Strawberries [AU]

She spent her days lazing in the summer sunlight, eating strawberries whilst being enveloped in a world of prose. He spent his own locked away in his flat, reading Bukowski whilst the world passed him by. When he first saw her, first talked to her, first heard her, he wondered how such a girl could be real. How a girl, who tasted like strawberries and recited lines of poetry that wrapped around his heart and sung for days could ever look at a boy like him. And he couldn't help but wonder, "could the strawberry tasting girl ever love the brooding hazel eyed boy?"

96Likes
128Comments
28145Views
AA

7. S I X

S I X

 

Harry walks back to his flat, one reluctant foot after an other. He was not quite sure what had just happened, but it was unnerving that it all had happened in the span of a day. This girl, this strawberry girl had walked into his life and suddenly it felt like...no. He didn't want it to change. He didn't want to become someone because of a girl. He wanted to be himself, to rely on himself, to be his own person, as he had managed to do for the twenty years he has been alive. It was incredibly unnerving to think that he had been shaken by the thought of her, by the sight of her, when he had just met her. He had never felt anything like it before.

And as he continues walking, he finds himself turning left instead of right and walking in the direction of the only person he believed would not hold it against him for pondering his life aloud to them. He couldn't talk to Niall, not yet. He would simply tell him to fuck her and get it over with. And as it was he was not completely sure what had just happened. Especially as he was dropping her off. Why would he think of her at all even? It was as if he knew that allowing himself to fall for her would cause a shift in the universe.

As he came upon his intended street, he opened the large rusted iron gate, and stumbled upon his cat. The black and white pet, Dusty, purred as it passed Harry. It no longer bothered to stop, knowing that his human had a terrible habit of up and leaving without so much as a pat goodbye. Even Dusty knew that Harry had problems with intimacy.

"Hello mum." Harry says through the closed screen door.

Seeing as it was a humid summer night, Harry's mother, Anne, left the back door open with the screen door in tact. She comes to the door, smiling knowingly as she sees her son, "What is it now Harold?"

"Nothing."

She rolls her eyes, opening the door and wrapping her arms around him. He stood a head and a half taller than his mother, but that didn't stop him from feeling like a child whenever he was with her.

"You didn't just happen to come for a stroll did you?" She pulls back from the embrace and looks at him up and down. He simply smiles, looking at his still young mother in her sunflower print sundress. She didn't look a day past thirty and he somehow wished she would always stay forever frozen in her youthful glow. 

"Niall called you didn't he?"

She nods, "He was worried you hadn't come home yet."

Harry scoffs, "He was not."

"Yes he was, dear." She stands back and opens the door to let him into her home. It was only a quarter past eight, he knew his stepfather Robin would be watching his show in the living room and his older sister Gemma would be upstairs attempting to finish some work. 

"Is Gems home?"

"You know she is." She nods towards the stairs knowingly, "You don't even come here for me anymore. If she hadn't moved back you would never come round."

"That's not true mum." He wraps an arm around her and kisses her cheek.

"I'll be with Robin then, go on up." His mother grabs a glass off the table and walks back into the living room, leaving Harry to go see his sister.

He makes his way up the staircase they once played on, ridiculous games he and Gemma would come up with. He remembers her convincing him that he could slide down the shiny banister and he ended up having to get four stitches on his forehead. That was one of their more safe ideas to say the least. 

Harry walks past his room, still a bit amazed that his mother had kept it as is for the past three years. She had a rough time letting him go, even now she still holds up hope that he will come back just as Gemma did, even if it was only for a short while. He stares intently at the remnants of his immortal feeling teenage years and sighs, walking past his room straight down the hallway.

He knocks on the door of his sister's room, not allowing her to answer before opening the wooden door. 

"What is it now?" She says in a flat tone, knowing already that he had only come to blabber away about his newest problems. Although she loved her younger brother, she knew that late night visits from him simply meant that she would not be partaking in any sort of sleep til the wee hours of the morning. And by the look on his face, she knew that she would have to go set the kettle soon.

"I don't know."

"What don't you know."

"I met a girl today."

"Ah."

"No, don't dismiss me. It's not one of those 'I met a girl and I think she's the one' kind of deals."

"Uhuh."

"Gems, I'm serious."

"Then what's the issue?" She looks at him head on and he goes to sit on her bed. She was wearing her hair up and was in shorts and one of his old t shirts. It felt like secondary school all over again.

"I don't know. I don't know what the issue is."

"Is it that there isn't one?"

"No. It's that..."

"That?"

"I don't know." Harry says, clearly frustrated with himself.

"Harry." Gemma sighs, she gets up from her seat and goes to sit with him on the bed. She sits cross legged and rests her arms upon her thighs. "Let's start with the basics. What is this girl's name?"

"Mia."

"Where did you meet her?"

"Bakery...then at home..."

"You brought her home?"

"No, she's a friend of Niall's."

"Oh." She looks at him with a furrowed brow. She did not approve of Niall in any shape, way, or form. But that was mostly because Niall had yet to comprehend that his aggressive flirting with Harry's sister only managed to disgust her. She also thought him too frivolous, too much of a player.

"No, not a friend. A friend. She is actually his friend."

"Well, that's a coincidence."

"Yeah."

"So what's the problem?"

"I like her."

"Okay?"

"I just...I think I'm getting way too deep way too soon. I just learned her name...but..."

"Ah. Poet's getting carried away?"

"Yes."

"Not necessarily a bad thing."

"How do you figure?" Harry asks.

"It's been a while since you've dated..."

"Yeah..."

"So, why not have some fun?"

"It feels like it would..."

"It would?"

"It feels like it's not just having some fun. It feels intense and I don't know why."

"You're an intense guy."

"Yeah?"

She nods with a smile, "Just don't get too carried away. You'll scare the poor girl."

"I don't think she's the type to get frightened easily."

"No?"

He shakes his head.

"Good then. She'll make for quite the interesting story."

"You figure?"

"You and a girl? A girl who isn't put off by your weirdness? Yes. That would make an incredible story."

"Shut up." He says throwing a pillow at his sister.

She laughs loudly, "Hey, I've been meaning to ask."

"Yeah?"

"You have any good books you can recommend? I've been meaning to finally do some reading."

Harry simply looks at her with a smirk, "What genre?"

 


 



 

 

 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...