Valentine's Day
Note: Another one written by me and my best friend! (I guess we share the account now!) We are actually going to write and post Lexi and Harry's story (one day, at least!) but whether it will include this scene we are not sure. But this is just a little one-shot story thing – so enjoy!
Tap! Tap tap! Tap!
I groaned as the tiny, annoying sounds tore me from my dreams. It didn't take me long to remember what day it was. Valentine's Day.
I turned in my bed, reaching out to snatch my iPhone off the shelf beside my bed, before bringing it under the covers with me and pulling them over my head.
Once in the darkness, I turned it on and winced away from the brightness of the screen. My heart clenched as I saw my wallpaper. It was of me and Harry, back when we had first visited the tree on the hill. That was out special place, and this picture was my special memory. But I didn't want to remember it now. I wanted to forget everything.
I hadn't seen Harry in almost six months, and was missing him far more than I had thought I would. I thought I would be glad to finally have some time to myself.
Boy was I wrong.
I missed him so, so much. I thought about him every day, and everything seemed to remind me of him. I hadn't even been around for his birthday – I couldn't even text him! Since he was in America, the text would have cost loads, and there's no telling if he would have gotten it or not. I don't think he would even have time to check his phone anyway, since he's so busy there.
It was hell. Why couldn't this stupid tour just end already? Why couldn't he come back?
Not wanting to reminisce about Harry for another second, I quickly averted my eyes to the time that was placed above the picture.
6:58, the clock said.
I closed my eyes and sank my head against my chest. Oh my days. It was Valentine's day, and I was awake at seven o'clock in the freaking morning! What on earth was wrong with me?
What was I expecting to happen, a freaking miracle?
For Harry to come back?
Ha. Yeah right.
Tap! Tap! Tap tap tap!
The tapping against my window continued. Ugh. Could I ever catch a break?
Throwing the covers off me, I stretched my arms into the air and yawned widely. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and, with some forced effort, pulled myself to my feet.
Jeez, I hated mornings.
Dragging my heavy bones over to the window, I was about to fling it open to check for whatever had disturbed my precious sleep, when something caught my eye.
A little piece of paper, taped to the glass of my window.
I stared at it curiously, wondering what it was. It was a minute or two before the thought occurred to me to reach out and see what it was.
Once retrieved, I thought it was just an ordinary scrap of paper, but when I turned it over there was something almost... familiar about it.
"So, if the chain is on your DOOR, I understand."
That was all that was written on it. That one line. Just that one, simple line. And I recognised the handwriting too.
I wracked my brains momentarily for where I knew the line from, before the answer came crashing down on me suddenly, like a tonne of bricks. It was a line from one of my favourite songs – Back to December by Taylor Swift. I knew I recognised it from somewhere! How did I not realise sooner?
But one word was done bigger and bolder than all the others. The word door, written all in thick, block capitals.
Automatically, I blinked and swung around to face my bedroom door.
And there, lo and behold, was another note.
This time I ran to collect it, the curious thought as to why these notes are here, in my house, in the first place, slipping through my surprised and excited mind.
It was another song lyric, in the same beautiful, curled script as the first one.
"Stranger silence makes me wanna take the STAIRS."
I recognised this message almost immediately. It was from the song Ours, another by Taylor Swift. I had loved this song for years; of course I was going to remember the lyrics for it. In fact, it was my favourite song.
But again, one word stood out from the rest. Stairs.
I opened my bedroom door and made my way to the stairs, just as the note had told me to. About halfway down was yet another fragment of paper.
I paused and bit my lip, hesitating before bending down carefully to pick it up.
I skimmed my eyes across what it said.
"I hope your life leads you back to my FRONT DOOR."
More lines from Taylor Swift, this time from Stay Beautiful. (What could I say? I loved all her music.)
Front door, I thought, reading the line over and over again. This time those were the words that had stuck out.
Before I made my way to the front door, I ran back upstairs to grab my hoodie. I could tell where this strange trail was leading me, and I didn't want to go outside with just the joggers that I had slept in and an old vest top.
I jerked my old Jack Wills jumper over my head and shook my hair, brushing it through with my hands, and ignoring the pang I felt ripple across my body and tighten in my stomach as I remembered the origins of my hoodie.
It was Harry's. He had given it to me before he left, even though it was his favourite.
Pushing the thoughts to the back of my mind, I jogged back down the stairs and walked to the door to catch my breath (there were a lot of stairs in my house).
This next one was stuck to my door with a large wad of Blu-tack.
"Your eyes are blue like the OCEAN, and I'm lost out at SEA. Did the SUN just come out, or did you smile at me?"
