My Sunflower *h.s*

31

I'm sorry, again. . . Also this meme is how I think all of you feel about me rn

***

Molly - 21 weeks pregnant

"Have you talked to Harry yet?" I shook my head at Erica and Anderson, sipping the tea in my hand. I adverted my eyes down, looking at the old scratched up table in the coffee shop. I set the warm mug down on the table, my hands still wrapped around it.

"No, he still calls everyday but I can never seem to pick up the phone. I just sit there and stare at it until his name disappears." They both looked at me in sympathy, there eyes soft and small frowns on their face.

"Maybe its time to talk to him, I know what he did isn't right but he seems really remorseful." Anderson's voice was soft, he was being careful as to not upset me or overstep a line. Erica nodded at his words, agreeing with him.

"I don't know. . . you saw the photos, I don't know what he could say to prove those photos weren't what they were. I mean, they were basically kissing. . ." I sighed, keeping my head down, my eyes following the scratches in the wood. I lifted a finger to trace the dips and groves, trying my best to keep my emotions in.

"I know, which was wrong. But Molly look at you, you're miserable here. I know you miss him." Erica reached over, placing her hand on mine. She grabbed it and gave me a comforting squeeze. I looked up at her to see a small smile on her face, Anderson still held a straight face. We ran into him the day after we got to London and i've seen him almost everyday since being here.

Anderson was Norah's boyfriend when she passed, my whole family loved him and when she passed he just started coming around the house more often. He was heartbroken and didn't know where else to go so he's sort of just become part of the family. He comes to family dinners and holidays every year. I think my parents think of him as a son, we were all sure Anderson and Norah were going to get married too.

"I know I miss him but I feel like if I call him then he'll think I've forgiven him, which I haven't. And you know how I am around him, I'm like putty in his hands, if he asks me to come home I would probably do it." I sighed, resting my chin into my palm, tracing the divers in the wood still.

"I'm not saying you should go home, just talk to him. See what he says, maybe this is all just a big misunderstanding. You know how the media likes to twist things."

"I don't know how they could have twisted those photos, they're pretty self explanatory." She sighed, patting my hand.

"I know kiddo, I just want you to be happy. And he seems to make you happy."

"I thought he made me happy. . ." I adverted my eyes again, not wanting to look at their sympathetic gazes. I appreciated that they were worried and trying to help, but I really just wanted to drop the subject. I came to London to get out of the life of Harry Styles, but it's hard when he constantly follows you around. If it weren't for the baby, it would have been so much easier to make a clean break. But every time I try to block him or angrily pick up the phone to yell at him, I feel her kick me. It's like she knows and is telling me to wait. 

It's so frustrating. 

Harry calls everyday, multiple times a day. I always feel the buzzing of my phone and see his face flash across it. It was a photo I took at the sunflower field without him looking, after he was done taking all those photos of me. His face was turned away from me and the sun was shining on his face, his fingers delicately holding a sunflower as he smelled it. I always found myself just staring at the photo, my fingers hovering over the answer button. But the second I found the small courage to hit the answer button, he was gone.