Bloom
70 I’d decided to book a week off work, with no ulterior motive than to just have some time off. Just giving myself a little room to breathe, some time to clear my head, to relax and immerse myself in having no worries and doing absolutely nothing; to be blissfully un-busy. By the Monday afternoon I was bored.
I was stood looking around my flat in silence, arms folded, bottom lip extended, and it was only in that moment that I realised being un-busy didn’t really suit me. Not anymore. Maybe when I was younger, it was fine, but having a full-time job and living on my own had awoken this need in me to actually keep myself busy. “Well fuck.” I mumbled to myself. “This is rubbish.” I’d made such a fuss about taking the time off. Dave had once again been reluctant, but I’d fought another battle and he’d finally caved. I couldn’t ring up and just be like I’ve changed my mind because he’d laugh and get smug, and I’d spend the rest of the week sat at that desk being utterly miserable. I needed to try and make the most of this time off. I picked up my phone and clicked on my recent calls, finding Harry’s name within seconds and then pressing it, holding the phone up to my ear and praying he’d be free. The rest of the gang were at work, Mo was working, and Harry was one of my final hopes. He answered pretty quickly. “Hey, you.” His tender voice called. “Hi! You okay?” “I’m great, how are you?” “I’m alright, but I’m bored. I booked a week off work and I have no idea why. I’m like… four hours in and I’m bored out of my mind.” He released a low chuckle, a slight shuffling sound pushing through my speakers, and I could picture his dimpled smile perfectly. “You regretting it?” He asked. “Well, that depends. Are you working?” “No, um, I’m working the weekend so I have today and tomorrow off. You wanna do something?” “I need to do something.” “So you’re using me for entertainment?” “Are you complaining?” I raised my brows. “Not at all.” I smiled down to the floor, blushing somewhat, pleased that he didn’t mind that he was now on my list of people who I wanted to spend my time with. Harry was happy that I was choosing him to keep me occupied; to extinguish my boredom. “Good. You better not be.” I cooed. “So, what can we do?” “I was thinking the other day, about the book you got me for Christmas. I was looking through it. I still love it, by the way.” “Good, I’m glad.” “But I was also thinking… you never took me down to that bookstore. Where you got it from. You said you would.” “I did.” I giggled. “So let’s go, and we’ll take the day from there.” 71 I was looking at Harry rather than looking at the literature. His eyes were glistening as he glanced over the words of a giant book he’d picked out, something historical that looked ridiculously complicated and ridiculously heavy. But he looked so happy. Stood among the poetry and wonder of the written word, Harry Styles looked exquisitely blissful, his smile affectionate, his curls defined, eyes alight and heart heavy. He looked wonderful. Truly beautiful. I concentrated on his large hands as he flicked through a few more pages, running his hands down the paper and inhaling the scent of the book in his hands and those that surrounded him. The bookstore was tiny, and every single shelf looked like it could fall apart at any second under the weight of the books they’d homed. Every single inch of the place needed painting, or at least dusting, but it was perfect. It felt like home whenever I walked in. Dodging down those tiny little aisles and searching for hidden treasures was one of my favourite things to do. Harry seemed to be enjoying it too. “I need this book.” He sighed wistfully. “But we have entire day planned, and it’s just gunna weigh me down, isn’t it?” “It looks heavy.” “It’s pretty fucking heavy.” He nodded, placing it back on the shelf. “I’ll have to come back another day. I hope it’s not gone.” “It won’t be. I’m pretty sure Arthur only has about ten people who come in here. He knows everyone by name. He’s great.” “Well, I need to meet him.” “You do. C’mon.” I instinctively took his hand in mine, pulling him towards the back of the store, whispering a timid curse to myself when I noticed Harry tightened his fingers around my hand. I thought back to when we’d shared a taxi just over a week ago, and found our fingers intertwining, and it had felt like the most normal thing in the world. It didn’t feel normal in the light of day without a drink in me. I could tell that it was weird that I’d just naturally take his hand in mine and think barely anything of it. I found that my fingers wove through his like silk, our touches easing together. And even though I was silently cringing as I dragged him in the right direction, wondering how we’d ended up being that way together, I still didn’t want to pull my hand from his. I liked that I could feel his thumb rubbing against