roses so red [harry lewis]

bouquets of reasons

CHAPTER 6: bouquets of reasons

There was a loud knocking at the door, pulling Harry's attention from the footy match on the TV and dragging him to his feet.

He unlocked the door, swinging it open to see Rose standing there, wearing an elegant black dress and a pair of hot pink heels, her hair pin straight and her makeup light and refined. "Is Callum here?" She asked in greeting, not crossing the threshold just yet.

Harry glanced around, looking confused. "He left hours ago."

"Well, not for the dinner date he planned, clearly." Rosalie sighed, inviting herself inside and sitting down at the island on one of their spinning stools. "Could you try ringing him? He keeps sending me to voicemail."

Harry nodded, pushing the door closed and pulling out his phone. In all likelihood, Callum would answer Rosalie before he answered him, but it would hurt more to tell her that than to give it a shot. 

He dialed the boy, lifting his phone to his ear and giving Rose a tentative look. She had her hands woven together on the counter, her eyes wandering the flat absently with an unreadable look on her face.

"What?" Callum's voice answered on the second ring, chaos and voices audible behind him. 

"Hey, Rosalie came looking for you. Said you missed dinner?" Harry said, his eyes meeting Rose's as she spun to face him, her eyebrows drawing together.

"Whatever, we can reschedule." Callum brushed off, sounding irritated that Harry had even called. "I'm busy, don't call me again."

He hung up, leaving Harry to look down at his phone with a confused look. "He said he was busy and you'd reschedule." Harry informed tightly, expecting Rosalie to give his phone one of those glares that could burn down a building, but instead seeing a blank look drop onto her face.

"I waited for two hours." Rose said softly, her words almost inaudible. Harry didn't know what to say back, so he just slid his phone into his pocket and stood still, facing her from across the room.

A long moment sat between them before she stood up, pushing in the chair and walking towards the door. "Thanks, Harry." Rose said, her eyes facing forward blankly. "Night."

"Night, Rose." Harry said back, watching her leave and pull the door closed behind herself.

He stayed still for a moment before he wandered back to the couch, but he couldn't seem to focus on the game any longer. His mind was pulling in so many different directions that he didn't even know what train of thought to board.

He'd been so wrong about Rosalie and Callum, had everything entirely backwards about them. She was trying so hard, getting beaten down and ignored and stood up and yet she kept coming back, trying so hard to make him happy and satisfied so he would keep her.

Callum was out, hitting on girls in videos and in front of her, having sex with her instead of spending real time with her, leaving her alone at dates he'd planned and never telling her where he'd gone. Fighting with her, but then fighting for her, pulling her in two entirely different directions so fast it must've given her whiplash.

Harry ran his hands through his hair. He'd enabled that, pinning her as a demon and fighting with her like she was the bad guy, when really he'd been so backwards that he was almost flipped upside down. Callum wasn't a bad guy, but he was trying to tie himself to a girlfriend when he wasn't ready for that responsibility, wasn't confident and vulnerable enough to make that connection to anyone, and Rosalie was just sitting there, waiting for that to change.

She was putting herself on the line and Callum didn't even realize he was the one drawing it.

The door banged open and Callum stumbled through it, a girl's bright laugh following in his wake as a curvy brunette followed him in the door, her hands clutching his arm as he talked loudly about their Uber driver, imitating a posh British accent and sending her into a flurry of giggles again.

Callum didn't even look Harry's way, maybe he didn't even see him, before he was guiding the girl towards his room, both hands pulling on her waist and his face falling into a sultry look. Harry watched him go, his stomach flipping. 

He looked down at his phone, opening his contacts and sliding down to where Rosalie's name would be, but it wasn't there - he'd never saved her number. Harry threw his phone down on the couch, sinking back and staring up at the ceiling as he tried not to throw up.