the journal - h.s.

46

[amber’s pov]

I had woken sunday morning just feeling peaceful and happy in my normal moment of morning joy - with the duvet feeling warm and fluffy around my body, just as usual. But suddenly the entire last night came flushing in over me and I had to hold my breath, as I was completely overwhelmed with the memory of that kiss in the rain and simply him. About his green caring eyes. Immediately my lips parted into a wide beam and a giggle escaped into the otherwise quiet moment. I held the duvet up before my mouth as I sat up with bubbling excitement inside of me. It felt like I couldn’t possibly contain this bright feeling in my fragile skin alone. It wasn’t just butterflies I felt - it was something more radiating chills and tingles throughout my whole body. Hell it was probably an entire bloody zoo in my stomach.

I looked over at the place near the door and just where I had left it last night - Harry’s sweater was hanging neatly over the radiator - probably completely dry by now. The only item of cloth which was not on the floor actually, that I had actually put effort into making sure would become dry.

I hadn’t stopped smiling. Now I was in the possession of two of his personal belongings; a journal and a sweater. But maybe it was a decent trade since he slowly was starting to possess my very heart and every single thought in return. My thoughts were just clouded with him - not even just clouded, they were filled to the very edge actually. Of how the droplets had been falling from his perfect sharp jawline and had been running down over his warm lips teasingly. How he had pulled off the sweater and his stomach had shown a little. How he had helped me into the jacket. I couldn’t take this any longer. The feelings inside of me were too much to bear, so I ended up sighing heavily and smiling widely while shaking my head repeatedly.

When was I going to see him again? When? When? When? I got some stupid idea that maybe he would be waiting outside in the street or maybe he had just casually been strolling around my neighborhood in the hope of meeting me. Or maybe he would crawl up my fire escape as in the movies… I was already out of the bed and hurrying through the room to the bathroom. Quickly I decided on a trip to the laundromat - then I would have to walk a few blocks and maybe meet him?

But of course I was being silly - though I still just couldn’t get the thought of him out of my mind. When was I going to see him again?

It didn’t take long to get ready this morning, as I constantly kept breaking into new smiles and shake my head lightly. I even put on some mascara just because I was in such a good mood - usually I didn’t use much makeup if any. But today was different. I … I actually felt beautiful. I felt happy - as if I could take on whatever problem right now.

After fastening my hair into a perfect messy bun - in a first try even, usually it took forever to get it right - I remembered it was probably still freezing outside. It did not take me many seconds to come up with a clothing solution, as I almost instinctively grabbed Harry’s shirt from the radiator. It was like it just had been 'meant to be' as I slipped into the already heated comfy woolen sweater of his. The scent of him dulling my every sense - that cologne he wore and the faintest hint of smoke, which I had even grown to love by now.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Smiling. Imagining he would be right there in the very room with me. How his jade green eyes, that were able to contain so many emotions, would take in the view of me in his clothing and his eyes would glitter with that strange joy, as if he liked seeing me in his sweater. Just like he had done at Cloud Gate.

When was I going to see him again?

I couldn’t possibly eat any breakfast, as butterflies and the rest of the goddamn zoo was filling my stomach at the moment. Sending out chills and those damn waves of excitement - but also a little jitteriness, which constantly made me stop up and take a deep breath. Of course the thoughts of maybe never seeing him again were present somewhere deep within - but I tried shutting them out.

Unlike what I had hoped - but already had known would have been unrealistic nevertheless - Harry Styles aka indie band member wasn’t waiting on my doorstep or at the fire escape.

Neither was he in my local corner grocery store where I bought the cheapest bottle of orange juice and a pre-heated bagel. And he was nowhere to be seen as I made my way to the laundromat with my bag filled with dirty clothes and my shoulder bag hanging across my body.

Instead of sticking my nose deep into the scarf I held my head high, looking around the street at the half early Sunday morning life smiling at it. How the stores and cafés were slowly starting to open, how the occasional man or woman would walk down the street with fresh morning coffee and new bought bakeries, messy morning hair and still in pajamas trousers under the winter jackets.

It was a clear morning - the sky was completely blue and not a cloud could be seen. You could still sense how the rain had washed away everything last night - and it was even colder, but I didn't find it uncomfortable today. I felt like laughing.

Though I knew the laundromat was always heated because of the tumble dryers I wasn’t eager to get there today. I was still slightly hoping to walk into a guy with jade green eyes, dimples when he smiled and that perfect mess of curly brown hair.

And after believing to have seen him for the third time - though of course it wasn’t him - I stopped in the middle of the street, as it had hit me. I was absolutely crazy about Harry Styles and his every little detail - from the way he would withhold his smile to the way he would push back the hair to the way he always had doodles from various ink pens scribbled on his hands. I was absolutely crazy about him and wanted to learn about every damn little insignificant detail of his. I wanted to hear his story - and his thoughts - and his opinions - and kiss him again - and have him hold my hand - and have him hug me from behind - and kiss his jawline and all of his other mesmerizing details.  

As I finally reached the laundromat I had the biggest beam and an even more bubbling feeling inside - a woman exited the glass door and I entered after having greeted her with a way too cheerful good morning - for what would be considered normal from a stranger. What the hell was wrong with me? She had sent me a puzzled grin and replied the gesture, though more restrained.

Otherwise the small place with the many awaiting dreadfully ugly machines was empty. The ceiling fluorescent lights were not necessary, as daylighted floated in through the huge windows to the street. It looked like something from the 70’s with the red plastic seats and the old fashioned silver machines which had this orange plastic surface in front. Even the walls had the most awful pastel green color, but I still liked it in here an awfully lot. I liked the sound of the lightly rumbling machines and putting my feet up, while reading or just looking at the circulating movements, while thinking. Or sometimes even just listen to others busy conversations as they spoke loudly into their phones.

After slipping out of my jacket and scarf I quickly stuffed one machine with all my white clothes and another with my colored ones. Constantly with the slight hope that Harry Styles would walk in. Constantly actually, though I knew it would never happen. My life sure as hell wasn’t a movie - plus metting him and that kiss in the rain had been enough movie cliches for this year I was sure.

I wanted so badly for him to be here though - so I could sit and simply talk with him. Hear his excited raspy voice mingle with the familiar rumbling sound of the washing machine. Hear his laughter. Simply observe how he would probably fit in here perfectly with his utter hipster style and timeless appearance. He could fit perfectly in anywhere with his charm and looks I thought. I could just imagine him before me, writing concentrated in his journal while I would maybe read - or just look at him because I could. How he occasionally would look up at me and smile.

I was going crazy. I was crazy. I was completely out of my mind.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about him, which was why I grabbed the journal I still had in my shoulder bag and took place on a plastic seat with my back up against one of the still warm machines.

If I didn’t have the real life Harry Styles here with me - at least it felt a little like he was here when I read the scribbled words of his most treasured journal.

When was I going to see him again? 

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a/n: 

kay probably a little dull  'filler' this chapter BUT i just wanted to show you guys how cray cray Amber is too ha :D x also I was wondering - do you have like a favorite quote just from like any book/movie etc. ? :) comment it bellow if so! :D I'm a sucker for quotes ha ^^