chapter 29.

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°°
There are shadows in my dreams
Storms that send me out to reach
And you just wait on my defeat
So I built an army underneath
And now they got me while I sleep
And this worn-out frame will carry me
°°

Harry Styles

She looks like the sun today. All happy and smiley, despite the fact she actually hasn't smiled at me but she's just radiating happiness today, I'm glad. Her hair looks nice today, it's different but it's nice. I like her outfit too, she looks like a modern day hippy and it's so fucking cool.

Help me.

Note to self; do not call a girl hangry, because Harlows been sat with her arms crossed and a pout on her face for the past five minutes.

So I decided to pull out the David Bowie, remembering that time she drove me home when I was drunk. She hated me then, she probably hates me now but at least now she hates me and kisses me. She wouldn't have even pictured it then.

"Didn't know what time it was, the lights were low, I leaned back on my radio..."

...and yet no smile. David Bowie you have failed me.

She really doesn't give anything away huh?

How about some 'Daydream believer'? After all, that's where she thinks her nickname comes from. 'Oh, I could hide beneath the wings of the bluebird as she sings...' is where she thinks 'birdy' has come from. She'll find out one day why she's birdy, one day when I find the balls to tell her everything.

But for now, birdy has come from 'daydream believer' and maybe 'free as a bird' by the Beatles since she's a little modern day hippy.

My modern day hippy.

Stop it. Stop.

"Cheer up sleepy Jean..." I jokingly sing, looking at Harlow who was biting back a smile. "Oh what can it mean, to a...sing it with me birdy."

"Nope-"

"Daydream believer and a homecoming queen," I sing loudly, watching her struggle immensely to hold back that giggle she does when she doesn't know what to say or do.

The dimple on her cheek that only appears when she smiles is something I never knew I'd find so beautiful. Today she's like a ray of sunshine, not a sad grey cloud and her energy seems to rub off on everyone and everything around her.

We walked into this little cafe on the outskirts of town and it was full of old people. I thought to myself, 'great' but Harlow somehow had all of them smiling at her. She's such a people pleaser, she's such a sweetheart and I don't know how she can be bothered being nice to people all the time. For all she knows that woman could've been a serial killer and Harlow just said hi to her like they were friends.

I always knew there was a happy soul behind the fog I like to call mental illness. It's temporary, just like fog. What lies behind it might be difficult to see, but it's still there. It's just fog.

"Two bacon sandwiches." I shout over the counter to the lady in the red apron, immediately Harlows eyes look at me in disgust.

She's really gonna penalise me for not using my manners?

"Please," I correct myself, smiling with sarcasm and pride but still Harlow was staring at me like I'm the devil.

She's not wrong.

"What? I was nice? You're-"

"No, Harry I can't eat bacon." She whispers frustratedly, almost like she's embarrassed for the lady behind the counter to hear her.

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