Hollow (Harry Styles) #Wattys2016

Chapter 66

H.

I read the note with his handwriting, twice when Harry's throat clearing caught my attention before I began to read it for a third time. His long fingers delicately pulled the flower out of it's bed by it's stem. "It was dipped and crystallized to preserve it. It'll never dry out," he informed me, placing it in my hands.

It was heavier than I had expected. I let my fingers roam around, inspecting it. Every petal was stiff in place, frozen almost. Each one had a thin line of gold surrounding its edge. I stupidly tried to smell it, which surprisingly still had a faint scent of the flower, which Harry informed me, would wear off in time.

I took the note in my other hand, rereading the last line over again. He was promising to love me until this particular flower died. But, it couldn't. It was being preserved. It was never going to die. My head spun and my heart began to race at the realization of what his promise really meant.

"I'm never going to stop loving you," he confirmed my thoughts.

I looked at him oddly for a few moments, taking in everything that he was saying. It scared me, down to my core. He loved me, just as much as I knew I loved him, and it was too much. How was it possible to love someone in the way that we loved each other? It just didn't make sense, but it did in an strange way. I have never known a love like this, or ever thought I was deserving of such a thing. I lived the greater part of my life thinking I wasn't good enough and here was this man sitting directly in front of me, loving me and making me feel deserving to receive his love. He had been slowly erasing every insecurity I've ever had and I hadn't even noticed until now.

I placed the flower back in its space, moving the box off to the side, climbing on top of him, practically tackling him down to the bed. I wrapped my arms around his neck while his wrapped around my waist as he laughed a little at my actions. I interrupted his laugh by pressing my lips to his, kissing him feverishly.

"I love you and I'm never going to stop loving you either," I whimpered breathlessly against his lips before attaching them to mine again.

We kissed for a few more moments before Harry pulled away first. "Mm, as much as I want to keep making out with you and proclaim our undying love for each other, you still have the other half of the gift to look at," he smiled widely, sitting us both up, settling me onto his lap while he easily picked up the large, heavy box with one hand.

I took out the pictures from the other half of the box. They were a bunch of pictures that we had both taken of us along with a butt load of pictures of just me, which I found kind of weird. He must have noticed my reaction, because he rolled his eyes with a small chuckle, taking the pictures from me and flipping them over. Each one had a date on them and something written in black ink.

"I wrote down exactly what I was feeling in these moments," he spoke softly, wrapping his arms around me.

I read through them carefully. They all ranged from different emotions and moods. Some of them were cute, talking about how much he loved me and why he did at that particular moment, while others expressed how angry he was with me, but he still loved me. There were also some that described how sad he was and judging by the dates, it was around the times we were fighting with each other.

Every one of them were him expressing something that he normally found hard to say out loud. I felt like I was reading his journal, his most private part of himself. I tucked them all back into the box, deciding to read them all thoroughly another time, when I was alone and had time to fully revel in them.

Harry's POV

I watched her closely, trying to find what sort of reaction she was going to have to the pictures. Of course, I had gotten her other presents, purses and shoes and all the other junk Samara had suggested. Though, I had opted for something a little more her style rather than the "girly" things she hated. I got her some Vans and a light brown leather backpack that I thought she would like. But, they were just something she could open in front of everyone else.

My curiosity had gotten the best of me and I ended up looking up the meaning behind a lotus flower. I didn't really figure it out because I ended up stopping when I found a quote that perfectly described how I felt about Katarina, that's when I had decided to get her a bouquet every Sunday, and because it was the first actual flower I had given her. I had gotten the idea of preserving the flower from the florist after I had requested he keep a bouquet of white lotus's ready for every Sunday. He laughed at me, suggesting it would probably be cheaper to get her a plastic version. He had the right idea, but Katarina deserved something better than something so trivial. My first thought was to get her a charm bracelet and fill it with little charms, one of them being a lotus. But, that too, seemed very insignificant.

After hours of doing research, I had finally came across place that preserved flowers by crystallizing them. It was perfect for her. All I wanted to do was show her how much she meant to me and how much I loved her. Though I don't think I could ever find the words or actions perfect enough to show her.

I knew she was getting scared, but I was too. My heart was pounding so hard, threatening to burst out of my chest, but I tried to keep as calm as possible. There couldn't be two of us freaking out.

"What do you think? Do you like your gift?" I pressed, not being able to take her silence anymore.

She closed the box, tracing the carving on the box, that I had done myself as a homage to the times we had carved our names in the trees at her grandparents houses not so long ago. "I um," she furrowed her brows, trying to think of the right words. "No one has ever expressed themselves like you." Her hands came up to cup my face, rubbing her thumbs over my cheeks. "I don't think I've ever experienced a love like this, and I don't think I ever will, Harry. And that honestly scares me deep, deep down," she confessed, leaning her forehead on mine as she finished.

I pulled her further into me, rubbing her back, hoping it would calm her. I rubbed my nose against hers a few times, letting her breathing adjust a little. "It scares me too," I admitted. "But, I'm willing to face my fears with you."

She nodded frantically, like a small child. And that she was. A little girl who was afraid because of the cruel world she's had to live in. I knew she was strong, she has been through the wringer her whole life, having her soul crushed so many times, but she was still here, as beautiful as ever and trying her hardest to be happy. But, she also, still carried the scars from everything she's been through. On the outside as well as on the inside. She needed to be protected and nurtured, she needed someone who would stand by her no matter what. Not because she was helpless and defenseless, but because she deserved someone to love her enough to be that person for her. Someone who would be willing to fight for and beside her.

Our silent moment was interrupted by heavy knocks from my siblings, telling us to come back down so we could have breakfast. Reluctantly, we both pulled apart from each other, crawling out of bed and heading to the kitchen hand in hand. I knew she wasn't going anywhere, but just in case she decided to bolt, I had a firm grip on her.