From The Dining Table [H.S]

Epilogue

Nodding hesitantly, he let out a quiet "fine.", leaning forward to kiss my cheek.

There was something most definitely off with him, and it had only occurred in the last hour or so because he wasn't like this earlier on the walk.

Silence ate away at us, both of us just looking out into the distance.

I took the time to reflect on everything, on how far I'd come as a person and how that was undeniably thanks to the man sat next to me. When I think back to the beginning of our relationship, and all the stupid things I said, the awful mistakes I made and how I cried at absolutely everything, I weirdly laugh about it. Because now, it seems so unbelievable that she was a real person. I don't see myself ever going back there - feeling so insecure and untrusting, feeling like everyone and everything is out to get me - and I know that's because I don't see myself leaving Harry. Ever.

After spending every day with him for the last 3 months, the idea of being apart for even a day sends shivers down my spine so harsh that I become dizzy and overwhelmed.

I never believed a love like this existed, let alone that I of all people would be blessed enough to experience it.

People say romance is dead, however if you look hard enough, I believe love is out there for everyone. There is no specific fit for someone, there is no true way to find it, and there is no certainty that we will all find it, but it is out there for everyone. Some of us find it easier than others, some of us are gifted with it immediately, others have to walk from hell and back to even find a sliver of it.

It's the hope that kept me going.

Hope in what, however, I am uncertain of: hope in Dan to change, hope in redemption, hope in freedom, hope in escaping, hope for a better tomorrow.

And then I was given Harry.

No... given is the wrong word. Given is far too casual to even begin to encase the astonishing grace I was so generously allowed to welcome in to my life. Given doesn't denote the endless happiness, the never ending smiles, it doesn't cover every, single thing I would do for this man. I would walk to hell and back a million times if it meant I could so much as hug him.

Harry deserves the world, and he was given it in the most adoring and supportive way possible. His life is far from perfect - isn't everyones? - but he himself, is the definition of perfection, and his life is a mere factor into such transcendence.

I could think of nobody better to sing such beautiful words to such a beautiful group of people.

"I saw a flower that reminded me of you today." Harry's voice dances through my thoughts, drifting me back to reality as I turned to face him.

"A flower?" I question, placing my champagne down and turning my body so that my head was now resting in his lap.

He nodded, placing his glass down and bringing his hand to stroke the side of my face, his pointer finger looping around a curl to twirl it between his fingers.

"Really? What type?" I ask, looking up at him.

"A daisy." His voice seemed calmer, steadier than before as he stated such a simple phrase.

"A daisy?" I raise an eyebrow at him, intrigued by this thought. "Why a daisy?"

"Well..." Harry shuffled down the blanket, leaning down so he was laying against the cushions, his back angled up slightly. "People walk all over daisies like they are nothing - nobody seems to care for the beauty that is a daisy as much as they would for a rose or a tulip. It's only those who see behind the delicate, white petals, who stop to admire the daisy in all it's serenity, carefully picking it from it's bed and lacing it with many other relatives, that truly understand the simplistic charm of a daisy."