The soft tap of Harry's shoes joined by the soft pats of my own follow us as we walk around the large, spacious room. The taps are music to my ears and I find myself wishing that I never have to hear the clicks again. Hands rest in the pockets of my trousers while Harry's hang at his sides. Neither of us feels the need to talk.

With each step and each second that passes I find myself being drawn closer and closer to the lamb walking beside me. Why would I ever want to go back to the snake? What did I find in the snake to begin with? Why shouldn't I leave the snake for the lamb?

I feel heavy in my suit jacket and my feet drive me back to my original table with Harry not far behind. Slowly, I find myself stripping my jacket off and hanging it on my abandoned chair. Green eyes take note of my choice as he slips off his own jacket and drapes it across the seat of my chair.

"It's quite hot," Harry comments.

I can't help but let out a small smile at the sight of the two suit jackets on my chair. Plain, dark black next to pale pink and gold. A beautiful, wonderful oxymoron.

I can't keep my eyes from glancing hungrily at Harry. A wanting spreads through my chest. I don't want to share him with anyone else. I'm hungry for him, but not like the lions. I don't want to tear him to shreds. I don't want to kill his happiness and gleam and glow. My heart is hungry, not my pocket book.