Belle felt so stupid. She didn't ask for his name, or his phone number. But when has she ever asked for a customers' number? Never! But he felt like more to her than a normal customer, he was absolutely beautiful. The way his sunglasses held his long curls away from his face, his hair framing his jawline and falling down past his shoulders. He looked like a god and she hated how she couldn't stop thinking about him after just meeting him.
And Harry felt the same about her. He could not stop thinking about her, even when he got home. The full basket of strawberries wasn't helping his situation either. He wondered what to do with them, if he should eat them as quickly as possible to try and forget about her, but then he would have to go back and get more, to see her again. Harry placed the strawberries on the counter in his kitchen, his cat, Tim, coming and curling around his leg as he sat there and ate a few strawberries. God, he thought, they were juicy and they were already dripping down his fingers. And the sight alone made him think of her.
After Belle's shift had finished at 3, long before the sun was going to start setting, she headed back to her apartment on her bicycle. Her apartment was close to the field but still allowed her to enjoy the beautiful summer days on the bike over. She had managed to grab a basket of strawberries when no one was looking and placed it as best as she could in her front basket on her bike. Some strawberries would fall out here and there and she would laughed to herself because it seemed like she was leaving a trail for some squirrels or bunnies.
She decided to drop her strawberries off at her place before bolting out the door and hopping on her bike again, heading to her favorite café near the downtown area. She liked where her apartment was situated. It wasn't near any of the main streets that you see all over those postcards or in movies, it was away from all that. In a place filled with amazing attractions targeted more towards the locals, you could say. Café's and flower shops, movie rental stores, thrift shops and a library that she worked in during the fall, winter and spring. She absolutely loved it here. Her apartment even had the slightest of view of the Eiffel Tower, which she gazed at some nights from her balcony.
The café that Belle went to nearly everyday was busier than she would have liked. It was closer to all the main attractions so it got a lot of attention from tourists that liked to look beyond just the main streets. She hates coffee; despises it actually. She's more of a tea person but today she felt like something sweet and filled with chocolate, and she orders just that. When her name is called, she grabs her drink and sits near the window, enjoying watching people pass by in their cars, bikes or just walking. She loves the city life and the people of the city. Her drink is cold which feels nice against the warm summer air.
Harry's tapping his foot against the floor, his pen scribbling words down into his journal as fast as they'll flow out of his head and onto the paper. Tim is sitting on the window frame, enjoying the cool breeze coming in from the open window. He's not quite sure what he's writing; it could be a poem, a song or maybe even a story. Sometimes he'll start writing something one way, and then half way through realize it doesn't work anymore and change the whole thing.
The night was settling in now, the sun was setting behind some hills and he thought about getting up and turning on a light, but fought the urge because he desperately needed to get these words down before the thought was lost. Tim meows and it catches Harry's attention. He smiles and reaches out to pet the orange cat who's only a year old now. As Tim's purring, Harry notices some movement out of the corner or his eye from the apartment building straight across from his. It's from a few windows lower than his and his eyes look downwards at the movement, wondering why this caught his eye. He always sees people moving around in the apartment across from his, never bothered him then. The figure moves around, shifting the light coming out of the room and he watches as a girl emerges onto her balcony.
It was her.
The girl from the strawberry field.
She lived across from him and he wonders how he never noticed her before? Because he was never looking for her before, he thought. He watches her move through her apartment, sometimes being cut off by her curtains surrounding her balcony door, then she reappears, a drink in her hand. He wonders about where she had gone out, who she had gone out with, friends, a boyfriend, by herself? He couldn't see her eyes from here and he desperately tried to remember what color they were, it frustrated him. She leans against the frame, the wind blowing her hair slightly and she smiles, closing her eyes. She's so beautiful, Harry thought to himself. He wondered what her name was...
He continued to subconsciously write in his journal while he watched her, like his mind was in total control of his hand and before he knew it, the words on his paper were all about her.
Belle watched the sunset from her balcony before closing the door and moving in for the night. She made herself a quick TV dinner, heating it up before sitting herself down on a sofa and reading a book while she ate. Her legs hung off the side of the chair, her hair dangling off the other side as well. It was a rather uncomfortable position but the book was just so good that she couldn't move. She did move, however, once her supper was done and she realized her fingers were still stained red, like always. Belle got up and drew herself a bath, putting in some bubbles and letting the water run slightly warm. She got in and stared at the hill holding a vast and empty field on top of it, looking up at the starry sky from where she sat. It was hard to see many stars due to all the light pollution but she could still make out a few constellations. Her fingers were slowly starting to turn back to their normal color with some slight scrubbing, the usual routine for her after her long weekly shifts at the field.
Harry fed his cat before turning in for the night, looking at the Eiffel Tower from his bedroom windows. He was disappointed that his balcony was opposite to hers, that he couldn't stand out in the morning and watch her get ready. He cringed at the thought, he was turning into a creep.
Harry tossed and turned, he couldn't sleep, and the only thing on his mind was the girl with the big eyes whose name he did not know. Her lips, her hair, her smile, her laugh. He wondered if her fingers were still stained red and if they were always red like that. He was so frustrated that he couldn't get her out of his head, she was a siren. He thought about walking over to her apartment building and saying hi, but there were a few problems with that. He didn't know her apartment number, wouldn't know what to say, and it was ultra creepy. She probably doesn't even remember him.
Belle sat in her bathtub, thinking about the boywith the long hair and green eyes from the field today. She wondered about him,wondered what his name was and why he had moved to Paris. She thought aboutasking, but decided not to because he was a stranger to her, she wouldn't wanta stranger asking her questions like that. She wondered if she would ever seehim again, she thought about what he was doing right now. She thought about ifhe was enjoying the strawberries he bought. All these thoughts were making herfeel insane, she didn't even know his name and she couldn't stop thinking abouthim. He probably doesn't even remember her.
this chapter was a bit short but they will probably get longer.... how did you guys like this chapter??
I'm working on a new cover for Strawberry Fields because I'm kind of tired of this one, anyways I hope you enjoyed as always :^)
(p.s. if you haven't seen the movie 'Her' I highly recommend it, not because it has anything to do with my story but just because I love it so much xx)
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Strawberry Fields {h.s}
FanfictionIt was the summer of 1989 in Paris, France when Bellerose and Harry first met. In which a girl who works at a strawberry field in the summer and a library in the off seasons, and a boy who writes songs, poems, short stories and paints all year round...