Burgundy || HS

épilogue

Although trapped with the knowledge that she couldn't escape the hold that came with having a burgundy heart with a burgundy story that consisted of burgundy love, Jane Bradley did learn to move on.

Close to campus lived Jane while she continued her studies and chose a major of creative writing. (Because after having a book written about you, you find it easy to write about other things, as well).

Writing no longer made her think of Harry, though the bracelet she kept in the bottom of her purse (next to the thirteen day old gum with the purse-like leather taste and a few black marks that she would dismiss) to remind her of the good times and not the bad, did.

This odd day occurred when Jane didn't walk into a library in the deep depths of England, she found herself in a bookstore. It was simply odd because Jane felt that she never had enough love in the world to love a book forever and would rather borrow one instead.

But she fell in love with a writer. So, eventually, she too bled words.

That chilly day in the middle of God-knows-what-month in a year she had yet to remember because her calendar had just been flipped over and she was still stuck in the past, her picked at fingernails grazed over the bookshelves until she stopped where the B's began.

Burgundy by Harry Styles.

Jane licked her lips and opened the front cover to the dedication, choosing between smiling or crying. She didn't know where Harry Styles physically was, she just knew the casting was done for his first novel and he was unhappy. But it was okay to be unhappy because life wasn't meant to bring happiness.

She had yet to come to terms with the fact that no matter where she went, she was still Jane Bradley and she was still burgundy. She was stuck being burgundy. But even if she didn't know where he physically was, she knew he was always going to be spiritually around her. Even countries overseas loved his writing. Or, perhaps, they bought it to criticize it, as Jane had before.

It'd been months since they'd seen each other and although it hurt, Jane was proud of her ex-lover. She took the book with her and went up to the cash register to see an older man. His name was Paul and he looked genuinely happy.

Paul's wife had left him ten some-odd years ago, his response being to Jane's apology, "It's fine, her legs have been open since the second World War." That was the day Jane also learned that Paul liked his women... ripe.

"Do you have any job openings?" Months passed and the season changed repetitively. Jane liked England's spring weather. She could wear whatever she wanted whenever she wanted without any problem. She'd loosened up on what she wore to work and no longer insisted on skirts and dress shirts.

Harry made her feel the beautiful she deserved. And although it was too late, she knew he did the best he could, though he was still a selfish bastard. Although he lied, he loved. And nothing would change that.

Jeans and a crop top that barely skimmed her belly button was good enough one spring evening. Paul didn't care, nor did her co-worker, though he always complained. "Jane, you need to put clothes on, Jesus fucking Christ," Tyler flipped through a magazine while leaning against a stool.

"I have clothes on, T."

"God, I wish I knew you before your nakedness. I wanna know what it was like to deal with long-skirted Jane."

"Shut up. If you want to know, go read the book. It's in the same fucking place it's always in." She sighed and went back to reading the damn book. Burgundy sat in her car for so long that she wondered if it was even worth buying.

But, eventually, she began to read the book.

She read of Harry's love for her through words and false judgement. Reading the book made her miss him all over again. A bell at the front of the bookstore went off and she could hear Tyler lightly stop breathing, as if it was caught in his throat. "Jane," he whispered. It was too late.

A tall, slightly more muscular, and a lot richer man was already in front of the two while Jane bit on her thumb nail, still giving all her attention to the book. His left hand, still her favorite, took the book from her along with a pen from the small desk. He still wore the same cologne and had the same face structure.

He was still him.

Still beautiful.

After writing in the book, he placed thirty pounds on the desk, the cost of nearly three book, even though he was buying one. With which, by the way, he bought Burgundy. "What did he write?" Ty asked, but Jane only stared at the same handwriting that she'd missed.

those tickets never have to go to waste, burgundy

- gatsby
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if you haven't realized, you have suddenly become harry. for a flashback, jane told harry to observe her to see if he could figure out who she is and what she likes. you, as a reader, are also meant to. have you learned who jane is? what do you think jane would do in this situation? have you been observing or reading?

if you think you know jane, do you think she would reject harry or eventually rekindle their dying flame? does she still love the man that did the unforgivable, or is it possibly forgivable? tell me what the jane you know would do. i made this an open ending on purpose. you can choose jane's fate with what you've learned from her character.

thank you so much for the love and support you all have given this story. (I'll probably be editing it soon bc I honestly don't like how it's written). I love you so much and whether my writing journey ends soon or not at all, I will always love you. thank you.