Beneath Your Beautiful

Chapter 7

"Harry.... I have to go." I said, dragging him out of the studio. "What's wrong." It didn't sound like a question. "My sister... She's.." I couldn't finish my sentence. I cried into Harry's chest. "Flore. What." He said again, holding me to him. "She had a miscarriage." I replied, as he let go of my so i could wipe my eyes. He didn't say anything, just pulled me back to him. "You need to go." Harry whispered. I pulled away, to look at him. He looked sad, but him emerald eyes still glowed. "What about you?" I asked quietly. "Your family needs you now." He said, taking my hand. "I'll be fine." He promised. "Harry. What about everyone else. I can't just leave." I argued. "We'll be fine. I promise." He reassured me.

"Bye, Harry." I said, giving him a hug and a kiss. "Bye, Flore. Be carful. I love you." He said. "I love you too." I smiled, getting onto the bus. I was going back home, a place full of memories, some not all that pleasant.

I put my headphones in, and jammed to some Ed Sheeran, and such. I know this sounds cray, but I miss Harry, and the boys.

*4 Hours Later*

"MUM!" I smiled. I ran to the little blonde lady. I look just like her, same eyes, same blonde hair. "Florence!" She smiled, pulling me into a hug. "How's Carrie?" I asked, pulling away. "She's fine, just a bit upset." She replied, as we got into the car. I nodded.

"Hey sis. Brad." I smiled, walking into the house. "FLORE!!" Amanda yelled, running to me. "Babe!" I smiled. Amanda is my little sister, and Brad is her boyfriend. I don't really like Brad. Brad is from Canada. No. "How's it going, Brad?" I asked, not really caring. "It's going ok." He smiled. Brad is nice, I mean he's Canadian, but he's not the one for Amanda. At all. "She's upstairs." Amanda said, pulling away. I nodded, and darted upstairs. I knocked on the door to her old bedroom. "Go away!" Carrie cried. "Even little old me?!" I asked. She flung the door open. "Flore." She whispered, pulling me into a hug. She's 21, but I've always been the more mature one. "You're fine sis." I said pulling away. I meant it as a question. She nodded. "I'm fine." She mumbled. "Get some rest. I'm sure it was a long ride. We'll talk more tomorrow." Carrie smiled, kissing my cheek. "It's exactly the same as you left it up there." She smiled. My room was in the attic... kind of. It was a floor all to myself. I walked up the narrow, wooden staircase to my room, and unlocked the door with an old skeleton key I kept hidden in the wall. I opened the door, with a sigh of relief, and put the key back. I walked up the 4 stairs, that lead to my actual room.

My room still smelled of lavender, my pastel pink bed, still made. The posters of America, and my friends still on the wall. My dresser still full of clothes, my makeup where I left it. The last time I was here was when I was 17. I walked across the creaky floor to my old bathroom. Everything was how I left it, and I liked that.