Harry.
Harry was his name. The name sounded familiar. VERY familiar.
It was the one name that had failed to escape my mind from the moment he came along and completely enchanted me.
Basically the moment we met.
"My name is Harry by the way. It's very nice to meet you" He introduced politely, while kindly extending his hand for me to shake it.
I looked at his hand for a moment, nervously biting down on my bottom lip while questioning whether I should exchange information with this stranger. I had already told him most of my personal life story, so it didn't seem like much of a problem at the time, but a part of me thought it was safest not to. I shook his hand while flashing him the friendliest smile I could muster.
"Lavender, and it's nice to meet you as well. Thank you for everything by the way. I feel much better." I partly lied. It was true, I was VERY grateful and thankful to have Harry comfort me, however I wasn't sure if I trusted him enough to tell him my real name just yet. After all, I didn't know him that well. Better safe than sorry.
When I originally came here to the lake, I didn't and especially not in a million years imagine it would end up like this. I expected it to be just me and nature enjoying eachothers company, like it usually was. Just me and the tranquil waters. The tree's that swayed with the wind and the rustling leaves that were always heard but never seen, as I would wait for the encompassing darkness to envelope the world out of the faintest light.
But no, it was far from just that.
Along the way I met Harry. Harry was a gorgeous boy, there was no doubt about that. But there were things about him that I didn't notice from the beginning. There was so much more to him. His beauty was just the Christmas wrapping of a wonderful present. The present inside holds so much more value than the wrapping it's covered with, and that's exactly how it was like with Harry. Although he was definetly an attractive young fellow, his personality spoke so much more about him.
Harry was a sweet boy who had a big heart. He was the type of boy who had a little modern yet old school gentleman inside of him. The type of guy that would show respect for you and your morals. The type of guy that would gladly open the door for you. The type of guy that would offer you his jacket and insist you take it, even when you refuse because of how cold it would be for him. Most importantly, he was the type of guy that would be able to put a smile on your face no matter how sad you were.
It was something that I deeply admired about him. Talking to him, it made me forget all my worries. Almost like they didn't even exist anymore, it was just me and him, nothing else mattered. He made me forget the fact that I was hurting. He made me forget my past life as an orphan.
Growing up in an orphanage, my life was always hard. You couldn't rely on anybody. You had to rely on hope and your very own faith. The type of faith that will help carry you into the loving arms of another family. I grew up alone in the orphanage, never talked to anybody, and only managed to make one friend whom till today I have no clue about. I grew up completely isolated from life itself. Almost like I never was even alive untill the minute I stepped foot out of the orphanage. I remember those lonely nights, when I would snuggle under my worn out blanket and shut my eyes hoping that I would drift away into another world. The nights where I would cry myself to sleep, my head ready to explode from the questions that constantly raced through my mind.
Where are my parents?
Why am I here?
Where's mommy and daddy and little brother?
The questions that I was still boundlessly haunted with till today. Yet still no answers.
My daily routine at the orphanage was pretty simple. It would always consist of me sitting and staring at nothing drowning in the faint sunlight that poured through the window above my tiny and rather uncomfortable bed. I would remember looking at the view from the window nearby and seeing that it was nothing very special or out of the ordinary, just the playground where the children fooled around, where the tulips grew and the birds sang. I would occasionally look outside it and imagine myself as one of those birds that flew about freely.
freedom.
The one thing that I had been craving from the moment I entered the orphanage. The orphanage was far from welcoming. You felt trapped. The dungon type of trapped. It felt nothing like home, although I'm not even sure of what "home" is anymore. The whole orphanage compound was surrounded by a high fence to keep any strangers out. That also included the large rusty iron entry gates which made an unpleasant creaking noise everytime they were touched in the slightest way. The orphanage was placed in the middle of no where, where there wasn't much sunshine either. Just the spooky and lifeless tree's that never grew leaves. The shingles were old, eaten up and looked like they could slowly collapse with one touch. And just to make the whole description worse, the gray bricks which formed this prison-like structure were chipped, boring and bland.
My past life was nothing but torture, but today being with Harry, it made me feel like I had broken the chains. Like I was finally free.
After having spilt out a diary full emotions to Harry, we finally got around to having a normal conversation. We decided to walk up and down the shoreline, our feet dragging through the sand, it's grains getting the pleasure of softly stroking the soles of our feets. The spring air breezing through my hair and clothes as we kept walking without destination. As I walked with Harry, I felt like all the problems that I had to face before suddenly disappeared. I forgot about everything. It was one of those moments that you would never want to end.
"Favourite colour? He quizzed finally breaking the ice by starting a decent yet random conversation. I quickly shook my head to elminate all my thoughts allowing myself to focus on Harry. He looked at me expectantly as I took a minute to speculate.
