Evergreen [h.s]

Chapter 6 - Different Hues of Blue

Harry Styles
May 12, 2023

"I would like that," she whispers with a slow nod of her head against my finger, looking like the most delicate, beautiful being I've ever laid my eyes on.

"Tonight?" she asks.

I nod in response with what I'm sure looks like a cocky grin on my cheeks, but I just can't help myself around her. She makes me feel things I've never felt before.

I let my finger trace down the side of her neck, noticing small goosebumps form against her soft skin, trailing it over the bend of her shoulder and down the length of her slim arm to my final destination.

I let my fingers lock in between hers, feeling the warmest I've felt since she last let go. I look into her eyes while seeing the softest of shy smiles encapsulating her pouty lips.

I can see the ocean through her deep blue eyes, but I can also see the moon on a gloomy night. I can see the prettiest of blue skies on the warmest of sunny days, but I can also see the stormiest of hazy nights.

She's battling something in that pretty little head of hers. I think she doesn't know that I can tell, but I can.

I guess hurt recognizes hurt.

All of the little mannerisms she does to hide her anxiety, or her little ferocious thumb that never stops tapping against something, or the way she speaks about herself, or her unwillingness to let people do nice things for her... They all point to one simple thing.

Someone hurt her. And I'll be damned if I ever let whatever or whoever it was, do it again.

I'm pulled from my thoughts by the squeeze of her hand in my own, realizing that I've been staring at her for an obnoxiously long time.

"How about you go get changed into something a bit warmer and then we can head over to my place. Sound good?" I suggest, maintaining my hold on her fragile hand.

"Sounds good." She pulls me with her, not wanting to let go of me either. Once we're near her bedroom door she unlaces her fingers from my own. "Be right back."

And with that, she scurries into her bedroom and shuts the door, leaving me lonely.

I walk further into her living room and take in some of the decorum she's chosen to decorate her home with. The wall above her orange couch is covered in pictures, but none that she is in. They're all of people I assume that are her friends or family, one particular girl being on the wall more times than any others. Her sister? There's a boy that appears in quite a few as well, and from what I can tell he seems to have some sort of disability. Her brother? I notice numerous quotes mixed in with the collage of photos, two sticking out to me above all the others.

'We are all born so beautiful. The greatest tragedy is being convinced we're not.'
Rupi Kaur

'I am homesick for a place I am not sure even exists.
One where my heart is full.
My body loved.
And my soul understood.'
Melissa Cox

I almost feel as if I am intruding by reading such vulnerable pieces of literature that Apricity has somehow linked to herself.

She really doesn't know how beautiful she is, does she? Who convinced her she wasn't? Why doesn't she feel understood?

I guess that last one is a silly question because at times, neither do I.

I've always been able to read people. I can tell when my managers are trying to screw me over with a deal, or when my family and friends just happen to want to spend time with me but really, they're just worried about me. I've never been more grateful for that trait than now. Apricity probably has no clue that I can see beneath the facade she's wearing.