Broken || h.s. AU (old version)

Chapter 11- Flowers

Chapter 11- Flowers

I walk into the cafeteria, sitting down on a bench in the opposite corner from the table Harry and I shared. The cafeteria chatter seems to be louder now that I'm not focusing on dissecting Harry's every action. Now that I'm not reveling in his beautiful, dimpled smile that was so far and in-between.

But I should've known better than to allow myself to get lost in his emerald eyes. Because no matter how beautiful, an emerald was the still the same thing: a cold rock.

I look down to my hands, tracing my fingers along the swirls in the wood. I soon grow bored with this, looking around the lunch room instead.

I feel my heart skip a beat as I notice the familiar curly haired boy sitting at our table. He's staring intensely at me. When he sees he's caught my gaze, a small, shy smile spread across his pink lips, revealing white teeth.

His eyes sparkle hopefully, the dimples appearing in his cheeks. His hand raises in a friendly wave, his eyes silently asking for me to join him.

But I quickly look back down, my arm throbbing in an effort to remind myself of the last events. I quickly busy myself with the task of scraping at a small, stiff spot on my sweater where glue lingered from my last class.

I hear the old bench of the table creak across from me and I resist the urge to look up. "Diana...?" A musical voice inquires.

I don't reply, not stopping as my hair falls to hide my face. "Diana... I'm sorry I hurt you..." I hear him murmur sincerely. Again, I remain silent.

I can only see half of his chest and down from the corner of my vision. His hands are folded together on top of the table and he leans heavily on his elbows, so he's closer to me. His hand moves quickly towards my face and I flinch, jumping backwards as my eyes flick to Harrys face.

His eyes are alarmed at my sudden movement and after a moment he blinks, lowering his hands to the table. His long fingers slowly raise off the table, trying not to startle me as he gently brushes a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

My stomach turns into a cage of butterflies, fluttering in multiple different directions as they struggle to lift me into the sky.

I shy away from his touch, but his confused eyes follow me. Again his large hand raises slowly, letting his fingertips brush my arm so lightly, it sends a delicate chill down my back.

"Please, forgive me.." He pleads quietly. He doesn't bother to slow himself as his hand grips both of mine in his with ease. For a brief moment, I'm torn out of my anxiety by the wonderful feeling of his warm, rough hand enveloping mine.

His eyes linger on mine and the way he watches me so intently, it makes me feel as if he thinks I'm the most precious jewel on earth. His hand is so gentle and protective, trying his best not to frighten me.

"Harry.." I choke, forcing myself to break eye contact.

The bond seems to have broken, and I can think clearly again. How it feels for him to hold my hands fogs my mind still, but I push that aside as I regain my thoughts.

"Diana.. I am so very sorry..." He murmurs again, and I can feel his warm breath dust across my forehead.

A shudder runs down my spine but neither of us acknowledge it. I shake my head slightly and half-reluctantly pull my hands from his. He looks up at me with a childish hurt, and then I walk away.

∘∞∘ ∘∞∘ ∘∞∘ ∘∞∘

I walk towards my locker at the end of the day and I can't help but notice as I stop in front of it, a sweet smell drifts through the halls. But it seems the closer I lean to my locker, the stronger it gets.