"That would be white." I answered as I watched his eyes grow wide in suprise. It was true, my favourite colour had always been white. Some people found the colour simply plain and boring, but to me it was much more than just a colour. It represented serenity, peace and freedom. The three things I yearned the most.
"Wow that's quite suprising, I thought it would be lavender" He joked, while letting out another one of his contagious laughs. I watched as his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way his face lit up as his soul was abandonned to the joyfulness of the situation. I couldn't help but chuckle myself.
"Oh, how very clever of you." I laughed, punching him playfully on the shoulder while rolling my eyes sarcastically. He turned to face me, grinning widely as he delicately brushed one of his perfect curls out of his face before opening his mouth to speak once again.
"Your turn." He beamed, his eyes full of excitement and anticipation for what I was about to ask.
"Hmm..." I mumbled, as I thought out loud to myself. There was one question that I knew I wanted to ask him. One that was immensely bothering me, but I didn't dare ask, scared of the reaction I would probably get in return. I turned my neck to face him as I finally thought up of an acceptable question.
"Any special talents?" I inquired while cocking an eyebrow intriguingly.
I might not have expected the answer that Harry had given me, however, I knew mine right away.
Poetry.
I had always been a writer, which was a talent I had most likely inherited from my mother. My father, he was more of the musical type. The one that you would see busking on the streets, while strumming a tune on his old acoustic guitar. He used to sing and play the guitar to try and make me and my brother fall asleep when we were younger. His music was magical. It had this positive control over you. It made me feel calm and relaxed to fall asleep on my dads lap as I would be entranced to the sweet sound of his voice. There was just something about it that made you feel warm and comforted.
Safe and sound.
It just flowed like a river.
I missed my dad and his voice. Not just his singing voice, but the voice that I used to wake up to every morning.
I waited for Harry's answer, the same way I was still waiting for my parents who I longed for to scoop me up in their arms and shower me with hugs and kisses. I was expecting the typical obnoxious male answer. You know, something like gaming or sleeping and eating. But I was pretty blown away by his staggering response.
"I enjoy singing." He answered back as he nonchalantly dug his hands into his faded jean pockets.
My eyes narrowed in amazement while attempting to choke out a reply in return. "Wow...that's really impressive." I said while nodding to show my utmost approval. I grinned at him as soon as he turned his attention towards me, a big smile tugging at his lips his eyes glowing as they cascaded across my face in amusement.
"So...what about you? Any special talents?"
"I write poetry."
He nodded at me imposingly while this time sinking his hands deeper into his pockets."A poetic girl. Not too bad. It's hard to find girls nowadays who appreciate the art of poetry. Quite rare." He commented, an obvious smile toying at his lips.
I returned a weak smile in his direction, not sure if what he said was supposed to be a compliment exactly. When you're walking with someone as alluring as Harry, you seem to forget everything around you. People, time, events. Almost like they are non-existant. Like your past troubles never even happened. Walking with Harry for what was really an hour now, seemed like only 10 minutes.
I was in every way possible, enthralled.
Completely spellbound.
"We've been walking for a while now, maybe we should sit down for a bit." Harry suggested hastily while wiping the newly formed sweat that appeared on his brow. He was right, we had been walking for quite a while and the sun's heat was getting more powerful as time progressed. I nodded correspondingly in return, as we proceeded to stroll down towards our new preferable spot. We ended up sitting under a nearby shady tree, its branches twisted and mangled forming all kinds of perplexing shapes, yet it's graceful leaves adding a touch of life to this mesmeric craft of nature. I quietly sat down, admiring nature's beauty, one of my many inspiration's when it came to my poetic writing pieces.The tree had provided us with a sufficent amount of shade, enough to shield us from the deadly and rather humid weather. Harry calmly sat along side of me, positioning himself as he crossed his legs turning his full attention towards me.
Without warning, I got this sudden urge, or maybe it was some sort of boost in confidence. The words just fell out of my mouth without intention. I didn't want to ask. I was scared of me asking resulting in another gloomy and pessimistic outcome like the one I had before. But a part of me wanted to know, almost like a supernatural force had somehow managed to move my lips and force the unwanted question to be spoken. To be finally liberated.
Smiling dubiously I said " Harry, if you don't mind me asking...what brings you here? I mean, I don't see people come here often. You did say you came here to think, so what is it you came for? "
He was silent. Too silent. His face dropped, his dazzling smile wiped off his face as his eyes flickered with averseness. Just then I felt like scolding myself. I knew I shouldn't have touched this subject. Just when things between me and Harry were going smoothly, I had to ruin it by asking another one of my needless and uncalled for questions.
He paused before frowning with displeasure. "My mom told me the truth about my sister."