my skin, like a silent comfort. I liked that my hand was stretched to suit the size of his grasp. I liked everything about it. “Arthur!” I yelled gently. We stood behind the tiny counter at the back, our hands still linked, and a few moments later he pottered through the back door, his glasses falling off the end of his nose before he pushed them back up, bringing the two of us into focus. “Florence!” His smile grew with the word. “Where’ve you been?” “I’ve been busy, but I’ve still been raving about this place, don’t worry.” I giggled. “I brought a friend of mine. This is Harry.” Harry automatically reached his hand across the counter to the frail man, who reached back, and his smile warmed my soul. “Nice to meet you, sir.” Harry greeted. “I can’t remember the last time someone called me sir.” Arthur chuckled, gently shaking his hand. “I told Harry all about this place. He’s been very eager to visit.” “You have a lovely store.” Harry returned his hand to his side, squeezing my own hand with his other. “It’s a great collection.” “Thank you. I’m very glad you like it. What’s your name again, sorry?” “Harry.” “And are you Florence’s boyfriend?” “No!” He replied quickly, the two of us speedily tearing our touch apart. “We’re just um… We’re good friends.” Arthur let out a soft snigger, shaking his head at the two of us. I glanced up to Harry, seeing the quizzical look in his eyes, and the sweet smile on his lips. “Yeah, I’ve read enough novels to know how that turns out.” Arthur finally said. “You must have been reading some cheesy novels.” I tried to diminish the weight of the words he’d just said. “All the great novels are.” He concluded. Freckles of pink were blooming in Harry’s cheeks, a meadow of flushed roses crafting upon his soft skin as he looked towards his feet, bashful and giddy over just a few words. My stomach bounced watching him. My head ached watching him. I’d told myself that I wanted to enter this new stage of our friendship with an open mind and an open heart, but it still felt completely bizarre when my stomach would flip over such minor tremors in his body, how sometimes even just a few words from his lovely lips could make my heart beat a little harder. It wasn’t a feeling I was accustom to. Watching him often felt like watching the sunset. This feeling that was overwhelming, consuming, magnificent and warm, like his splendid glow could illuminate every single person within reach of his light. No one else had that effect on me. I knew that. “Uh, I… It was lovely to meet you.” Harry choked, snapping me back to reality as I turned to look away from him. “I’m sure I’ll see you very soon.” “Have a lovely day.” He wished. “Thanks again, Arthur.” I said, gradually turning on my heel. It was like I felt like being outdoors would clear my head, like I could just forget Arthurs knowing snigger and that Harry would no longer feel like a warm sunset, but just like every other person in my life. I thought being outside would wash away those couple of minutes that had made me feel so weird and flustered. I felt like I’d gotten lost in a world I wasn’t familiar with, maybe one of the worlds from one of the surrounding novels. But when I finally got outside, I turned to watch Harry quickly following, his cheeks still pink. It was my universe. They were my feelings. Accompanied by the sound of seagulls, and the boats that were pulled into the docks on my left hand side, I began marching down the street, thinking I was moving with speed, but it took no effort for Harry to keep up with me. Harry and his stupid, long legs. “You alright?” He asked me. I knew he’d pick up on something, because Harry was used to slowing his pace down to accommodate for me. I was running away again, like I always did, but I was trying to keep it discrete. “I’m fine.” I shuddered, not turning to face him. “You sure?” Suddenly, I stopped, halting abruptly and taking a few deep breaths, forcing myself to just take a moment and calm down, because I was getting worked up. Harry came and stood ahead of me, his brows creased as he looked down to me. “My sisters having an engagement party next month.” I gasped. “Right?” “I don’t think I’m gunna go.” I focused my gaze on the ground. “Why?” “What the fuck has she ever done for me?” I was taking one emotion and twisting it into another. I had been completely dumbfounded by those unfamiliar thoughts of Harry, and I couldn’t deal with them. So, I altered where my thoughts were, turning his potion into poison and conjuring up the thought of my sister. “What?” Harry was completely thrown off course by my tone. “She hasn’t ever done anything for me.” I was shaking. “And-and we’re not even close. I want her to feel fucking miserable when I don’t show, because she’s never done anything for me.” I was working myself into a frenzy, barely pausing to breathe as I rushed through my words, barely