The Kindness Of A Sunflower (h.s)

thirty

november 18th, 2021

paige

"Okay you have to be careful while they dry."

I fan my hand above Harry's to try and speed up the drying process. He holds his hands out to admire his freshly painted nails with a grin growing on his face.

"I love them. They look great," he says looking at me with a boyish smile.

"Can I do yours?" he asks with excitement clear in his voice.

I smile at him.

He truly was an angel. He always got excited over the small things and it filled my heart with joy. He would get all giddy over the idea of painting my nails to match his or to just take a nap together. He would get all shy and proud when he saw that something he did made me happy, like giving me a flower he found or when I liked the food he would make me. His smile would grow and his cheeks would turn a light shade of pink and he would ruffle his hair and avoid all eye contact. Looking at him now, with excitement and pure happiness etched on to every inch of his face, made me smile even bigger.

"Of course," I say, as his smile widens and he grabs the two bottles that were sitting closed on my bed next to my leg.

He takes my hand and lays it gently on his knee and then proceeds to shake the bottles and begins to twist off the cap of the green.

That color had taken me forever to find. It was so difficult to find a shade of green that did look sickly or like vomit but I had finally done it. I had alternated his nails, the nice fern green and a light lilac color, which he was now copying on me. With his brows furrowed and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip in concentration, he strokes the brush over my nail covering the surface to match his own.

I feel like I can never not be smiling when I am around him. His energy was just always positive and infectious. He has been amazing over the past few days. For the two days after the Dean incident, we stayed home cuddled up in my bed in sweats watching Gilmore Girls and only getting up to go to the bathroom or get some food from the kitchen downstairs. He gave me the time I had needed to recover fully and never pressured me to talk about anything I didn't want to or wasn't comfortable with. He was just there for me in every way I needed him.

He would wake me up with his lips gently feathering over my face and a cup of coffee sitting on the table next to us. He would lull me into blissful sleep by rubbing circles into my back and holding me against him. Just by being him, he was able to help me.

After those two days, we went walking around town a bit and I showed him the spots I would go to to read or write or just hang out.

He already has been to my spot in the woods. Not really in the way I was planning on showing him but it's fine. We went out to lunch a few times at the little cafes in town and I took him to a vintage thrift store that he loved. He picked out some pretty cool finds. He got a jacket and a few pairs of flare trousers as well as a few funky button ups, which I reminded him I would also be wearing.

I also showed him the local book store and we had found a few books that had looked interesting and perched ourselves in the little window nook in the back corner to read for an hour or two. Harry had found one of his favorites and told me I needed to read it.

He was leaned against the wall and I against his chest between his legs. He had wrapped his one arm around my stomach and held the book up with the other on his propped up knee.

I think that was my favorite memory so far.

It was peaceful.

Only a few other customers had come in but we were in the back and they had all been older couples. There had been a soft variety of Paul Simmon and Adele in the background and other than it had been a comfortable silence.