He was upset, I could tell by the way he carried himself. By the way he spoke and acted. Usually it was always me who was the one that was down in the dumps and needed a shoulder to cry on. Someone to support me. But not this time. This time, someone else needed me.
"M-my sister passed away when I was younger. My mother only told me today. She kept it a secret for that long." He stammered uncomfortably, as he promptly looked away from me making my heart sink deeper than the Titanic. I felt bad, like I was forcing this personal answer out of his mouth the same way the question was itself. I felt like punishing myself. At that point I knew I had made a grave mistake. One I would regret.
"Harry, I'm so sorry. Please you don't have to tell me anything." I pleaded understandingly, his eyes which were probably brimming with sorrow from this awful recollection did not dare to meet mine. Even if they did, I for sure would have never found the strength to look into them.
He leaned his head back comfortably against the tree staring in a concentrating manner. He looked completely washed out. Completely out of it. I observed as he deliberately turned his neck to face me, which was enough to make my heart shatter.
He was crying.
It crushed me. Although I couldn't help but feel pleased over one thing. Harry wasn't afraid of being himself. Usually boys carried this tough attitude around. Even when something would be killing them on the inside, they never let their emotions take control. They remained strong and solid. Like a rock. Nevertheless, Harry was different. He wasn't afraid to show how he really felt. He actually trusted me with something so precious and serious to him. I hated myself. I hated myself for thinking positvely in such a negative situation. Harry was grief-stricken, and here I was admiring how Harry was actually crying before my very eyes.
The second the single drop of grief was released, he rose his thin slender fingers and spotted the target that was dripping slowly down his cheeks. His eyes were speaking to me. They were screaming for support and comfort with each translucent drop of emotions, and before I knew it he was forming puddles of despair. Harry was broken, inside and out, and I didn't know what to do. I was too shocked.
"You shouldn't be sorry." He sobbed, while shaking his head in disagreement. His eyes which were now glistening with tears were casted upon my face making me weak in every way possible.
When I looked into his eyes at that moment, I felt something. A connection, a familiar connection. Almost like whenever I looked into his eyes, I felt like I was looking into someone else's, someone I've known for such a long time.
And it wasn't just my reflection.
"No Harry, it was none of my business to ask. I didn't mean to make you upset please st-"
I was cut off by Harry's strong arms, which without warning flung desperately around my waist firmly wrapping me in a warm yet gentle embrace. His chin leaning on my shoulder for support the sound of his faint sobs clearly distinct making me crumble on the inside. I was taken aback by this sudden action, yet I hugged him back, my compassionate heart bursting at his awful state and touch. The hug was perfect and comforting in so many ways, but the moment was far from perfection. The hug, was the type that would be able to bond two souls together. One that made you feel close and secure. I closed my eye's listening attentively to Harry's increasing heart beat rebounding against my body.
"All this time, I've been asking myself where my sister was ever since she disappeared from my childhood." He started his voice trembling, his chin moving against my shoulder as he spoke. I didn't want to let go and have to face him. I just clung on to his t-shirt, listening to every sound and every word that made it's way out of his mouth. After his melt down, Harry had made it evident that all he wanted was for someone to shut up and listen to him. To lessen away his pain.
And that's all that I was willing to do.
Just listen.
Care for his problems the same way he cared for mine.
"When she told me, I was shocked. It was unexpected. I didn't want to believe it, so I don't. No matter how much my mom tries to convince me by saying that she isn't alive, I will refuse to believe her. I feel like she's out there. Like she's alive. I feel her presence and I'm not giving up on my heart just yet. I just needed to think. I needed to find a quiet place, so I noticed this lake and thought it would be the perfect place."
"I know how you feel." I answered my lips moving against his shoulder, my voice coming out lower than a whisper as it loathed with empathy and understanding. It felt like we were in the same position for hours, as I attempted to count the countless tear drops that trickled down his rosy cheeks.
I meant exactly what I said. I knew how Harry felt and I wanted him to be aware of that. The feeling of missing someone so much. Of wanting someone to just understand the way you felt for once. I was glad that I could be that person for Harry. That person that would be able to take away his pain. We connected emotionally.
We both had our different problems.
But the similar aspect to this all, is that we were both trying to find a way to run away from them.
We were both looking to escape our problems, yet instead it lead us to something much bigger.
Something much more important.
Eachother.
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AUTHORS NOTE -
I hope you guys liked part three ! I just wanted to take the time to seriously thank ALL my readers and especially my fans <3 Love you guys sosososo much ! Please leave a comment or something I would greatly appreciate it :)
So what do you think of Rose lying to Harry about her name? What do you think about Harry and Rose's connection.
I love how they support eachother.
xoxoxo.