Do You Remember? ☼ Harry Styles A.U.

𝚃𝚠𝚘

"Do you remember what happened at the flower shop?" I asked, tucking rogue stray hairs behind his ear.

"I want to remember." He murmured softly instead of telling me he didn't. His choice of words made me smile to him. The amount of love I held towards this person was incomparable.

"So we cycled through the city..."

~

So we cycled through the city until we finally made it to our destination. I remember it being around sunset, the golden sun rays reflecting on the windows of the buildings we cycled past. I remember looking at your hair, asking myself why long hair amongst men wasn't more encouraged. It gave you a breath of adventure, a hint of freedom to yourself. I barely knew you Harry yet I followed you through the city. You were a complete stranger to me but I had the impression you've been here all my life. You know this sensation you get, those vibrations on your skin, when you feel the kindness radiating off a random person on the street? I don't know how I could explain it to you otherwise but that's how it was for me.

The facade of the shop showed up sooner than expected, a yellow neon light spelling Harry's garden on the outside. I remember looking at you as you got off your bike and chained it on the sidewalk, I recall doing the same as you and following you short. The smell of gardenias was the first thing my senses could register the moment I stepped inside. I vaguely remember you tying your hair up in a bun with a white scrunchie, I remember laughing and you looking at me over your shoulder with a smile.

"Welcome to Harry's garden." I remember you say.

"Who's Harry?" I had asked. God, the more I remember that I actually asked that, the more embarrassed I grow. You always told me you had found it cute.

"I'm Harry." You had answered. "Oh, we didn't introduce ourselves! I'm Harry Styles."
You gave me your hand to shake.

"I'm Delilah Grant." I let my hand slip in yours, your calloused fingers brushing against mines. I guessed you took care of the flowers yourself and it only made sense: you roughed your fingers up digging in the soil and planting the seeds, cutting the excess of stems and cultivating them. You bruised your skin with their thorns because flowers were just worth the pain, the softness of their petals made up for the callouses in your digits. Perhaps that's one of the things I think of most when you ask me why I love you so much.

"Well, Delilah, would you want to tour around the flowers?" You had asked. I remember nodding, and you walking, and me following. Once I looked down I had realized your hand didn't leave mine yet. A simple handshake turned into much more but it was unspoken, it was implicit but it was fine. The universe had decided to ignore this little connection during that day, making it insignificant, but it was the least insignificant touch ever. Your hand was big and warm, it made up for the cold of my skin when Luca's hand had left my own. You walked around the shelves, naming every flower and sometimes even adding what they symbolized.

Little did we know that the warmth provided by the merging of my hand and yours gave the seed of love the right conditions to germinate. Your heart and mine beat in the same zone on earth, providing this little seed with the attention it needed to break and bloom. We wandered around the shelves and you made me smell all your favorite flowers, we laughed at your inability to decide which one was really your favorite. Our laughter was so loud we couldn't hear our seed breaking free. We didn't hear the shooting star above our head liberating through the cosmos, we didn't see the planets aligning with our fate. We laughed and let the universe do the rest; we smelled the flowery aromas and let our hearts burst free.

"The gladiolus is a symbol of strength and integrity." You had pointed the last jar with light pink flowers, and I thought those were the ones I needed. I needed the strength to hold on tight, to dare and get over Luca's departure. I grasped onto the flowers hoping they'd nourish my soul with the courage I needed to get over the man who broke my heart. Your face had softened incredibly, I remember how your eyebrows had bent slightly but you didn't comment. Your lively smile returned to your posie pink lips and you took care of gathering the flowers I had chosen into a bouquet I could hold.

The light wood counter interposed between us, your hand separating from my own for the first time. We had always been apart but after getting to taste what it meant to hold you, being apart from you disturbed me. Nevertheless I let you go for the time remaining, taking care of my bouquet instead. I zoned out in the decor of the shop, the soft yellow neon light from outside reflecting on the sidewalk, the sky that was now completely dark. Nevertheless your garden was a small drop of light in the middle of darkness, a safe haven where flowers could never fear the lack of sun.

"Your flowers." You had said to wake me up from my reverie, and I held them in my arms like a baby I rocked to sleep. After paying for my purchase we eventually had to part ways, but I knew it wasn't the last time I'll walk into Harry's Garden. The healthy blush of your cheeks made sure of that. Now that I recall these memories, I swear Harry, I can almost hear your voice as you had told me: "Thank you for shopping here. Have a safe way back home."

You waved and let me go, but I didn't know what truly lied behind your shy smile. The moment I had gone outside and put the bouquet into the basket at the front of my bike, I noticed a small note between the flowers. I didn't remember requesting a note, but the sight of one had only made my heart beat a thousand times faster.

My gladioli and I wish you all the strength you need to overcome your obstacles. I hope you have an evening as beautiful as your eyes, and I hope to see you again.
Harry x

It had been the first time I received a note. I had always found them so intimate, so heartfelt, but I had never found any around my belongings. You thought of me and took the time to write one for me, it explained your little smile at the end, as if you knew something I didn't. It was incredibly meaningful to me Harry. It mended part of my broken heart but I didn't know it right this instant. I only remember cycling back home with sparkles in my head, ridiculous flutters in my chest and the wind running through my hair. I felt like an inflated balloon. I bought myself flowers for the first time, I received a note for the first time, and meeting a person as considerate as you were drew a smile on my face.

~

"What you say about me is always so flattering." He looked down at the hospital bed sheets yet his lips were smiling. I wanted to kiss them but I wanted him to remember it. I forced myself in my seat and gripped at his hand instead, kissing his knuckles softly.

"You're really all I say and much more." I murmured to him. "You are tough too, you know?" I ran a hand through his curls, Harry's head tilting so he could grant me better access.

"I know." He muttered. "But then I am curious about what happened after that. Could you keep it going?"

"Do you remember what happened the week after?"