Speak |h.s. a.u.|

Chapter 58

Small trigger warning.

Annabelle sat her purse beside her bed, on the floor, and stripped out of her lilac shirt that had the flower shop's name on it. She stood in her bra, searching for an old t-shirt, finally finding the one she was looking for. It was Harry's black t-shirt he'd left in her room a while back to help her sleep. She wasn't necessarily mourning anymore, but she definitely wasn't over him. Wearing his shirt made her feel like she still had a part of him around, and that was better than having every piece of him stripped completely from her life.

Annabelle looked down, realizing there were a pile of flowers on her bed. Confused, she picked up a rose, sniffing it and seeing a note beside the flowers. She laid the flower down, picking up the note and taking a deep breath. She wasn't sure if she should read it or not, what if it was just a joke? It had to be from Harry, didn't it? Who else would leave her flowers? Annabelle opened the folded paper, thinking it would just be a cheesy line to try to score her back, but it was so much more than that.

Dear Annabelle,
I understand you're in a lot of pain right now, most of it being caused by my stupid, harsh actions a week ago. I just wanted to give you these flowers. I picked them from my mum's garden when I was drunk the other night, I know I sent you a few stupid texts. I didn't mean to do that, I promise. It wasn't what I intended to do, I intended to leave you alone forever. I don't deserve someone as lovely as you, I know I don't, but Annabelle, I can't live without you. I sound crazy right now, don't I? It's only been almost five months... But I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my life. I've never been in love before. There has never been a girl to come along and make me want to spend every second with them, there has never been a girl that drove me completely insane just by breathing. You're beautiful, you're funny, you're so smart, Annabelle. I hate that I made you close yourself up again. You were making such amazing progress with me, you fucking talked to me, you shared such an intimate moment with me, and I wrecked it all in a matter of minutes. I hate myself more than you know for my actions towards you. I'm sorry.
You don't have to talk to me- text me or anything. I know it will take more than a few flowers and a letter to make you love me again. I promise I'll work hard to make you love me again and want to be with me again. You mean the world to me.
Please don't hurt yourself. Don't be sad, please, Annabelle, don't cry over me. I'm really not worth it. Don't spend all of your free time in the dark, go outside and take a walk. Do something that will make you happy and get over what I've done. I'll make it up to you, I promise.
You made me fall in love with you, Annabelle, you're not getting away so easily. I love you, remember?
-H.xx

Annabelle's eyes were filled with tears, and she quickly wiped them away, not letting them fall. She cried over everything, she wouldn't cry over a stupid note that was probably just a bundle of lies. Doubt had constantly filled Annabelle's mind when it came to Harry. He didn't mean anything he'd ever said, or at least that's what she thought. So she crumpled up the note and stuck in a drawer in her nightstand, slamming it shut and walking into her bathroom to do what she'd been itching to do all day.

The next day, Anne was back at her house. She'd been there a lot lately, after Annabelle's parents were home from work. Harry hadn't joined her like he usually did, though.

"How was the trip to London?" Julie asked Anne as everyone sat at the dinner table. Annabelle kept her head down.

"Erm," Anne looked at Annabelle, "Great?" Annabelle nodded. "Great!"

"That's good." Julie sipped her water.

"Did Harry try any smooth moves on Annabelle?" Dave asked, making Annabelle look back down. Just the mention of his name made her want to crawl back to her dark room.

"No, no," Anne quickly shook her head, but kept her eyes on Annabelle. Did he try to pull any smooth moves on her?

"I don't know," Julie spoke. "He seems to be quite fond of her. Are you sure he isn't secretly in love with her, or something?" Julie laughed, thinking her joke were hilarious. Annabelle thought the opposite, knowing her mother were just trying to mock her. Annabelle stood up, rolling her eyes, and walked out of the kitchen.

"Well," Dave sighed.

"Must've hit a touchy spot." Julie's laugh was lighter than before. You have no idea, Anne thought. "Knowing anything, she's probably drooling over him." Julie added.

"Maybe they had real feelings for each other." Anne said, shrugging to make it seem like she didn't know anything. Dave and Julie laughed.

"Poor thing," Julie shook her head. "She'll never get the chance at love."

"And why's that?" Anne snapped, setting her fork down.

"She doesn't even talk, Anne." Julie's smile was still evident, but it had turned into a bitter one.

"That doesn't matter." Defending Annabelle seemed important to Anne, for whatever reason.

"What, you think Harry, or any boy for that matter, could ever fall in love with her?" Julie shot back.

"Maybe." Anne shrugged, still trying to play innocent. Julie let the subject go after that, realizing it were totally pointless anyway.

Annabelle sat in her room, one of the roses being slowly twirled between her fingers. Images of Harry played through her mind, he were all she could ever think about. She hated it. She just wanted him to get out of her head and leave her alone. He consumed every second she had, and she couldn't stand it.

A knock sounded from her door, and a moment later, Anne walked in with a small smile on her face. She noticed the dim lighting and the small candle burning on Annabelle's dresser.

"Hi, sweetie." Anne greeted, sitting on the edge of her bed. Annabelle lightly smiled at her. Even though she is Harry's mother, Annabelle still loved her. Anne was so kind and gentle, so comforting and lovable. "Are you working next week, on Friday?" Annabelle shook her head no, a questioning look on her face. "I was just wondering." Anne patted Annabelle's knee.

"I love your room." Harry's mother spoke after a few moments of silence. "Did you do all of this yourself?" She looked around, seeing the beautifully painted walls and noticing the large, black silhouettes of Peter Pan and Hook painted on one wall. Annabelle's smiled, how ironic. She shook her head no again, running her fingers through the ends of her curly hair.

"Oh," Anne took the hint, shutting her mouth quickly. "Well, I'll get going, just wanted to check in on you." Anne leaned over, giving Annabelle a hug. "See you soon, darling."