Infinite [h.s.]

13. the blissful kind

🎵Crush — Cigarettes After Sex
🎵Enchanted — Taylor Swift
🎵Everywhere — Fleetwood Mac

I've spent the past three hours fucking panicking.

I didn't know what to wear; a million tshirts and button downs were scattered across my bedroom. I finally settled a yellow and pink floral button-down, drawn to the yellow because of the spot I've got in mind for our date.

I just didn't know how to occupy myself until it was time to go over to Aurelia's and pick her up for our date; all that seemed to float through my mind were thoughts of her. I managed to eat a banana to put something in my stomach, but my nerves were just fuckin' haywire.

I hardly ever get like this; then again, all the emotions that Aurelia brings out of me, I've hardly come across them at all before her.

I tidied up the apartment a bit after the mess I made trying to figure out an outfit, but that didn't do much to help. I thought of the way she seemed so at ease in my kitchen; the way she sipped from that glass that now sat in the sink — her lipstick stain was still on it; the way she snuggled herself in my bed beside me.

For fuck's sake, my sheets still even smell like her. I'm dreading the moment her scent disappears from it.

I'm clearly fuckin' whipped; I just miss her presence in my apartment. She did make it seem lighter, fitting of her.

My phone call with Mitch wasn't much help, either. He was shocked I had "grown the balls to finally ask Ella out on a date" — his words, not mine — and asked me a million and one fucking questions, which made me even more anxious.

After I got off the phone with the owners of the place, I immediately began to doubt myself.

Would this be too much for a first date?

Then again, this isn't exactly traditional; hell, I'd never really been traditional. My life isn't exactly traditional.

I just don't remember the last time I really wanted to go on a date with someone. Maybe I'm overthinking it, but can I really be blamed?

Last night arose a million more of those emotions out of me, all foreign and strange to me. All emotions that I'd thought I'd forgotten.

All because of her.

I'm grateful when 2:30 rolls around; getting to her part of the city after going to the flower shop would fill up those 30 minutes.

Would I be too early?

I did say 3, but do people ever really meet on the dot?

Stop overthinking, Harry.

Before I drive myself even more mad, I grab the keys to my Range and lock my apartment door, heading out into the warm weather. New York has been blessed with lovely weather as of late, and I'm not complaining one bit.

The sun isn't as hot as it was earlier in the day and I bask in the sunlight for a few minutes before I climb into the driver's seat, starting the engine. As I wait for it to warm up, my fingertips hover over my phone screen.

Should I text her?

I decide against it; I don't want to be a nuisance. She already knows I'll be at her place in a little while.

I put the car in drive, swerving through the streets of Manhattan as I head for the flower shop a few minutes away. I've gotten fresh flowers from them a few times, and this time was even better. When I arrive, I quickly settle on a bouquet of fresh sunflowers — hoping they really are Ella's favorite.