even noting what I was saying. I just felt like I needed to say something; anything to take my mind to somewhere new. “I think she’d be upset, if you didn’t show, Ren.” Harry spoke gently. “Good!” I cried. “I want her to be upset!” “Is that the type of person you’re gunna be? Really? The type of person who repeats hurtful actions rather than loving ones?” I raised my head and looked at him, noticing that my bitter words had clearly left a bad taste in his mouth. The girl stood in front of him wasn’t the girl he knew. She wasn’t someone I knew, either. Throughout all the years of being beaten down by my family, I’d never let it grow into a resentment. I’d never let it develop into something where I felt the need to beat them down, too. “I… I dunno.” I finally breathed. “You shouldn’t want to stoop to her level, Ren. You’ve always made a conscious effort to rise above that bullshit. Don’t change now! Don’t mimic her! Your only intention here is to hurt her, and that’s not you! I know it’s not.” He was desperately trying to get through to me, trying to push out this weird anger that had just forced itself upon me. “I… I don’t want to hurt anyone.” I muttered. “Then don’t hurt her. You… You should go. Do what you’ve always done and rise above it. I know it must be easy, for me to say that,” He sighed. “But you… You’re an amazing person, Ren. I admire you, genuinely. Stay true to yourself, please. You’ve come so far.” I nodded, swallowing harshly, feeling sad that I’d let an anger fall over me and be the most prominent feeling I had. I knew I’d never been good at handling my emotions, but in that moment, I completely lost myself, just in an attempt not to deal with something that I was feeling. “Will you come with me?” I asked him. “Huh?” “To-to her engagement-do? It’s okay if you don’t want to, but, you made things easier over Christmas. And I’m guessing it’ll be the first time I see my mum and dad since. So, I dunno. I think I’d just like it if you were there.” He was silent for a while, rubbing the back of his hand over one of his tired eyes. Suddenly, all I could think about was if he’d had another tough night, another evening of restless sleep, and no one there to comfort him. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” He huffed. “I mean, they think we’ve broke up. Wouldn’t it be weird?” My eyes went wide, my fingers finding the material of my coat and pulling on it, mumbling to myself a little before I managed to blurt out a sentence. “Uh… Well… The thing is… I actually never told my parents we broke up.” His head whipped to me as soon as I said that. “I just… I never got round to it… Or… Fuck it, I just didn’t want to tell them. I wanted them to think we were still together.” I watched a smile force itself upon his lips, and a few seconds later he just burst out laughing, turning on his heel and marching in the other direction, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “What?” I cried, doing a little jog to catch up with him. “What?” I looked up to the side of his face, his dimple digging into his cheek and his nose beginning to crinkle, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s just funny.” He shrugged. “Because I never told my parents we split up either.” 72 I could tell that Harry was smug about the fact that he was sat on the opposite side of the bar than he usually was, Louis shaking his head at the two of us as he made us a second lot of cocktails, once again, free of charge. Harry had a smirk etched into his face the entire time. “I’m gunna slap you!” Louis scalded. “Why?” Harry played innocent. “You’re very pleased with yourself, aren’t you? That you’re not working and I am.” “It’s just fun! I never come into work unless I’m actually working. I like it.” “I fucking don’t.” Louis and Harry could have been mean to each other all night, and it would still be painfully obvious how much they cared for each other. Louis had been one of the few people that Harry trusted when it came to his dreams, and that made me like him automatically. I had met Louis a few times, and of course I liked him anyway, but that fact merely increased how highly I thought of him. He gave Harry the middle finger, but it was still ridiculously endearing. “How’ve you been, Ren?” He turned to me, lifting his eyebrows, very suggestive. It was a little strange, knowing that whenever our friends saw us spending time together, they would automatically predict we were getting back together. Whenever one of them gave me a look, like the one Louis just had, I really wanted to burst and tell them that we’d never been together. I was trying to figure out how I felt about Harry, and I could have really done with being able to do that without my friends and his friends eyeing our every move. It seemed to put all of our movements under a magnifying glass, and when I was trying to keep things realistic and