Sunflower Vol.6 [H.S]

eight

What did he do to you?
Marina Young's POV

Sometimes it felt like the past was a thing that effected me all too much. I knew the past was a complicated thing for any human. But in my experiences, it had really put a toll on me. Which is why I believed that was why Harry turned off the car but didn't move from his spot. We were parked in his garage after getting home from the studio. The adrenaline from all the song writing still reminding me what it was like. "Can we talk a little?" He asks me, finally turning to look at me. I fidget with the material of my pants when I stare back.

Even if Harry never shared as much as I did I could still read him well. I wouldn't tell him that but it was always easy to see the questions lingering in his green irises. "Sure." I say and he nods faintly when he sighs quietly.

"Those songs you wrote today were really good." Harry mentions and all I want to do is mold into the passenger seat to not have the discussion I feel happening. "You know, you don't really give yourself enough credit when it comes to you being a really talented artist." He comments and I shake my head as I glance away. I lookout to the other cars in the room instead of his face.

"It's something anybody could do."

"Wrong." He says which makes me peer back at him. He still remains to keep eye contact with me. It's like he watches me with such interest in my actions. "Because I know for a fact there aren't people who write like you." He tells me. "Sunny, you write like every lyric has already been formed in your head to just fit perfectly in any song."

"That's not true." I state. "I've written bad songs, Harry." I bring up as the left side of his mouth creeps up into a smile. He finds what I say amusing. "Is this what you wanted to talk about?" I question. "You want make me blush and compliment me on my songwriting until I probably disappear and explode from embarrassment?" I ask him and he shakes his head as he laughs quietly.

"No, what I really wanted to talk about what those songs meant." He bluntly tells me. "But I feel like I know you wouldn't just tell me if I started it off like that." Harry states and I grin at his assumption.

"I don't mind talking about what my songs mean. I just think that some lyrics explain themselves without me saying the story." I say and he nods.

"I agree." Harry states. "But I also think that when it comes to you, there's more than meets the eye." He adds. He wasn't wrong but I wasn't sure if I should tell him that. "So is it okay if I ask?"

I nod and he seems to get more comfortable when I do.

"So that second song," He starts off. "I'm assuming it's an ex." He says and I nod again with a shy smile. "So is this ex an asshole or was it exaggerated because that song made me feel," He pauses trying to think of a word. But I speak before he could.

"His name was Dylan and he was singer as well." I start off. "His band was nothing crazy and they were still climbing their way to the top when I met them. But I met him when he came to one my gigs with a friend of mine ... We hit it off and he asked me out." I explain and sigh softly. "I feel like from the start we liked each other a lot more than we have liked anyone else. It was really heavy real quick." I recall and wonder how I am speaking about this topic. "We were together for two years and like I said, from the start it was like we fell in love in the first week. So after the two years I still felt the same way about him. But umm ... Dylan he kind of just," I pause feeling like suffocation was playing into my lungs.