headmaster styles.

Flowers In the Attic

"You make flowers grow, even in the saddest part of me."

March 23, 2012

The Bently Mansion's Attic

"Here, I'll help you," Harry said when he pulled the stairs down from the ceiling.

"I am perfectly capable of climbing up the stairs by myself." I smacked his hand away and made my way up the half-broken stairs.

Once we walked into the attic, I sighed. There wasn't any dust, and there was just a bunch of fresh flowers and a daybed.

"What is this?" I asked, looking at Harry.

"My father used to come up here to get away from Gina sometimes. She brings fresh flowers up here sometimes like this room is his grave, cause she knew that he came up here to get away. She just thought he would somehow see the love she tries to show him with flowers." He ran his hand over the duvet on the bed and I sighed.

"Do you miss him?" I blurted out and he dropped his hand to his side after running his fingers along the yellow roses in the corner.

"Every day," he whispered and I felt a pang in my chest, "But you know what it feels like to have lost a father," he turned to me and the tears built up in my eyes, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up."

"It's fine. I've missed my father too." I hugged myself and clutched my dress.

"Do you need a hug?" he partially outstretched his arms but I shook my head, "Why don't you want me to hold you?" he whispered, his eyes closed.

"Because I can't stand to look at you right now. I am beyond pissed at myself." I sighed again and he looked at me through the hair that had fallen on his forehead.

"Ana, I don't want you to beat yourself up about that, okay?" he went to walk towards me but I took a step back.

"You're making me beat myself up about it. I don't want to keep doing this. Every time I even look at someone wrong, you're always on my case." I shook my head and he glared.

"You're always on my case!" he shouted and I let out a cry before my painful tears fell, "Anastasia. I don't want to keep acting like this is all okay when really it's not. I can't stand to see you acting like this around me. When I want you, I want you to want me." He breathed out and raked his hand through his hair.

"But I can't want you if you keep making me feel this way." I kept crying, and he tried to comfort me but I held up my shaking hand, making him stop.

"What way am I making you feel, Anastasia?" he sounded depressed. The way his mouth formed words... He looked ultimately upset.

"Useless," I slurred the word and he frowned.

"If anything I should make you feel loved," he pointed at me, "But it's hard Anastasia. It's hard to love you. You're always so bitchy and uptight, and I hate it. You don't let me get what I want."

"What is it that you want exactly?" I crossed my arms and he began filling the space between us, but I took a couple steps back.

"I want you," he looked down and smiled, "I'm turning you into something you're not. I just want the real you."

"Then stop pushing me to be fake," I snapped and he furrowed his brows, "I am forced to sit here and pretend that nothing is going on between us just so you can be with someone else. I know that something is going on with us, but they don't. I have to pretend that I never loved you, that you never touched me," I buried my face in my hands, "I just wish this would stop."