She | h.s

twelve

ii. the middle

"Your hair," I say awkwardly, breaking the silence as she fidgets with the napkins on the white table, the harsh overhead lighting in the shitty fast food restaurant making her hair shimmer.

"Hm?" she hums, looking into my eyes finally and I gulp.

"It's pink," I mutter, silently picking at my thumbs as I look back down at my lap. I feel her leg nudge mine, making me look back up to see her already staring at me.

"Hey, I'm glad you showed." She says, making me nod, my skin burning.

"Why did you ask me to come here?" I ask her as a waitress passes us with a large tray in hand, placing our food down and I thank her silently before she walks off with a smile.

"Wanted to see you, is that so bad?" she says, bringing a french fry to her lips before taking a bite. I don't do the same, instead I pick at my food in silence.

"You don't act like it," I tell her, making her frown. Finally, I take a bite out of my own french fries, awkwardly chewing as she searches for something to say to me.

"You know that's a lie, I always want to see you." Her voice is as smooth as honey as she speaks empty words.

"Why don't you then? You disappeared after that night and forced me to believe that you didn't care about me! Why am I—" I cut myself off, realizing that I've worked myself up again.

"Listen," She says, her voice is low and her piercing blue eyes burn holes into me. "I know I haven't been the best, but I really do miss you. Honest," she says, taking a sip from her milkshake.

"You're wonderful to talk to and you're lovely and smart and talented, I just can't get enough."

"I think you could, judging by the fact that you went radio silent for a bit..." I mutter out a petty remark and she sighs.

"Look, my parents aren't the best. I meant what I said at the party, I do... I d-"

"Please don't say it, not here. Especially not here," I whisper, shoulders tensing. She nods at me, clearing her throat and propping her arms up at the table.

"I really want to be around you again, but my parents are old fashioned. They don't like that stuff, so we have to keep this a secret," she says. Her hand brushes up against mine and I feel her intertwining our pinky's, my eyes flicker down to the scene below.

Her pale hand rests there, her fingers restlessly trying to connect with mine. I cant do this. It's not going to bring me any good. All I can think about is him, and I don't want to think anymore.

Yet why does it matter anymore?

Harry chose to cut me out for whatever reason that he did, and I didn't even know him that well. Here I am now, with the girl I suppose felt had fallen so deeply in love with, who had to leave for reasons I wasn't even sure of.

It's three in the morning and I'm having a bite to eat with her, what has my life come to?

I grab her hand, holding it slightly and I see her lips twitch into a smile before her eyes flicker to the door as the bell rings, signifying someone's entry. Suddenly, she drops my hand, simultaneously dropping my heart with it.

"Not here," she whispers lowly, "No one can know," she says, making me gulp with a small nod. I retract, pulling my hand back down to my lap under the table.

"Why aren't you transferring anymore?" I ask her, making her sigh before smiling slightly.

"I missed you," she says, less as a response to my question and more deflection.

"You didn't answer my question," I point out and she shrugs.

"What's been going on with you? Haven't heard stories from your life in a bit," she asks, changing the topic once again and I sigh.

"You would've known if you were in it," I counter with another petty remark and this time she sighs.

"Don't be like this, this has been good. Don't ruin it," she says, running her hand through her shiny pink hair and I sigh.

"Okay," I say as I begin to tell her little bits of my life that she had missed, trying my very hardest not to slip and ramble on about Harry.

####

"Sun's almost up," she says as we leave the little restaurant, the sky turning from a navy blue into a light blue of purples and turquoise, and even a little orange.

I nod at her words, picking at my fingers and the hem of my jacket. I don't know what to say anymore.

She smiles at me as we get to the end of the street, her black car parked nicely on the side of the road.

"This is me," she says, stopping at the car and leaning onto it and I just nod, knowing that this would mean another goodbye. I didn't want another goodbye. I wouldn't know when she'd want to do this again.

"Where's your car?" She asks, snapping me out of my panicked thoughts and I shrug.

"I walked here, it's just close by,"

Her expression pulls into a frown and I mirror it, confused on why she had that sort of reaction.

"You walked? Going here? At three in the morning, you walked across the dangerous streets of New York City?" She asks me, her tone worried and a tiny bit angry.

"We live in the suburbs, Rowe. It's safe here," I freeze at the use of her nickname, but she smiles up at me and shakes her head.

"True, but I cant risk it. Get in," She says, opening up the passengers door for me and I nod, silently getting in the car with her.

"You know where to drop me off?" I ask her as we pull into my neighbourhood, and she nods.

"I still remember it," She says, her hands focused on the wheel, glancing out the window every once in a while. Pulling up to my street, I sink into the seat knowing that this peaceful moment wouldn't last forever. The reality of seeing my house strengthening that feeling.

This is when the feeling sinks in.
I'm gonna be all alone again.

"We're here," she clears her throat, making me look directly into her eyes, almost pleading for her not to go.

"I don't want you to go," I state, feeling my throat close up in vulnerability.

"I know that,"

"Do you want to come in?" I ask, making her smile.

//

oh my gOD.
daisy is dumb #confirmed

how are we feeling so far..... the story is far from over..... and i already miss harry