I start to get a little nervous when Harry directs me to go down a dirt road that looks like its leading to nowhere.
"Don't be nervous." he says, putting his hand gently on my knee.
I don't look nervous do I?
I take a glimpse in the mirror and stop myself from biting on my lip. It's always been a bad habit of mine when I get nervous or anxious.
I look down at his hand on my knee and then back at him,"I'm not"
Once he noticed me looking at his hand on my knee, he quickly pulled back and put both his hands in his pocket.
I want to know what he's thinking right at this moment. I can't tell what his emotions are, they could be anywhere near pissed off or embarrased.
He tells me to park near the end of the dirt road where a field of grass lies before us.
"What s this place?" I ask.
"My dad brought me here when we first moved here and I just fell in love with the atmosphere. My dad and I used to bird watch or play ball . Since then I come here sometimes and relive those memories. My mind becomes so clear when I lay on that field. I dont know what it is but It's like once I lay there everything around me stops. I don't have to think about the future or worries or any of that. I'm just calm."
I know exactly what this place is to him. I had one of these places back home in Oregon. It was my mother's garden. The flowers were always in full bloom and beautiful and everything about that place brought me joy. I remember the days where my mother and I used to garden and spray eachother with water. That garden was filled with smiles, laughs, and tears. So many tears. After she died I tried so hard to keep the garden as beautiful as she had it but the more I tried the more worse it got. The flowers wilted, the tomatoes rotted, and everything became dead and dark. My mother was like the garden, so beautiful and nurturing, and once she died the garden died and I tried and tried to bring her back but the garden was just a sad reminder that she is gone and dead.
"Why did you bring me here?" I ask, following him towards a tree on the grass field.
"I got a lot on my mind and I know you do too." he replies.
He sits down on the field and rests up against the trunk of the tree. He moves over and makes space for me next to him.
"How do you know I got a lot on my mind? You don't know me." I know I'm being rude but the it's my natural instinct to shut people out and that's exactly what I'm doing.
"That's the point. I want to know you."
I remain silent and repeat his words over and over again in my head. Why would anyone want to know me?
"You don't want to know me." I whisper.
Minutes pass and none of us say anything. The silence engulfs me and I find myself lost in my thoughts. I want to open up to Harry but I know that if do he'll find my weakness and use it against me like Trey. Either that or he'll laugh, make fun of me, and probably stop talking to me. I'll always be known as the damaged girl.
"You're so hard to figure out" he finally says.
I look down at my hands and then out to the beautiful sight of the grass field in front of me. I can't look at him in the eyes, I will lose it.
"Maybe that's the way I want it to be"
"Why do you want it to be that way?" He's trying to find answers. Answers that I can't give him and he's getting desperate. He touches my leg in hopes to get me to look at him but I don't. I keep my eyes locked out in front of me.
"Sometimes it's not a choice. Sometimes it's forced upon you and you can't do anything about it and after a while it just becomes normal." I say not showing any emotion.
"What's your story? Why are you so guarded?" he touches my chin so I'm facing towards him. I stare into his eyes for a brief moment before looking down at his shoulder.
"I don't have a story." I hate being so distant but it's something that I've gotten used to that it doesn't bother me.
He sighs and stands up frustratedly. He paces back and forth tugging at his hair before he sits back down next to me.
He grabs the sides of my face, forcing me to look into his eyes.
"Open up to me." He doesn't take his eyes off mine
"it's not that simple. I'm complicated. Trust me you dont want to know me." I say as stong as I can. I feel a tear slip down my cheek. Harry brushes his thumb along my cheek and catches the few tears that have started to spill.
His rough fingers trace over my lips as he rests his forehead against mine and exhales loudly. His lips fan over mine and I move in closer until I close the gap in between us. His lips are soft as they work against mine. Everything in this moment seems so right but so terribly wrong. I need to stop but my lips aren't connected to my brain as they continue to move in sync with his.
I slowly pull away but his lips linger over mine. I'm slightly out of breath when I speak,"We should go get your car."
He's the first one to stand up. He dusts himself off and holds his hand out for me to take. He helps me up and keeps my hand locked in his as we make our way back to the car.
The whoe ride home is filled with silence, apart from Harry guiding me to the car mechanic. I'm actually dreading dropping him off for two reasons: one because I don't know if I should kiss him or not when he leaves? I know our goodbye is going to be awkward and I do not look forward to that. Two because a part of me doesn't want him to leave. I enjoy being around him.
"Give me your phone" he demands once the car comes to a stop. I pull my phone from my pocket and hand it to him.
"Now you have my number." He simply states.
"Okay" I say.
"Okay" he says almost like he's mimicking me.
"Thanks by the way." He says, turning to look at me.
"It's no problem. Oh here I forgot you bought lunch let me pay you back." I remember taking out my wallet.
"No no no. You keep your money. Lunch was on me, don't worry about it." He smiles.
"Oh, well thank you then." I return his smile but then look away.
"I guess I'll be seeing you." he says, unbuckling his seat belt and moving towards me.
For a second I think he's going to kiss me again but his lips turn away and kiss my cheek before he leaves the car.
I drive away and try to rub off the newly formed smile on my face.
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Burn // h.s
Fanfiction“You kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire. He had wondered once why love was always phrased in terms of burning. The conflagration in his own veins, now, gave the answer." She's the candle that cannot burn without his flame. He's the fir...
