seraphic [h.s]

chapter twenty one.

I was more than convinced my eyes were glistening now, glistening under the sweetness of the june sun. Listening to this sweet boy talk about this girl again— she sounded nothing like me. I could sense the truth behind his words and yet I wished that I could meet her, not convinced that if only I looked into the reflection of the mirror, that she'd be the one staring back.

Harry's eyes fluttered down to my hands that sat fidgeting on my crossed legs, noticing the way I fiddled with them because of the burst of anxious energy screaming to get out. "Would you like to see mine now? I'll warn you though, it's no where near art gallery worthy compared to your own." He gushed, sending me a wink as the smile on my face widened without thought.

"Be quiet, you can do everything... I'm sure you can do this too." I playfully eyed him, noticing his head nodding in agreement. As he carefully gripped the canvas and turned it, the weight of my words only doubled in truth as my last sane breath left me.

Letting my eyes run across the mixture of colours, he spoke, "Your own world." And I could suddenly then see the words he'd said before. A stick figure stood in the centre— amber tinged hair and a sad smile. Around it stood the tallest cherry trees, stray leaves falling here and there depending on where you looked. A beautifully messy garden where the only flowers that spurted were the same colour as the sun. All of it intrigued me. I didn't know where I wanted to look first because every part was as dreamy as the other. "It's you. It's yours— your life, I mean. Even if you can't see it that way yet."

He was right. I didn't see it that way yet, or even at all. And because I held so much faith in his word, I wondered when I would see my life that way? Would it ever happen? Why couldn't I see the cherry trees around me? We're they really so tall that my vision couldn't reach? Or the sweet sunflowers that oozed their beautiful essence? Where were they?

I always felt guilty for thinking such thoughts. I had a home and family and a life of my own. Yet those things felt all tampered and bruised, because all I was yearning for was somebody to tell me that I was enough. That I could be different from the people who raised me, that my life didn't have to be as miserable as theirs. That I didn't have to carry the weight of the world even though I felt this empty.

"Can I keep it?" I wondered aloud.

Watching him nod, "Only if I can keep yours."

Harry shuffled himself up, grabbing all the things we'd used and putting them to the side. He reached out for me to hand him my canvas, and I did. He took it and placed both of ours near the rest of our things. "Come lie with me." He said, sprawling himself out after he'd reached into his bag, pulling out two popsicles.

I crawled over to him, lying beside his body, "Two questions. What flavour? And how are these still in tact? Even I'm melting." I took one from him, moving my head until it were in a comfortable position and seeing nothing but blue skies.

"Flavours watermelon, and like any sane person would, I brought a cooler bag." He clarified. I let out an impressed hum, feeling Harry move from beside me as then all of a sudden the crackle of noise sounded. Licking a drip that ran down the cylinder popsicle, I swivelled my head to the side, "And a radio. You brought a radio." I said as more of a statement that I should have known, because of course this perfect boy would bring that too.

"Told you Cherry girl. I'm a real big treat."

Rolling my eyes, I tried my best to look at the open sky staring back at me, though it was difficult with the burning sun, so hot and fiery. Licking away at the popsicle, loving the flavour because it had always been my favourite, I rid away the thought of Harry doing yet another thing right. "Tell me something good about Holmes Chapel. Something I don't know." I pleaded, listening to the background noise of voices from the radio and squeals of people from the water miles in front.