Speak |h.s. a.u.|

Chapter 59

It was Tuesday, and Harry was on edge. His nerves were on edge, his emotions were on edge, his mind was on edge. He paced back and forth in his apartment, Fleetwood Mac playing loudly through the record player he had in the corner. He couldn't stand it anymore, he had to see Annabelle's face. The few pictures on his phone weren't doing justice after almost two weeks. It wasn't a good week for him, and all he needed was to see her face so he could calm down for a few seconds.

He grabbed his keys and marched down the stairs to his car, starting the engine and driving downtown to find this flower shop she worked at. It took him almost an hour to find it, but when he did, he parked the car and wasted no time in walking through the small green door. A tiny bell sounded as the door opened and closed. A lady with short black hair stood behind the counter, different types of flowers in her hands as she cut the stems and put them in a glass vase.

"Good afternoon, sir. May I help you?" The older woman asked, smiling at the young and handsome boy standing in her shoppe.

"Is Annabelle working today?" Harry tried to keep his voice quiet in case she were in the building.

"Mhmm, she's probably back in the bouquet section. Are you related to her? Oh, she's very talented at making bouquets," the woman sighed, looking up at Harry.

"I'm um, her friend, I guess." Harry mumbled the last part. He didn't know what they were.

"That's nice." The lady hummed, continuing to cut the stems of flowers.

"Thank you." Harry said and started walking through the small shoppe. The walls were covered in shelves that held many different kinds of flowers. The room smelled like a fresh garden, the lighting mostly coming from the sunroof.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the back of Annabelle's head. Her thick hair looked slightly messy, as if she'd been messing with it all day. She wore a light purple t-shirt and black jeans, a few bracelets covering her left wrist, and a few silver rings on her fingers. He hid slightly behind a shelf, watching her delicate hands pick up flowers and examine them, before placing them down and tying them together with a small ribbon. He wanted to make his presence known, but he also wanted to stay hidden and watch her work for hours, the way she sniffed each flower and closely looked at the details of it before adding it to the pile on the side of the wooden table. He watched her for a few more moments before deciding to step up behind her.

"That's very pretty." Harry kept his voice quiet, but it still startled Annabelle, making her slightly jump and quickly look behind her. When his eyes met hers, he felt his knees buckle and his anger vanish. "You're good at that," he pointed to the bouquet she had just finished and cleared his throat.

Annabelle had no idea what to do or think when she heard his deep, accented voice and saw his chiseled face. Her eyes darted away from his and to the flowers in her hands, quickly laying them down and picking up a different one. She returned to working, trying to stay as calm as possible. She quickly finished the next bouquet, making it match the first one. These were for a wedding taking place tomorrow morning, and she had to get them done before three p.m. today. The bouquets were made of white tulips, pink daisies, and syringas.

Harry cleared his throat again after moving to stand in front of the table she were working at. She noticed how his arms were stretched out, his palms holding him up on the table as he was slightly leaned over. His tattoos were plain as day on his smooth skin.

"Did you read my letter?" Harry asked nervously, one of his hands coming up to play with his bottom lip. She paid him no attention, continuing to work on the bouquets she needed to finish. She turned around and began walking through the isles, looking for more daisies. Harry followed her, trying to stay a few feet behind her to give her some space. When she found what she were looking for, she picked up a handful of the flowers and sniffed them. Her fingers gently trailed over the edges of the stems, making sure all of these flowers were alive and healthy. She returned to her desk, continuing to work.

"Did you read the letter?" Harry asked again after more silent moments of watching her work. He tried to sound gentle, knowing he were treading in dangerous waters. She still hadn't given him an answer, or even looked at him again, for that matter. Why would she answer him after all he said to her? He was so mean, she wanted nothing to do with him ever again.

"Please don't ignore me, Annabelle." Harry pleaded, reaching his hand out to touch hers, but she flinched away. The frown on his face was more than evident as he stared at her emotionless face. "Please," Harry's fingers touched her chin and tilted her head up. Their eyes locked and she felt the familiar urge to hug him. She quickly pulled away, knowing she shouldn't let herself have those feelings anymore. Harry sighed and tucked his hands in his front pockets, caging them so they couldn't make her uncomfortable anymore.

"I'll see you around, I guess." Harry mumbled, realizing his chances of ever mending her heart were very slim. He walked away sad and even more broken hearted than before, pushing the door open as the woman behind the counter told him to have a good day. Yeah right, he thought.