Chapter 52: Art Museum

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*Song: Ever Since New York by Harry Styles*


"I think I'm gonna marry you one day." Something Harry said to me two weeks ago on the rooftop of a hotel. I never responded to that comment, I didn't really know how to. That statement gave me so many butterflies it felt like I was going to throw up. I don't think I've ever smiled that big in my life. Neither of us said anything after that we just stared at each other like it was the last time we were going to see each other. Harry didn't even seem nervous after he said it which made me know how serious he really was about it. To marry Harry Styles, something I have thought about since the day of my mother's death anniversary.

"Wow the Karate Kid, that's a bit angsty for you," a familiar British voice says.

I turn around seeing Harry standing there in his sweatshirt and his sunglasses sitting on the top of his head with a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands.

"Yeah I guess you can say that," I say as he walks towards the couch.

"I got these for you. I'm sorry that I got upset earlier, I just felt horrible that I didn't know," he explains.

"There is no way you could've known Harry, it's not like I told you," I say, trying to comfort him.

"I know but I can't help but feel bad," he says, grabbing my hand.

"Well there will be no reason to feel bad anymore, I'm gonna tell you," I say, before I lose confidence.

"You don't have to Leah," he says.

"No I need to because if I don't now, then I never will," I state.

"Okay," he says, moving to sit on the coffee table in front of me, holding both of my hands in between us.

That was the first time I really told him anything that personal and he handled it very well. He didn't pity me in any sort of way and he just sat there and listened, a thing certain people I know can't do. They usually start asking all these questions about it. 'How did you feel when it happened?' 'Did you cry?' Did your dad cry?' But Harry just sat there and listened to me, no questions asked. Yet again I've only told Olive and Kenna about my mother. They both asked a numerous amount of questions that only stressed me out more. They didn't really understand how hard it was for me to tell them. But Harry understands my crazy, not being able to talk about things.

"What are you thinking about?" Harry says, walking into the room, laying on the floor next to me.

"Nothing much really. I was just in a laying on the floor type of mood right now," I lie. I don't want to bring up to him what I was really thinking about because I feel like that would make me insane. I feel like he wouldn't think so but I don't want to be that girl friend. He smirks which tells me he knows I'm lying but he's not gonna push it.

"What have you been up to?" I ask, changing the subject.

"I've just been talking to people all day on the phone, which is very boring if you were wondering. The whole time I was just basically waiting for you to get home from work," he replies.

"Yeah, I wanted to come home too. It was busy today," I say.

"Just think, in a month you won't have to even worry about work anymore. It will be just you, me, and the road," Harry says, looking over to me.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," I say, looking over at him. "What do you want to do tonight?"

"I was thinking we could go to the museum," he says, still looking at me.

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