Mint [H.S.]

24

- PART 2 -

I Lost Her - Brighten

Come back to me baby... I will work to be a man, yes you will see. Yes, I will work to be your man.

HARRY

My legs were too long for the sofa, the blanket was too short for my body, and the sunlight was seeping through the thin curtains in the living room. To say that I was uncomfortable would be an understatement. The clock on my phone said that it was only half past 10 in the morning, but I was up for nearly three hours. I wasn't able to sleep. I don't think sleep was even a possibility when my mind was unable to fully shut down. All that I could think about was the woman that was sleeping in the bedroom merely a few metres away from me, and how she didn't want anything to do with me.

I had spent a greater portion of my night, when I knew that sleep would not be happening, generating some type of game plan to execute in the morning. I knew what I needed to do. I had repeated it time and time again... I had to tell Izzy the truth.

Telling the truth... it seemed so simple a task, but reality was, I didn't have the balls to do it. But I wanted to make it work. I promised to not only myself but to Dylan that I would. He was right - Franklin Maxwell had no say in my relationship with his daughter. She made me happy and I knew that at a time, I made her happy too. Of course, I had to go and fuck that all up, but I knew in my heart, at least, I hoped, that I could fix it.

Isabella was stubborn. She always had been. That was something I learnt the moment I met her, when she was smitten with a false relationship, and when she would refuse to talk to me after an argument... she always allowed her pride to get the better of her. But fuck, so did me. I prided myself in my pride, but, I knew that she does too. It was what broke and made our relationship. We were proud in the way that we loved one another, but at the same time, we were too proud to fix the fallen pieces I had made.

But I was tired... God, I was tired. I was tired of running away; I was tired of creating excuses for myself... I was just plain old tired. I was tired of missing her. I missed her even now, when I knew that she was in the same flat as me...

I miss her laugh. I miss her lips against my own. I miss her touch - the way her body felt against mine. I miss lying beside her and talking about books and life. I miss hearing her talk about the littlest things, like the older couple she holding hands at the park, or how she had the best latte that morning.

The plan that I had was simple. I wasn't one for elaborate gestures or over exaggerated confessions. I wanted to keep it easy and simple; I wanted to talk. I figured I'd make some coffee (because I know she's a sucker for a steaming cup of Joe in the morning), and hope that she will listen to me. I know that it was hoping for a lot. I know that the moment she saw that I was in her flat, she'd scream for me to leave. This time around, I wasn't going to leave. Fuck... I was so damn tired of leaving all the time. It came to the point where I was running away from everything and it's become nothing but lonely. I didn't want to feel lonely anymore. All I want to feel is her.

She deserves a real man, and I was willing to be that for her.

Amongst the boxes that filled the apartment (I guess Jaz was moving in with Ben), I was able to find two washed mugs and a bag of coffee.

"Shit-"I hissed as a glass smashed against the floor. Pieces of glass scatter across the kitchen, shards of glass just bypassing my foot. "Of fucking course..."

I carefully pick up the pieces and put them on the counter.

"Use a broom instead," A voice interrupts, causing me to jump in my place. I look up to see Isabella standing a metre away, her arms folded across her chest and a stoic expression across her face. "You'll hurt yourself if you use your hands."