PETAL | HARRY STYLES

SIXTY.

*I made the mistake of listening to Visions of Gideon on a loop while writing this*

"Harry look!" Fleur's voice calls from a distance.

Harry raises his head and lifts his sunglasses, squinting to the area she's at. To his amusement, Fleur's running toward him in the sand, waving her hand in the air. She's holding something.

"What is it, petal?" He wonders, propping himself up.

Fleur drops down beside him, opening her hand to reveal two beautiful seashells in the palm of her hand. She's grinning, buzzing with excitement.

"Seashells!" She exclaims. "They remind me of us."

"How so?"

"Well this one," She points to the larger one with black spots. "Reminds me of you because you're taller and the black spots are like your tattoos. And this one reminds me of me because when I found your seashell, mine was right on top of it and I can't go a day without you."

Harry smiles, unable to contain it. He takes the seashells from her, staring down at them.

"Seashell Styles." He jokes, earning a snicker from her.

"That was so stupid!" Fleur giggles, leaning forward and pressing her forehead to his arm.

"These are the ones you hold your ears so you can hear the ocean, right?"

Fleur nods, "But, these are special. They're like our little walkie talkies."

"What?" He chuckles.

"See, I'll hold onto yours forever, and whenever I want to say something to you, I'll speak into it. So whenever you lift your ear to it, you'll hear my voice. As long as you keep mine close to you."

Harry beams at her, cupping her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

"I'll never let it go."

Harry woke up this morning and held her seashell to his ear.

And yet, he heard nothing.

Now he stands in the grass, only a few feet away from her casket.

Suddenly his tie feels as though it's too tight and he's being strangled. And it begins to settle into the pit of his stomach again.

Six feet under. She'll be six feet under by the end of today.

A month ago, he woke up to the sight of her face. He kissed her. She kissed him back. They basked in the beauty of the growing baby inside her. And they were happy.

This morning Harry woke up to the empty side again. He kissed no one. No one kissed him. And here Harry is, holding that beautiful baby with a feeling of complete heartbreak.

Harry met Fleur with a broken heart and Harry lost Fleur with a healed heart. Only for it to be broken again.

It was over before he knew it. He had tried to zone out everything he could and now it's just over.

Everyone around him begins to approach the casket that's about to be lowered. They all hold a single sunflower to throw in.

Anne approaches Harry, holding the bouquet of sunflowers in her hand. She gives it to Harry, who has tears welling up in his eyes as they prepare the casket.

He stands in the front, Rosie cradled in his arm. June walks up beside him, silently nodding at him. The rest of Fleur's family is on the other side, quietly sobbing as the casket begins to drop.