Yes Daddy // h.s

1/ T H I R T Y - F O U R

.     HARRY

I was walking towards her cafe. I went to check up on her like I always did. To watch her from the corner of the street, behind all the bushes and all the cars.

It was what I've been doing for the past week.

I could see how she smiled at her customers or how she talked to them or to the boy who was now working with her but me.

And I stopped talking to her because I gave up. There was no point in trying to convince her to talk to me when she clearly didn't want to. She is hurt and it's all because of me. I'll give her space until she recovers and decides to talk to me.

I may never know what happened to her when she was captured by my son of a bitch brother and what he told her.

And I may never find out because she won't talk to me and I can't find James.

For now.

I waited in my usual spot as I noticed the boy with blonde or I don't know, brown hair? I didn't give a fuck about him.

Then only colors that mattered to me were the blue of her eyes and the gold of her hair.

I watched as they worked and worked non stop and finally when the cafe was empty, the boy came outside and started to smoke.

My attention drifted back to her again as she continued to clean the counter she has been scrubbing for the past hour. Stop it, dammit it's clean!

Soon she joined him outside and they both stood there. I knew he was up to no good because when I waited here and watched her I could see how he looked at her. I knew what the look meant because I looked at her like that all day and night long.

The boy handed her a cigarette and my jaw dropped to the floor because she asked him to. When did she start to smoke? How the hell did this even happen? James it's all fucking your fa--

My thoughts stopped. The world came crashing down. Suddenly the air was heavy and it weighed on my shoulders. My eyes and mouth were left wide open. My heart dropped, breaking into hundreds of pieces that I knew I couldn't put back together no matter how many times I tried.

She kissed him.

She kissed him.

She kissed him.

I turned away, blinking back the tears that were threatening to spill. When I was ready to look back they weren't there as they had started working again.

Why would she do that?

My plan didn't work?

All along I thought my plan was working. I bought a women's perfume and sprayed it on my clothes whenever I came back from a night out to make her jealous, to see if she cared. To see if I could trigger any emotion inside her even if it turned out to be anger. But she didn't budge.

I would smear my coat with lipstick to see if she noticed them, but she didn't.

I washed away all my anxiety, anger and hurt by drinking and smoking to see if she saw how broken I was. But she didn't.

I made out with one and only one woman the night I was so angry with her but I even stopped in that because none of them would be her. Nobody could replace her.

My plan failed. I failed. We, failed.

I got up and started walking back to the house, not caring if my car was parked only 2 or 3 blocks away.

My steps started to become longer and now I was speeding towards my house.

I was running as I ignored the burning feeling in my lungs from the lack of oxygen or the coldness on my cheeks from my tears or the burning in my legs.