Reticent (h.s fanfic, punk Harry)

Chapter 28

Summer seemed hesitant to leave Long Island. The air rushing in from Harry's opened window bloomed my senses with a fresh scent of clean cut grass, mingled with the exuberant ambience of rain and falling leaves. I mimicked Harry's action, and opened my own window to welcome the late night breeze. My hands retreated from the purring feline on my lap, to my blond hair; I bunched the thick width, persuading it to stay while I searched for a hair tie on my wrists, but found them naked of any type of band, deeming it impossible to tame my mane from the flurry coming inside.

"Mind closing the window?" Harry asked from his side, a hand resting on the steering wheel, while another poked its wrist out the window, cigarette clasped between his fingers. "Rain's coming in," he spoke in a cavalier voice, making me wonder if he really cared about the rain, or if his statement had an ambiguous meaning.

I muttered a quiet 'sorry' anyway and closed the window. A plethora of subpar houses came into view. "Harry?" Where in the world was he taking me? He answered with a hum, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. "Wh-where are you taking me?" My head snapped to his direction, taking in the disintegrated scenery through window. I wasn't even sure if we were in Long Island.

His attention swerved to the nadir surroundings. His car came to a stop. "We're at my place." He pointed to the small grey house on my right.

My eyes scanned the small one story building. This was where Harry lived? Granted, I wasn't expecting a mansion, but I wasn't expecting this either.
"Harry, you're-"

"Poor?" He moved the handle to park. "Yes, I am." He reached over calmly to scoop up the sleeping cat. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

"I didn't mean it like that..." he was already leaving, probably blocking out my voice.

Like he had advised, I stayed in the car, watching him hold up his coat to cover his head, while he carried the orange animal inside the house. I settled into my seat, simply allowing my eyes to travel over the house, caressing it with attention. The windows were half covered with plastic, the paint chipped, the roof missing a few shingles. This was never what I expected; I knew Harry didn't have the best life-as Zayn had told me, his mother had cancer, as Connie had filled me in, he didn't grow up with the advantages we had. What was it with Harry? Was this why he was so bitter? Was it because he didn't have what we did...I shook the thought away, loathing it as it captured my mind. That's preposterous! Harry looked nothing close to prejudice-of course lacking the part about George.
I looked down at the front lawn. Good god! The place was filled with flowers. This was ridiculous and very eye catching. The miscellaneous flowers baffled me, there were petunias, daffodils, cyclamens, sunflowers-almost every flower I could name. A bakery did not suit his passion, it seemed. Without another thought, I opened the car door. The various scents attacking me were inebriating! The fragrance wafted sharply towards me, blocking off any other sense in my essence. "Beautiful," I muttered to myself. Harry must have been a grand flower lover.
I walked up the cracked walkway to the door to wait for Harry. I'm sure he won't mind me waiting here, I wasn't intruding. My bum met with the cold wet cement as soon as I sat. "Not my best idea," I chuckled, looking around at the flowers and simply listening to the rain. This was beautiful, relaxing, and just exuberant.
"Beautiful view, huh?" A feminine voice said behind me. A voice I was all too familiar with. He took a seat beside me, his cigarette in between his lips, ready for a lighter. "So, Harry brought you here. Kinda unlike him to be honest."

"Yeah," I watched him light the stick then take a long inhale. His clothes had changed from earlier today, a black sweater with white ripped pants. I wondered if he bought them that way or ripped it himself. "He told me to wait in the car...but I thought I'd sit out here," I explained. "It was getting stuffy in there."
Louis nodded, bringing his fingers to grasp the cig. "Yeah, I get it." He took a deep breath. "Ophelia," his voice softened. "I really don't mean to be rude."
"Technically when someone says they're not being rude-"