simple, I didn’t like my feelings and my actions being amplified by others. “I’ve been good. How have you been, Louis?” “Other than having to work with this horrible bastard,” He gestured towards Harry. “I’ve been pretty good.” “And you’re not feeling even just a little bit sad that you’re not on this side, drinking with us?” I smirked, batting my eyelashes. “You’re as bad as each other you two!” He slammed our drinks in front of us. “I gotta go serve. I’ll be back in a minute. And you both better start being nice to me!” He scurried off to his left, attending to a woman who was leaning across the bar, probably just in the hope of being a little closer to him, squishing her breasts together and smiling dumbly. It didn’t surprise me when I saw Louis pass over his card to her after preparing her order. “Today was good.” Harry smiled, drawing my eyes back to him. “Will you be bored tomorrow, too? We could do something.” “You not bored of me?” I raised my brows. “That’s never gunna happen.” Once again, I found my head dropping, unable to look him in the eye as I giggled to myself, overcome by his aura once again. I just wasn’t used to boys looking at me in the way that Harry did. I wasn’t used to having a boy watch me with low eyes and a huge smile, or the way he always sat close to me, held himself as close as possible. I was used to either being a temporary interest to a charmless male, or a despondent sidepiece to a boy who didn’t really care about me. When Harry looked at me and said certain things, sometimes it felt otherworldly. I looked back up, finally thinking up a suitable comeback which could get a laugh out of him and make it easier to ignore how flustered I’d become, but the words died in my mouth. I watched as a girl came and tapped Harry on the shoulder, inviting him to turn and see her, and she was quite the sight. “Sorry for interrupting, but don’t you work here?” She asked him. “Uh… Yeah. Yeah, I do.” “I’ve seen you before.” She took it upon herself to sit in the seat beside him. “You look different with your hair down.” “I hope that’s a compliment.” Harry turned so he wasn’t just facing me, accepting the girls company. She had these beautiful, giant blue eyes, long blonde hair that reached almost down to her hips, and the friendliest smile in the world. Even I felt a little captivated by her. I wouldn’t have blamed Harry if he’d opted to completely turn away from me. “It’s definitely a compliment. Even though, you look good with your hair up, too.” I could feel that my hands were forming into a fist, a large intake of air pushing into my nostrils, and I turned away from the interaction. I almost felt sick. “Uh, thank you.” Harry nodded. “So, I saw you hand one of those cards out the other night,” She continued, leaning a little closer. “Does that mean you’re single?” I glanced to her again, annoyed because she was being ridiculously polite and she seemed frustratingly lovely and yet I still felt like telling her to fuck off. I couldn’t even understand what was happening, other than the fact that I hated the thought of him handing his number out, and I hated the thought of this girl speaking to him in the way she was. And I hated the thought of Harry sleeping with some girl that he didn’t even care about. Because this was how I imagined it had gone. He’d been in a bar, maybe he’d even been working, and some random girl had approached him and flirted with him, and put her body on his, and he’d accepted her affections. He’d accepted them so openly that he’d lost his virginity to her, probably without her knowledge that it wasn’t a meaningless one night stand to him. He’d lost something within a woman who wasn’t aware of what she was taking, and I hated that. I really fucking hated it. “Uh, yeah.” Harry eventually answered, seemingly slightly uncomfortable as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m single.” “Then, can I have one of those cards?” She questioned. I looked away again, raising my glass upward and putting the tip of the straw in my mouth, noticing from the corner of my eyes as Harry leant forward slightly, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve a card for her. My hands started to shake. I completely looked away, glancing down to the other side of the bar, seeing the faces of happy drinkers who weren’t fazed by this girl. Fuck, I shouldn’t have been fazed by her, but I was. I didn’t want to think about all the reasons I was bothered by her, because it was too overwhelming for me to handle, but she was really fucking bothering me, and if I thought for a second that I had a single leg to stand on, I would have asked her to leave him alone. “I’ll call you.” I heard her say. “What’s your name?” “Harry.” “I’m Genevieve.” “Nice to meet you.” He mumbled. “I hope to see more of you soon.” I plucked up the courage to look again, watching as she walked away, checking back