Lemonade (Harry Styles A.U.)

Chapter 6: Watermelon Connoisseur and a Fruit Aficionado.

Saturday morning was damp, the ground soggy and saturated with rain water from the on and off showers overnight. Flashes of lightening and the rumbling cracks of thunder had robbed the neighborhood of peaceful dreaming at three a.m., but come sunrise the storm clouds had dispersed. Leaving only blue skies and fresh air behind, the puddles on the ground and perky hydrated foliage were the only signs leftover from a night of repetitive downpours. The sun was bright, humidity clinging to the air along with the floral scent of potted plants and newly laid dirt.

Gravel crunched beneath the soles of Harry's shoes early that morning, June bringing in an influx of puddles to dodge when the rainy season had picked up in full swing. Traipsing across the unpaved car park, the noise of a weed whacker disrupted the early morning peace, but brought along the pleasant aroma of freshly cut grass to drift over the breeze. The farmer's market was always a popular spot early on weekend mornings, no matter the wet ground or how hot the air was. Stepping inside, his eyes locked onto the girl behind the counter, and his smile grew along with his chipper mood. She was young, couldn't have been older than sixteen, but she was someone he saw consistently working the counter in the early morning hours. "Good morning, Freya."

"Good morning."

The wooden flooring was old and worn, footsteps padding along toward the displays of locally grown fruits and vegetables. Strangers littered the farm stand, weaving around one another, and Harry's hands first found a big, shiny red tomato. Lifting it, it was inspected in the light pouring in from the outside, and carefully it was placed to the bottom of the cloth tote bag he'd brought along with him before he moved just a few steps over and grabbed another.

Tomatoes. Lemons. Potatoes. Broccoli.

He nearly bumped into an elderly woman while she shopped for strawberries. Turning the corner, he came inches from pummeling her to the ground, and a slew of apologies began to fall from his lips instantaneously. His apologies were accepted, and instead of stepping away to move on with his shopping, the sight of blonde hair lingered in his peripherals from the moment he stepped around the woman and blindly continued to walk forward. Bright blonde hair shopping for watermelons, belonging to someone who didn't notice his presence when he stepped up to the stand and flitted his gaze across an assortment of packaged blueberries.

Plucking one from the bunch, the container was lifted to take a better peek at the berries, and ultimately was satisfied enough to place it in with the rest of his items. He stood back and watched her hands move across the array of melons, turning them, trying to find the perfect one, completely oblivious to the presence lingering mere feet away. The largest melon she could find was the one she lifted from the bunch, and she startled with the sound of his voice bursting her peaceful bubble. "The ones with a yellow spot on them are the sweetest." Frantic eyes flitted upward, setting upon golden features and loose brunette ringlets hanging over his forehead. The moment she registered the sight of his face, she visibly relaxed. "I'd say I'm a pretty experienced watermelon connoisseur. The more rotten it looks, the better it tastes." The melon she held was placed back onto the stand with a thud. Her face was flushed, skin holding onto a healthy glow, but he assumed he was wearing the same pinkish appearance from the stifling heat. "Good morning, Reign."

Her brows raised, hands splayed across two separate melons, and the surprised expression she wore morphed into a pleased one. "You finally got it right."

"Fast learner," he grinned, eyes flashing to the display of melons, and back up to her eyes. In the light, the color blue held onto a slight golden green hue. "Also, I'm fully aware Autumn would never be caught dead at the farmer's market at 7:30 on a Saturday morning."

"Process of elimination," Reign spoke, and Harry indubitably nodded. "Smart man. You catch on quick."

"She also doesn't have the dimples." Gesturing to her smile, the sight of the indents her cheeks adorned confirmed their own existence, and matched his as well. The melons were pointed at next, "Or a desire for fruits." Or, to be dressed in a creme colored sun dress, or a desire to be out of bed before ten. The last two, he opted not to express aloud.