Speak |h.s. a.u.|

Chapter 66

"Who is this looker?" Marie, the older woman Annabelle worked with, joked, nudging Annabelle's side with her elbow. Annabelle grinned at the ground, peeking up to see Harry's tall frame in front of the counter.

"I could say the same to you," Harry leaned over the counter and winked at Marie. Even though she were in her late fifties, she still blushed and giggled, pushing Harry's shoulder slightly. Annabelle walked around the counter after putting all of the money she made in the cash register. People often came into the store just to buy one of Annabelle's bouquets, telling her to keep up the fine work.

Harry put his arm over Annabelle's shoulder as Marie held a conversation with him, both of them discussing how they grew up in Chesire. Annabelle was focused on two people that stood in the middle of an aisle near them, trying to whisper, but failing tremendously.

"She's the one who doesn't speak." One of the women pointed at Annabelle, trying to be sneaky.

"Is she mute?" The other one asked, turning to look at Annabelle.

"I hear she's just messed up in the head," the woman used her finger to make swirls in the air near her head, "If you know what I mean." Both women snickered. 

"Excuse me," Harry's voice almost boomed as he looked over at the cackling women. "Please don't talk about my girlfriend that way. Thank you." Harry then returned to his conversation with Marie, pulling Annabelle closer to him.

A few moments later, the women approached the counter with two sets of flowers, asking Marie who made such wonderful bouquets.

"Did you make these, Marie?" The brown-haired lady asked in awe. Marie shook her head and pointed to Annabelle with a sly grin. Annabelle gave them a soft smile, raising her eyebrows.

"Well," the lady sighed, turning back around and paying for the set of flowers.

"Miss," Harry followed the women outside, leaving Annabelle in the shoppe with Marie. "How do you know about Annabelle?" Harry crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's a small town, boy, word gets around quick." The second lady stood silently behind the woman with brown hair.

"What word? Where did you hear it from?" Harry looked at the woman's shirt, seeing a small name tag that said Leigh, a small symbol of the local bank above it. "You work with Julie." Harry stated, looking back up at the woman. 

"You know Julie? Oh, isn't she great?" Leigh smiled, putting her hands on her hips. Harry figured this lady were just as bad as Julie, if she liked her so much.

"Right, so does Julie just talk about Annabelle behind her back all of the time?" Then Harry heard a bell and turned around to see Annabelle standing behind him, a small frown on her face.

"Not that it's any of your business, but she's mentioned a few things here and there." The ladies hid their obnoxious giggles behind their hands.

Harry huffed and reach behind him to grab Annabelle's hand, pulling her away from the ladies and towards his car. He stopped walking and she put her hand on the handle of the passenger door, but was stopped by Harry turning her body around and pressing her back against the shiny black metal. His lips found hers immediately, both of them sighing into the kiss and feeling all stress and worry leave their bodies.

Harry's right hand supported him as it pressed against the car above Annabelle's head, his other hand on her hip. Her hands gently moved up and down his chest as their lips worked against each other, both of them losing breath with each passing second. They ended up breaking this kiss at the same time and slowly opening their eyes to look at each other. They took their time, their eyes roaming from their red lips to their noses, eyes, cheeks, foreheads, and every little mark on their faces. Harry found Annabelle's many freckles so cute, and Annabelle found Harry's stubble adorable. She loved how he couldn't really grow a beard, so he always shaved, but sometimes letting stubble take over his chin.