Magnolia in May [H.S]

Part sixty-two

the shirt ^^

<3

Magnolia

-- -

All I could think was why? Why did he do this to me? What did I do? No part of my body wanted to comprehend what happened, just that it did. I couldn't look past the fact it happened.

A person I trusted only a handful of years ago, and this was the second time? It had me calculating rocket science, shaking in my skin at the thought the hate was so festering it went to that extent. Slip something into my drink, watch me fade like milk on a hot day. Harry was there, Indie was there, Niall and Rory were, Louis was there.

The first-coming emotion was rage, then it trickled into blatant shock, the five stages of grief flashed over me all at once. When it left, residing with a more intense injection of denial. It wasn't real, I didn't get drugged.

It was real. Florian, the person I called a friend not more than six years ago purposefully slipped something in my drink.

I felt fucking stupid for letting him anywhere near me, after the thought, it was him that did it last time. I felt disgusted, of him, of Saffron, of myself. I had no proof, there was nothing I could do. I was helpless.

I was in denial.

Pretending all of this was okay with me. When in reality, I was chipping like old paint during a hail storm. My heart wrenched - mind on overdrive with questions. I was playing the act perfectly, so much so Harry thought nothing of it. I'm sure he thought I was okay, that I was used to being deceived by Florian. Which in hindsight was true, that didn't mean I wasn't terrified.

If he did something like that what else is he willing to do?

I didn't want to think of the possibilities, or what was going through his mind. I just hoped being here with Harry would help take my thought-process off of it.

-- -

"Baby?" The rasp sounding in my ears shifts my attention, I flick my head to the driver's seat. Seeing it bare, I look at my side. The door opened and chilly air wafted onto my skin. Meeting the eyes of a curly-haired leather-wearing sweetheart. He looks in apprehension, seeing I'd been zoned out, staring at the scarce raindrops on the windshield.

"Huh?" My mind runs before any other, huffing out a strangled-sounding noise from the back of my throat. My voice cracks, a bubble in the honey.

"You wanna pop in for a moment, pick something out?" He nods his head, gesturing to the convenience store we were parked next to. Next to the petrol signs and 'hot coffee signs read, 'Souvenirs', as well as 'Jewelry'. I agree accordingly, keeping my eyes on the lit-up shop while Harry helps me down from the van. Using his hand to direct me.

He flicks a strand of my hair from behind, smiling to himself as I look back in slight apprehension. His gaze focused on the altering shades of my hair, which now had a mixture of blonde, my natural brown, and at the very bottom pink. It was more of faded, light pink. Though it was freshly dyed, it looked washed and old. I kind of liked that fact about it, more rugged, not as pristine or perfect.

"The pink suits you, pumpkin," He affirms, holding the door open for me, the bell ding echoing into my ears. I track his smile with my eyes, perking my cheeks in reaction.

"Mhm, you don't think it looks tacky." I joke, playing my deck of self-deprecation. He shrugs his shoulders rather dramatically, gesturing to swat his hand out. As to say enthusiastically 'no way!'.