Where Your Heart Is (A Harry Styles Fanfiction) #pfcc2k16 #Wattys2016

Chapter Four: ~Olivia~

And time is irrelevant when I've not been seeing ya.

*****

I don't really know what to do because I haven't been in a situation like this before, at least not in the last five years of my life.

Don't get me wrong, is not that I don't find it incredibly refreshing, but nevertheless, it is rather confusing.

I never thought, in a million years, that I would ever find myself wishing to be recognized by someone so badly. And it's not like all of the flashes have gone up to my head or anything like that, but I find it quite impossible that she doesn't remember who I am.

Not because I am famous and I think people should identify my face or know my name at the drop of a hat, but because we have met before. We've actually shared a conversation, as brief as it was, and we sort of introduced ourselves to one another.

So, after going through a great deal of possible explanations as to why she is being so forgetful or unaware of who I am, the only one that strikes me as entirely plausible is that she is simply pretending no to remember me.

Of course, the first scenario I came up with, I quickly discarded. Because I was –and I still am– one hundred percent sure that I am not mistaking her with someone else.

She is the flower girl, and there is absolutely no way I could possibly be wrong about that. Those blue eyes that fixed on me a few minutes ago at the sidewalk were definitely the same ones I met almost two years ago. The ginger of her curls, though they are considerably shorter than when I wrapped one of them around my finger, are the same color of fire; and even though she didn't smile at me once during our elevator ride, I am sure that if she had, she would have astonished me just like she did back then.

I can count all the times I wanted to say something to make her remember me, or rather force her to stop acting as if she didn't already.

When she appeared right in front of my eyes and seemed to be frozen for a short while; when she turned on her heels and disappeared just as fast as she came; when I saw her running towards the elevator and jumping inside like a small, elusive fox; and every single second that ticked off the clock as we were going up, alone and in silence.

But I held my tongue, and only God knows how hard. Because if she was going so out of her way to keep up the charade, I can only assume she did it for a very personal reason.

Maybe she was embarrassed, even if she definitely shouldn't have been. Maybe she was afraid to say something and discover that I was, in fact, the one who had expelled her from my memory.

If that's was case, I now think to myself, then I should have definitely said something to her. But then again, how can she possibly think that she can be so easily forgotten, when as a matter of fact, she is quite the opposite?

Right after my mother's wedding was over, all those months ago, I spent the rest of the weekend wondering around town and asking about the red headed girl who worked as a florist. She mentioned she was from the area so I asked all over Congleton, and even back home.

But when time began to pass, and I just kept coming out empty handed, I finally gave up. And I was left with no other choice but to go back to my hectic schedule, reluctantly locking her deep in my mind, along with the rest of the things I would have time to be regretful about later in life.

But fortune has worked on my favor, two years later, granting me a month to pick whatever it was that we left off, right where we left it.

All I have to do, now that I have her name, is refresh her memory.

"Oi! Are you listening to what I am saying, mate?" Louis's voice breaks through my thoughts and I turn my head away from the giant window I have been blindly staring at.

"Uhm..." I shake my head a few times in order to throw myself back to the present before speaking up. "Sorry, what?"

He walks into my room, closing the door behind him and taking a long look around. This is not the first time we have been in this hotel but he tends to forget about these things, and I can tell that he is trying to remember.

"I was saying that we won't be able to go out today... It got bloody crowded out there." He repeats himself, gesturing towards the street, almost fifteen stories below. "So Liam and I decided to do some writing instead. Want to tag along? We have been working on something and it's pretty wicked."

"Actually..." I say, standing up and making my way to the suitcase that's resting atop of the king sized bed. "There's something I have to do. But I will try and join you guys later, alright?"

"Right, but remember, we need to get some shit done and fast. This why we're here." He says, giving me a not so light punch in the arm.

"I know... And I think I might have stumbled upon an idea."

Louis nods, and slapping himself loudly on the thighs, he gets up and leaves the room just as swiftly as he came in.

The first thing I see when I open my luggage is the very item I am looking for; my worn out, brown leather journal I carry along wherever I go.

I open it carefully, flipping through the pages as I search for a blank page I can use. And almost at the end of the book, I find one.

For a few seconds, I just sit there, staring at the wall and chewing anxiously at the pen that I had on my pocket. Words fly randomly through my mind, just like they always do when I am trying to find the perfect ones to put together.

After a while they suddenly come to me, and I hastily scribble them on the page, almost afraid that they might disappear if I don't write them down fast enough.

I've been idolizing the light it your eyes... Olivia.

"Yeah, I definitely got something here..."