over her shoulder to shoot him one last friendly smile, and then she went to join her friends again. Harry ran a hand through his hair before twisting on his chair again to face me, and he seemed a little stuck for something to say. “She was pretty.” I squeaked, my voice unnaturally high, my eyes on my drink. “Ren-” “But I’m sure you’re used to it. Handing out your card. Must be a nice confidence boost.” “Look at me.” “You must really-” “Ren, look at me!” He almost yelled. I turned to face him, biting my tongue and trying not to scrunch my nose, watching him look at my face and figure out my exact emotion. “What?” I asked. “Are you jealous?” “No.” I didn’t know I was lying, but I was. “If I had known you were going to get jealous, I wouldn’t have done that.” “I’m not jealous.” “Then what’s wrong?” “Nothing’s wrong!” I squawked. “I’m fine!” “You’re a terrible liar!” He half laughed. “Are you jealous? Just tell me!” “I don’t know!” I yelped. “I don’t know how I feel!” I could feel myself getting worked up and frustrated, but then I saw him smiling, this huge grin popping his lips upwards, the feeling began to wash away. “You’re jealous.” “Why is that funny to you?” “Just… You. You’re jealous about me with someone else. I… I didn’t think I’d ever see the day.” “It doesn’t mean anything!” I argued. “It means something.” He fought back. “I don’t know what, exactly. Not yet. But it means something.” “It’s just rude to flirt like that when you have company.” I shrugged, still reluctant to accept that I’d felt a large dosage of jealousy. “Then I won’t do it again.” He was still grinning like a fool. “I’ll focus all my flirting on you, if that’s what you want.” “Don’t be stupid, Harry.” “Okay.” He held his hand up in surrender. “Whatever you say.” I’d given Harry another reason to be smug, because as much as I was denying it, not just to him but to myself, I was exceptionally jealous about that girl, and how she’d spoke to him, and how she’d acted with him, and the fact that he’d willingly handed over his number in the way he had. I stirred my drink with my straw, whispering my next statement, because maybe I didn’t fully want him to hear it. “I don’t think I have any right to be jealous.” He reached out to me, taking my hand and wrapping his own around it, and his touch managed to sooth the shakes that I’d had since she approached him. “Don’t let anyone, or anything, convince you that the way you feel isn’t justified.” He soothed. With a deep inhale, I nodded, wondering why everyone in my life was having to teach me how I should deal with my emotions. I’d become so accustom to running from them, so used to looking the other way and simplifying intricate things. But the main thing was that I was taking all those lessons on board, and even if my progress was slow, things were finally starting to sink in. That was what mattered the most to me. 73 “How many days until Christmas?” Harry asked me as we turned onto my street. “What?” I laughed, buttoning up my coat now that the wind was crashing into us directly. “How many days until Christmas?” “I don’t bloody know!” I laughed. “Loads. Why?” “I wanna sing Fairytale of New York to you.” “Oh god. I don’t wanna hear it.” “Yes you do!” He objected. “Don’t lie! I know you loved it.” I had loved it, though I didn’t really want to tell him that, and it was only the 20th of March for crying out loud. I wasn’t ready to hear that bloody song yet. Even if it was Harry drunkenly trying to sing the words again. Neither of us were too drunk, but I knew Harry had consumed enough that he would be able to get a decent night’s sleep, and I liked that. He deserved to have a lovely night’s sleep. I felt like maybe Harry deserved a lot of things he didn’t have. “You’re a fool.” I told him. “What are we doing tomorrow?” He asked next. “Who said we’re doing anything?” I cried. “Me. I demand that we spend the day together.” “You demand?” I cried. “Yes. I demand.” I laughed to myself as I held the door open for him, letting him inside my building again. I’d told him I’d be fine getting home on my own, but once again, Harry had been pretty insistent that he got me home and made sure I was safe. I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t fight it, just asked if we could walk. Maybe I just wanted a bit of extra time with him. We took the few flights of stairs, and suddenly we’d ran out of words. It must have been one of the first times all day that I’d struggled for something to say. Even when I’d been overwhelmed by my feelings and even when I’d gotten jealous of that girl, I’d still managed to blurt something out, because speaking to Harry was incredibly easy for me. Even though we weren’t speaking, I noticed as we wandered up the stairs, that he was still smiling, and I smiled in return. We reached my floor too quickly, our wonderful day together coming to an end, and even though