Flower Girl | h.s.

43.

Daisy

My room missed the sound of Harry's voice, just as I did. The quiet didn't seem to sit right.

Harry had left me in the apartment, but knowing that I had to pick Lottie up meant that I had rearranged some of my evening to accommodate the times. I hadn't really expected to go back to Harry's house tonight, but something about it felt so normal-- it felt like we were running on a schedule that we were starting to fit together.

The kids start to become part of my responsibility if I want them to. Something about that felt... good, in the most simple sense.

After Harry had left, he had forwarded me over Lottie's cellphone number, telling me to tell her when I'd get her– he said in the message back to me, 'she will not give you a time, so be strict about when you will be there'.

I laughed to myself at the message, drafting my own to send to Lottie before saying that I'd pick her up in the next hour and for her to send me the address. Within only a few minutes, I had gotten the thumbs up along with an address that was relatively close.

A bit of a chuckle left me when I thought about the fact that she would have made that more difficult for Harry. Luckily, she left it pretty easy for me.

I had gone back to my chore of packing up my room– letting the photographs, the books, and some of the nightstand essentials into the boxes in front of me. Building the boxes was the most annoying part, considering they either fell in or weren't sturdy enough to hold the heavier items that I would pack.

After a bunch of expletives and three full boxes packed up to the brim, the time to get Lottie had come. 

I had changed out of my shorts and t-shirt and into a looser fitting pair of jeans, a pullover sweatshirt that I had stolen from Harry's car when we had gone grocery shopping a few weeks ago, and a pair of Converse to keep it casual.

The weather had started to get a bit warmer during the day, but in the evening, when the sun set, it was still cool and let a bit of a chill in the air. This meant that I was still having to dress in jeans and sweatshirts, which didn't seem to bother me in the slightest bit.

Grabbing my purse and keys, I told Cara and Lace that I would be back tomorrow at some point, grabbing a few items from my room to stay the night at Harry's– he kept a few things there, anyways. There were some socks and underwear that had definitely ended up in his dirty laundry by accident, which then ended up in a dresser drawer instead of back with me.

I felt that they belonged there; that felt more like a home.

Cara rolled her eyes, telling me that I was dating a liar-- jokingly, of course-- and Lace told me to remind Harry about the show next weekend. They needed him again, and I was certain that he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to play with them. The last time had gone so well, and this time, it was at a place that Brooks and Lottie would be able to attend. 

I knew that would be incredibly special for him to share.

Following down the stairs and to my car, the drive to Lottie's friend's house was only a few minutes from me. So, when I had arrived to the house, I just texted her to take her time and that I wasn't in a rush. Only a few minutes go by and I see Lottie emerging from the side door, her blonde hair taking over her shoulders as she walks to the car.

She gets in the passenger seat and I smile at her gently, the sunglasses rest on my nose, "Hey, Lots."

The smile on her face back is reciprocated as she buckles her seatbelt, "Hi."

Lottie is the kind of kid that I haven't exactly figured out. There's an innocence about her, but her curiosity reigns over her decisions most of the time. I can sense that she wants to do good, but she's trying so hard to make sense of what life is and needs to be able to identify that.