever. Just as She did.
•••
Harry couldn’t tell the exact time when he fell in love. Just one day, when they were standing on a balcony, he realized it.
Kim was smoking his only cigarette, while Harry was breathing in smoke. He feasted his eyes on his partner. His straight back, small, almost female, hands, soft hair that moved in the wind. He admired how the sun reflected in his glasses.
He fell in love.
And he absolutely didn’t know what to do with it. Except, maybe, to love.
•••
One day was especially hard. He was stuck in a case he worked on alone. There was no help. And he almost gave up. Almost did what he knew he did before in such situations. Almost listened to the voice that told him that booze and drugs will surely help.
Head hurt from all the thoughts. All the screaming voices. That part of his brain that wanted to get back to substances almost won, almost shut the other ones.
He’s found himself on the steps of Kim’s apartment. Not his own, the one that has that store with alcohol near it. Kim. His Orange sun, the one that helped him before.
Harry realized that he was crying a second before Kim opened the door. He was standing, wearing a T-shirt. An orange T-shirt.
– Please… – Harry felt how pathetic he looked in front of this angel. – I need you…
Kim didn’t close the door. He didn’t look at him with disgust he deserved. He looked worried. And he let Harry in.
Harry felt how peaceful it was inside. He knew that if Kim was to shut the door before his nose, all would’ve been lost. But here it was quiet. The voice inside Harry’s head finally wasn’t shouting at him.
Everything was okay.
Kim was here.
Maybe it was a sudden change of atmosphere. Maybe it was warm green tea in his hand. Maybe it was the same voice in the head. The one that before shouted about booze and drugs now talked about Kim. His hair, his eyes, his lips
Harry kissed him.
It was all he dreamed of for months. He was happy.
But only for a moment.
In the next second, he realized what he’s done. He broke the kiss. He was weak. He was dumb. Now it’s over. Now he’s opened up and will suffer the consequences. It was time to get back. Everyone was right. He was the only one ruining–
Kim kissed him.
Harry didn’t get to finish the last thought. Soft lips were on his, the long thin fingers were in his hair.
They broke the kiss again. Kim was smiling his soft quiet smile, while everything inside Harry burned and exploded.
– I love you too, – said Kim.
Everything was okay.