The note asked me, a cheeky smiley face added on the end and a grinning sun with large, dark glasses on, in the corner.
These lyrics were from the song Cute, by Stephen Jerzak. I loved this song dearly – in fact, Harry had been the one who had introduced it to me, in the first place.
And speaking of him, I had started to have my suspicions about who was posting these little letters around my house, but I was pretty sure it'd be impossible for him to carry them out without waking me.
Especially since he was in America.
I read the note over once more, though the answer was pretty obvious. Ocean, sea, sun?
The beach.
I grabbed the door handle and jiggled it until it opened (for some reason my door always jammed up).
Then I legged it to the beach.
I slowed down as I came to the bank just above the beach, taking my time to walk up it. The morning sun was just peeking over the horizon line, and pastel colours was scattered across the sky, merged into the pink-white clouds like a water colour painting.
The wind blew from behind me, sweeping my long hair into my face.
Written into the sand, in large – no, massive – letters, were three simple words.
My heart began to race as I read them, beating hard and fast like a metronome working overtime.
I love you.
Those were the words inscribed into the sand, the stick that they must have been drawn with lying discarded at the last flick of the final U.
I ran down to the where the grass touched into the sand, and collapsed at the bottom of one of the letters. My hands sank beneath the golden grains as I gripped into the sand.
My eyes felt wet. Harry, why were you doing this to me?
Holding back the tears, I sighed and crawled along the beach until I was sat in the dead centre of the O. I lay back down in the soft sand and placed my hands across my eyes, wanting to relax in the dawning warmth, and let the rising sun melt away all my problems.
But there was something jabbing painfully into my back.
I sat up, irritated, and groped around behind me for the source of the pain. I grabbed at something hard and brought it up in front of my face.
It was a shell. A swirly, orange-pink shell that matched the sunrise perfectly.
And, surprise-surprise, there was another piece of paper taped to it.
"Go to our favourite place."
I unstuck the shell from the note and put it in my pocket. It was too pretty to leave here, and I certainly wasn't going to let it be broken.
Then I reread the note and thought back to all the possible places that I had been to over the years, picking out my favourites and discarding any that it would seem impossible to get to, or were very unlikely that Harry would have chosen. It would have to be close by, or otherwise he wouldn't have picked it, and it would probably mean a lot to me. I would definitely have a significant emotional attachment to wherever it was, knowing Harry. And I did know him, quite well in fact.
It must have been a place we had visited together, a place where we had memories, happy ones.
A place like the tree on the hill.
The tree on the hill was right by the beach, and judging by the pattern the notes were making, it seemed like the perfect candidate. I could see the black silhouette in the distance – it definitely wasn't too far away.
I heaved myself up from the beach, my feet slipping in the sand. It took a while, but soon I was back on my feet and brushing myself off, then making my way over to the tree on the hill.
It didn't take long to get there, only a few minutes of quick walking, in fact.
The shade from the great branches of the Oak tree was cold and refreshing on my face, and I was glad to be out of the sun, finally. It wasn't that warm, especially since it was only morning, but I was already hot, and flustered, and a bit bothered by this funny trail, and the gentle coolness caused by the shade of the tree was a great welcome.
I studied the tree, crossing my arms. This note was pinned directly in front of my face, right smack-bang in the middle of the bark. A box of Valentine's chocolates were stood up at the roots of the tree as well.
I marched up to it, mixed feelings swirling about inside me. Excitement, nervousness, fear, curiosity, confusion, not to mention both sadness and happiness. I didn't know what to feel! Harry was in America – how did I know this wasn't just some cruel joke played on me by one of my friends? It wasn't like I locked the door to my house or anything (dangerous, I know, but nothing had happened so far. Well, until now, that is) so anyone could have gotten in.
I plucked the paper from the bark and read it silently.
"What about our other favourite place?"
The note asked me, and I had to pause and think again. This time, I knew what I was looking for, so it didn't take me too long.
Just up ahead of here there was a tiny woods, with a little clearing in it. Harry and I would spend hours there, just laying about in the sun. It was perfect.
Before I set off there, I pulled a hair-band off my wrist and tied my hair into a loose knot with it, resting on the nape of my neck. It was starting to get a quite windy now, and I couldn't think straight with my hair blowing all over my face.
I set my eyes upon the chocolates again, and my stomach rumbled. I know it was still only early morning, but I had had little to eat last night (as my fridge was dangerously under-stocked) and hadn't eaten anything this morning either.
I suppose I could eat them as I went along.
