Eggsy never ceased to amaze him. How was it that he assaulted Harry so easily with his affection, and then pulled away before Harry was ready to let go? The boy marched to the beat of his own drum, and everyone simply fell into step behind him like a damned procession.

Was Harry getting older (and more sentimental), or was Eggsy getting stronger and faster? For the first time in his life he found himself struggling to keep up with someone.

His heart wasn't what it used to be, for better or for worse.

Harry composed himself as Eggsy did. Removed his glasses to politely swipe the lenses beneath the table before replacing them on his face, and shifted to sit with corrected posture. The tears would dry out of the quick-wicking suiting material in a matter of minutes.

"How quaint." He lifted his pint glass to his mouth and took a longer than necessary drink, silently praying it would turn to bourbon upon hitting his stomach. There wasn't enough beer in the bar to settle his nerves, or the sneaking suspicion of what Eggsy's participation in the Valentine fiasco truly meant.

"By 'we', who are you referring to, exactly? It's... peculiar to me that a junior agent such as yourself would have been directly involved."