#i made harry such a mummys boy lmaoo

[hisarchives]

secret lover : h.s

Harry is a quiet man, choosing the comforts of his diary and Mother’s flower store over the outside world. Within the shop he meets who he can only describe as an angel, a woman who comes by every Monday to pick up a bouquet of flowers for her sick friend. He lives in his own reality but, a rainy day and an absent Mother creates the perfect opportunity to step out into her world.

this is my first piece for Harry and the first piece i’ve written in over a year so i apologise if it’s rough ! i hope you enjoy it however xx

Dear diary,

The day is the twentieth of August; the weather is fucking horrible, raining for the third day in a row. The shop is empty; apparently, no one urges to buy tulips when the weather is so macabre. I am hoping this is not true for everyone. There are five minutes left before she is meant to be here, to buy a bouquet of daises and forget-me-nots for her friend who has been sick for the past five months. She never misses a Monday, always coming in at 11:26 am during her lunch break. Mum always has her flowers ready for her along with a chocolate from the bakery next door. Her favourites are the dark chocolate ones. I pay too much attention to her.

The flower store, better known as Sunbeams with the fading smiley face on the shop window, was empty. The world around it was filled with a grey colour yet inside the shop was its own rainbow made up of petunias, pansies and many more flowers. In one corner of the shop where all the succulents and hanging plants were kept sat a young man, tatted arms covered in a sunshine sweater, staring down at a leather bound diary. He can always be seen writing in the old thing with ear buds in, neglecting the world around him.

He was an enigma to the people of Holmes Chapel. Everyone knew of him but no one knew him. Harry, that was his name, he was a weird one. Despite his Mum, Anne and his sister Gemma being the most adventurous and charismatic people in all of Britain, Harry was the opposite. He hid behind his long ringlets and enormous sweaters, eyes downcast as if to make eye contact with someone was a death wish. His posture was quite atrocious, constantly hunched over in attempts to protect himself. In spite of his obvious need to hide from the world, he still caught the eyes of some of the people in Holmes Chapel simply because despite the walls he built around him, his beauty was radiant. A sort of beauty that felt like the softness of sunshine yet held the abrasive nature of a Nirvana song. He held no evident love for anything else besides his Mum and the comfort of his book.

At exactly 11:26 the first customer of Sunbeams stumbled in, body trembling as the rain soaked into her skin. She rubbed her arms with a vigorous nature trying to bring them back to life as she walked towards the counter. As always, her small bouquet sat on top the counter, wrapped up beautifully besides a small homemade chocolate. A smile warmed her face and created an inferno within Harry as he admired her. Harry had decided that in this moment that maybe she was the reason for global warming. He saw her awkwardly look around for Anne to appear to serve her and Harry cursed inwardly as he remembered that his Mum had left to drop off lunch for his sister. He would have to serve her, but how could he do so when he has never even held eye contact with her?

Yes, Harry had not shared a word, a glance or a touch with the woman but had conjured such a deep infatuation for her within his heart. It was at this that he was reminded that he did not even know her name. He had the heart of an old romanticist poet or a twelve-year-old boy, in love with everything at first sight.

“Hello, you’re Harry right?”

Harry did not have to look up to know she was looking at him, he could feel it on his skin. He stared at the pages covered in barely legible writing and small drawings with wide eyes. She had known his name. This was no amazing discovery, the town was small enough to know everyone on a first name basis, but this was still memorable for him. Never had his name sounded so good but the soft confidence that came from her lips made him fall in love with his name. Harry, Harry, it echoed in his mind.

Harry was so caught up in his mind that he did not see her coming towards him so he was incredibly unprepared for the gentle tap she gave him on his shoulder. His head shot up towards the women and for the first time he had looked into her eyes. They swallowed him like a motherly hug. He found a comfort inside her eyes that he had never found before. Harry was unprepared for how much of an artwork she truly was.

His lavender lips parted but no sound could come through. She let a small smile find home on her face and finally spoke again.

“Sorry for interrupting but, I’m just here to buy this bouquet of flowers” she held up the familiar pairing of flowers to his face. I know, Harry thought. “Your Mum is normally here but she must’ve ducked out to drop some lunch off for Gemma I’m assuming?” Her voice was so charming; he could finally understand all the metaphors writers made when saying love was like magic. She had definitely put a spell on him.

Harry just nodded at her question to verify her statement and stopped breathing yet again when she laughed.

“Your mum always talks about how Gemma forgets her lunch, she’s lucky that your Mum is so generous” The woman stepped back and began to sway in her spot.

He took the time to take her in because she simply could not be consumed in seconds. No, she needed to be admired in bites, each savouring the delicacy that is she. Her face that shun in place for the sun, her eyes that Harry noted were reminiscent of an Emily Barrett-Browning sonnet. She was snug in a large earth brown coat and one of those beanies that covered the ears, just like Holden Caulfields’. Did she have to be adorable in every single way?

“I’m l-lucky to have my Mum” His voice pierced through the air as its huskiness opposed her smoothness.

To most in Holmes Chapel, it was a luxury to hear the ever-quiet Harry speak. He rarely ever spoke and when he did, it was only to say a few words, maybe a muttered thank you or a quick yes to a question. Whatever it was, hearing his voice was a gift.

The flaps of her beanie whipped against her ears as she turned to look at him, a mixture of surprise and delight on her face. She quickly nodded and her smile grew now showing of her teeth.

“You definitely are, Harry”

A silence enveloped the two and normally Harry never felt safe in the shared quiet, but this one felt comfortable, as if he had lived within it his whole life. He was quite pleased with himself for speaking to her and her response made him feel belated. Harry was achieving more feats within five minutes than he had ever done in his twenty three years of life. His Mum is going to be extremely proud of him.

He saw her look down at her watch, one that looked on the verge of falling apart on her wrist, and heard a small sigh escape her.

“I need to head out now sorry, running a bit late” she shuffled back towards the counter with her right hand stuffed in her pocket evidently looking for money.

Before she could find any Harry had begun to shake his head causing his locks to bounce around his shoulders.

“It’s on the house” yet again his husky voice sparked a sharp reaction from her as she immediately stopped what she was doing to look at the man in front of her.

His hair was slightly messy after the rapid shaking of his head, hands wrapped up in the bottoms of his sleeves. His appearance was a contrast to the voice that escaped him earlier, the overwhelming brightness of his outfit juxtaposed the deepnees of his voice. It shook the woman in front of him to her core. Before she could speak again he cut her off with another shake of his head.

“Don’t forget your chocolate” these few words made her smile sprout on her face again.

She began to walk out of the shop backwards, eyes still staring into his and smile still growing. He was scared she was going to trip and stumble but she walked with an elegant confidence that astounded him. Before she opened the door to leave, she gave him the prettiest of nods and went off into the rain soaked world again.

Harry was left breathless, lifeless and for the first time in this life, thoughtless. After her departure, it was as if he forgot how to function, body falling apart without her presence around to keep him stitched together. He knew he would have to write about this day, document every detail about her, each in their own miniature essay. He reflected that maybe this was weird, that no normal person would write about some girl in immense depth. However, she was not just ‘some girl’, she was the closest a human would ever get to the heavens. She was comfort, warmth, a sense of belonging wrapped up in a coat too large for her.

This day had forever been etched onto Harry’s heart. It was the first time in his life he felt home, safety and acceptance within someone, besides his mother of course.