I hadn’t actually said I’d spend the next day with him, I couldn’t help but think that as soon as I awoke, I would call him and make some kind of plan with him. “Thank you, for today.” I spoke quietly as we walked down the corridor. “Ren, can you just… stop… for a minute? Please?” Suddenly his tone had dropped, and his smile was gone. The seriousness in his voice made my stomach churn, but I did as he asked. I stopped, standing still and turning to face him, seeing the way he closed the gap between us, his eyes down to his feet, moving his body closer to mine. I took a few steps back, shuddering under the intense atmosphere, almost collapsing as he lifted his head and focused his eyes against mine. “What’s wrong?” I whispered. “I need to know how you feel.” “Wh-what?” “Ren, if you feel anything for me, please let me know.” “Har-” “Because if you feel something for me, then I want to do this differently.” I distanced even more, my back crashing against the wall behind me, but Harry pushed ever closer, the front of his body almost greeting mine as I looked up into his olive eyes, his face sombre. “Do what differently?” “If you feel something for me, then I want to do this properly. I want to… take you out on a date. I want to… know that I can hold your hand when we walk down the street together. Fuck, I want to hold your hand all the time.” “You do?” I trembled. “If this is just a friendship, that’s fine… But, it feels like it’s not. It really fucking feels like there’s something here, and if there is then I want to do this properly. I need to know how you feel. Please tell me how you feel.” My breathing was coming out in harsh pants, desperate to run again, but I think that’s why he cornered me. He knew me well enough that if I could just walk away from it, I would. So he didn’t let me. He raised his hand, cupping my cheek with his large hand, running his thumb under my eye and waiting for me to say something to him, to open up and tell him how I felt. “I-I’m confused.” I nudged my cheek further into his touch. “I feel like the only reason you’re confused about this, is because you’re still convinced that I don’t want you. Well, I’m here, now, and I’m telling you I do. I do want you.” I told him that I would do this, that I would accept this new stage of our friendship, but I think one of the reasons I was still in confused, and hesitant, was because I had convinced myself that Harry wouldn’t feel anything towards me. As much as I was trying to grow, it still didn’t seem right to me that a boy like Harry could want a girl like me. I hadn’t let myself truly see that as an option. Not until that very moment. He was there, edging closer and closer to me, so close I could feel his breath against my lips. He was rubbing soothing circles over the skin on my face, and he was telling me he wanted me. He didn’t want a fake relationship with me, he didn’t just want the girl who comforted him in the middle of the night when he was scared. He wanted me. “Can… Can we go inside, please?” I quaked. “Can we go inside and talk about this? Just… sit down and talk about everything?” “Fuck, Ren… I don’t want you to think I’m trying to rush you. I’m not trying to rush you, fuck. I just want… fuck.” “You’re not rushing me.” I moved my hand, lacing my fingers through the hair on the back of his head. “It’s fine. Let’s… Let’s just go and talk.” He nodded, biting his bottom lip before he finally pulled away from me, distancing our lips once more, and I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it. I smashed my head back against the wall, trying to find the stamina to move and follow him as he made his way towards the door to my flat, running his hand through his hair. I stayed in my spot and watched him, clearly trying to soothe his racing mind, rolling his shoulders before he reached out for my door handle. “Ren, you didn’t fucking lock it again.” He managed to chuckle. That made me laugh too, finally feeling normal enough to distance from the wall and walk the small distance down towards him. “Woops.” I giggled. “You’re such-” I watched his face drop as soon as he pushed the door fully open, standing on the outside and looking into my flat with dead eyes. I stopped myself still, just seeing his reaction. “What’s wrong?” I gasped. “Ren… I… Fuck.” I quickly ran to his side, panicked as I approached him and turned, looking into my flat in the same way he was. It wasn’t hard to miss what had made him react that way. It was easier to see how trashed the place was at first, how things were strewn all over the hall, my TV shattered on the floor beside my door. I took a step inside, slowly turning to look into my living room. That’s when it became clear that most of my possessions, the ones that were easy enough to carry, were missing. That’s when it became clear that my complete ineptness had resulted in my flat being burgled.
