[Rosie's POV]
Before my fingers could make contact, a firm hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.
I stumbled, the sudden force sending a jolt of surprise through my chest.
Harry's face was a mask of calm, but his eyes sparkled with something I couldn't read, irritation, maybe, or something sharper, quickly smoothed over.
"Rosie, I'm exhausted, let's leave now," he said, his voice light, almost playful, but there was an edge that made the words feel like a warning, like I shouldn't have been here in the first place.
He tugged me away from the gate, his grip firm but gentle, as if he were steering a child away from danger.
There was no pudding on his face as he must have cleaned it but the stain was still on his shirt.
"Leave where?" I asked with probing eyes.
"We should be watering the garden," he added, glancing toward the open windows where the evening sun painted the lawn in gold.
"You distracted me, and now the roses are thirsty," he said.
