Poppy/H.S

Chapter 25

Harry's pov

I chew quietly on the delicious salmon sandwich, even though I despise the fish. Usually, I find the taste of salmon very fishy, and that I've had quite a few of them, various fancy versions prepared by different chefs. Never in my life have I ever liked the taste of it, but this time is special. There's something different about the salmon, or the way it was prepared. Suddenly, I don't mind the fishy taste at all, the other components of the meal in sync. The avocado compliments the salmon rather well, seasoned properly with a few drops of lemon juice, and some black pepper.

The wheels in my head haven't stopped running ever since I saw Valentine for the first time today, noticing the difference in the way she's dressed. Her usual business attire lined up with a pair of heels was replaced with a comfortable pair of Converse shoes, complimenting her vintage blue jeans and a comfortable tee.

She looks pretty. She always looks pretty.

I've always considered Valentine an attractive young woman, her business attire making her look independent and almost unapproachable to an ordinary man like me. Her outstanding character makes me feel ordinary around her. Whenever I see her, my world tries to revolve around her. All of the awards I've won seem to be pointless, making me look like a nobody. She doesn't care about my fame. She sees me as an ordinary man, who happens to be her friend, and I'm proud to call myself that.

I've never had a friend like her. There's something special about her, something I can't really distinguish. The Slovak girl has not only become my good friend, but also Poppy's, and with the realisation, I feel like the weight I've been carrying on my shoulders has doubled. I can't risk Poppy getting hurt in case the friendship doesn't work out. I need to treasure Valentine as a friend, releasing I'm in deep shit. I can't mess this up. Poppy relies on her way too much. The poor girl has been struggling with finding new friends ever since she started kindergarten.

I've been wanting to find a good therapist for Poppy, but I've been struggling with the ways I could tell my daughter about the possible appointment, not wanting to scare her off. When I saw Poppy interact with Valentine for the first time, in that diner, I knew there wasn't anything wrong with my little flower. She is capable of finding friends. The kids at her kindergarten are probably just weird.

To my surprise, Valentine looks even more beautiful in a simple warn-out pair of jeans and a comfortable white tee. She looks so domestic and cute. A mint sweatshirt is wrapped around her hips, signalling she's ready to put it on, covering her v-line cleavage, when it gets colder. She doesn't need me to offer her my own hoodie, even though I threw an extra one into my trunk earlier. She has her own. She doesn't need a man to keep her warm. I should've known.

She's not the kind of woman who wears light clothes on a date when it's cold outside, counting with the fact that the guy would give her his warm jacket when the night turns colder. Valentine doesn't rely on anything. The damn woman brings her own jacket, not giving the poor guy a chance to prove how much of a gentleman he his to her, willing to shiver in the cold for her.

This is what I've been thinking about for the last few weeks in a nutshell. Her. Imagining how she would behave in different situations, what she would wear and say. My mind was preoccupied with the thoughts of a beautiful woman, and I there wasn't anything I could do about it to stop it. To be frank, I didn't want even try to stop it, the single thought of her making my lips tremble. Thinking of her makes my lonely days better. Somehow, with her on my mind, everything seems easier than before. I have the motivation to work, counting down the days, hours and minutes until I get to see her again.

I'm confused. I've been feeling confused for a few days now, to be frank. I don't know what's changed about the way I see Valentine. Of course, anyone would find the woman attractive. She's beautiful. But am I really attracted to her or am I just attracted to the feeling of being wanted and loved again?