comfortable silence (hs)

socks and raspberries {5}*

Hi! I know so many people gave up on this story because it's been literally years... but I'm glad to be writing again :) it's funny how inspiration ebbs and flows like that.

Try to comment and vote if you can ❤️

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Harry showed up the next morning before noon. Daisy had decided to make brunch with Nana just when she heard the familiar sound of his labored breathing and the drop of his gardening tools beside the flower bed outside. She sliced the cucumber on the cutting board and glanced out of the window, catching a glimpse of his dark hair and already-dirty hands. He was bent over the soil, wearing loose jean overalls and a dark shirt beneath.

Nana made the ham and egg sandwiches while Daisy labored away on cucumber and cream cheese. She wasn't much a of a cook so sandwiches were the best she could do. It was a strangely bright morning for Kent, so Daisy grabbed her straw hat before carrying the platter outside.

"Good morning," Daisy greeted from the porch. There was a small table and cushioned lounger. She set the platter down as she watched Harry rub his hands off on his overalls and look up at her from the petunias.

"What's this? No frying pan?"

"Sorry to disappoint you," Daisy smirked, tucking her ravenous hair behind her ear. "I've brought sandwiches instead."

Harry held his hands up, which were nearly as dark as his tee. "I don't want to grab one like this."

Daisy nodded, sauntering back into the house to find him a hand-towel. She had gone to bed last night with a plethora of things on her mind- the letter from Piper (which she had reread before brushing her teeth), the grocery-trip with Zayn, the car ride with Harry. More than anything, she thought of their "hang out" later today. Was it going to be weird? Could she trust Harry's mouth to not let anything rude and patronizing slip out?

It was funny that her only somewhat friends so far in Kent were men. Back in uni, Daisy didn't really intermix with their kind unless it was drunkenly at a party or soberly on a date. It wasn't that Daisy didn't receive male attention- with the attractive contrast between her hair and her skin, and the rosiness of her full lips, she was on the receiving end of many daydreaming eyes. However, they never usually had the courage to speak to her. Daisy always assumed she just wasn't one of those girls- truthfully, she just had an intimidatingly intellectual aura to her that young college boys were not secure enough to give a try.

But now she was older. Zayn and Harry didn't seem intimidated by her in the slightest.

She found the hand-towel and was on her way back out when Nana came up beside her.

"Daisy, bonita, can you tell Harry that there are some weeds near my Foxgloves."

"Yes, Nana," Daisy nodded.

The older woman eyed her, a small debate in her eyes before she spoke again. "Bonita... your father called again last night while you were out."

The mention of her father was not something Daisy expected to hear on such a beautiful morning. She pursed her lips as her chest tightened. "Thank you for telling me, Nana, but I don't care. You know I need my space."

"Yes, I know," the woman nodded, clearly solemn. "I just wanted to let you know."

"Okay, well, I know. I'm going outside now."

She left Nana in the living room and made her way back to the porch. Her smile was difficult to find again, even when she laid eyes on the handsome boy among the flowers. The sandwiches were untouched, so she gently tossed the towel at Harry. He stumbled to grab it before the towel fell, and wiped his hands as clean as he could, before reaching for a cucumber cream cheese.