Infatuated (hsau)

chapter 8.

The second option is definitely the plan, but it's still nice to think I'll do something exciting.

Before leaving I felt the sudden urge to write in my journal. I made a promise that I'd do it everyday and normally I just do it before I go to bed but today I knew exactly what to write without even having to think about it for too long.

Reason 341: For sunny morning skies and tranquility.

On my feet are my converse, the ones Harry also seems to have which has me cringing at the thought of us having matching shoes, but at least we weren't going to be seen together today. I'm in a good headspace right now, I don't want that ruined by anyone or anything so I'm just not gonna give them the chance. I'll deal with that shit tonight but for now, I'm going to play my feel good playlist extra loud and drive to the florist like I'm in a music video.

I have no problem with getting flowers from the supermarket but the local florist is the sweetest lady ever and I'd much rather give her little business my money than a supermarket. I come in here every week for a new bunch of flowers for my kitchen table as a present to myself for making it to each new week.

Self love at its best, right?

Each time I come into the shop I'm greeted with the same smell of fresh flowers and it's a smell I don't think I'll ever get sick of. Although, the smell isn't the best thing about the shop, it's definitely the florist herself.

"Harlow! Nice to see you dear, you look lovely!" Exclaims June from behind the counter.

I'm convinced she was always meant to be a florist, especially with a name like that. She's the cutest lady I know and reminds me a lot of my Grandma. My grandma would love June, maybe that's the reason I find myself coming here so much.

"Hi June," I smile, walking over to the counter.

"What's it today, flowers for your mum or for you?" She asks politely.

"Just my weekly ones, I think some sunflowers or something summery," I reply, gaining an even bigger smile from her.

"I suppose it's your lucky day, got some sunflower bouquets made up in the back, I'll be a second." June says excitedly.

Bless her, she's too sweet. If I'm not as carefree and lovely as June when I'm older, I don't want it. Seeing her waltz around her little Floristry in her yellow apron brings me so much peace. If I make it to 73, I hope I'll be like that except with 12 cats in my house instead of running  a flower shop.

If I make it to 73 that is.

"These okay?" She shouts from the door leading to the back, standing with a bunch of sunflowers mixed in with some other smaller ones. This really is an art form, how she manages to get these arrangements looking so beautiful I'll never know.

"They're great June, perfect." I smile back.

The pride she has in her flowers honestly melts my heart. She does such a good job so the pride she has in herself is genuinely earned rather than just straight narcissism like someone I know.

"Do you want me to prepare a nice bunch for your mum for next week love?" She asks, bagging up the bunch of sunflowers.

June already knows what the answer should be, I should say yes but of course, I'm going to say no. I'd love to but I really struggle with going to see my mum when I haven't been for a while, I never know what to say or do.

June's been doing the flowers for my mum for almost a year now so she's watched my visits to see her become less and less. Each time I come in she asks about preparing something for me to take, I just can't seem to do it though.