A smiled curled the edges of my lips as I took out the first one and slipped it into my mouth. Belgian, my favourite. Harry knew me far too well, for his own good.
When I reached the clearing (the box and my hands now empty, as I had discarded the cardboard container in a rubbish bin, a while back), my eyes were immediately drawn to a large-ish boulder. It had always been here, in the clearing, but it was the thing perched almost precariously on top of it that caught my eye.
Yup, you guessed it. Another note. But this time with a rose.
I picked up the rose before reading the message. The crimson petals were velvety against the tips if my fingers, and the scent was sweet and fresh. Harry knew I was a sucker for roses.
Next, I viewed the note.
"A BRIDGE to love."
Bridge.
My mind instantly brought me to a memory of a small steam that passed through this forest. There was a short bridge over it. I remember how I had almost fallen into the shallow water, but Harry had grabbed me just in time.
Well, almost just in time. We still fell in, but we fell in together.
This treasure hunt was getting me further and further away from home. My mum worked her shifts in the very early mornings, getting home at about eight AM and sleeping for pretty much the rest of the day.
It was seven o'clock about half an hour ago, which meant that she would be getting home soon, and it was probably best for me to be there when she arrived.
I pushed my way through the trees, until the faint sound of trickling water could be heard. Just ahead I could see the sun glinting off of the stream, and I managed to spot the grey, stone bridge through the tree trunks.
I stood by the edge of the bridge. This little letter was once again pinned directly in front of my nose – it was hard to miss, and I suspected any passing travellers might have read it. Not that this place got many people walking in it, especially at these hours.
"One more stop!"
It read, a little heart drawn in the corner. Next to the heart was a little arrow and the letter P.T.O.
Please Turn Over, I thought, flipping the paper in my hands. (I was glad the lyrics and the message had been fitted onto just one piece of paper – I had been collecting all the notes as I went along, and my pocket was beginning to feel very full of crumpled paper, and rustled fairly loudly as I walked.)
More writing – more lyrics in fact – filled the other side of the page. My mind went blank as the song swirled into my mind, flooding me with a great wave of emotion.
As soon as I had read the words, I began to feel like crying again. I knew this song. It was one that Harry had written for me, about a year back. He was trying to convince me to go out with him, no matter how many times I refused, and so wrote me this song.
I remember he had sang it in the school talent show and had come second, not because of his song or his voice (both which were amazing) but because the guitarist he had chosen, from the year below, had messed up on some of the chords near the end.
I didn't want to admit it at the time, but I really had loved his song for me. I hadn't told him, though, but he must have known; otherwise it wouldn't have ended up, here, in my hands, on this small scrap of paper.
I looked up, blinking away tears, and stuffed the note out of my sight and into my pocket, where it would lay with the others for the time being.
But I suppose Harry wasn't done yet, as just ahead of me there was another memo.
"Just a few more steps, Lexi!"
This was nearly over. Curiosity had led me forward, but I badly wanted this to stop. My hopes had risen to seeing Harry at the end of this, and I didn't want them to shatter hopelessly like broken glass.
I had never wanted him, never needed him, so badly before in my life. It was like someone had suddenly stripped all the air from my lungs, and I couldn't breathe without him.
A small, critical voice scolded me in the back of my mind.
You're stupid, Lexi! It spoke, berating me harshly, and I dreaded it was right. But, nevertheless, I listened onwards. You're stupid! When did this happen? When did you go from merely putting up with his company and allowing him to form a friendship, to yearning for his presence?
When was it that you fell for him?
I wasn't sure I could answer that. Because the truth was, I didn't know.
Signing, I pressed onward. This would end soon, I knew it. I just needed to continue on until I met with whatever as waiting for me at the end.
And I would interrogate Harry about it later.
The sound of deep, cheerful laughter rang out through the trees ahead of me, breaking me from my downhearted stupor.
I knew that laugh. I knew that laugh very well.
A grin spread across my face and I broke into a run. My eyes were blurred with tears as I burst through the final few trees, but that didn't stop me from spotting a familiar bouncy bob of dark, curly hair.
Harry was sat on an old, rickety swing, tied to a low-hanging branch with thick rope, and grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
I remember when we had made that swing. It sure was a lot of trouble trying to climb up the tree and tie the rope, let me tell you. (Harry had insisted on doing it, since he didn't want me to hurt myself. After a few failed attempts of climbing the tree, and then crashing down swiftly when he did manage to reach onto the branch, he finally allowed me a go.)
He jumped up when he saw me and pulled me tightly into his arms.
"I knew you were behind this, you crazy bastard!" I laughed, sparkling tears streaming down my cheeks in a non-stop waterfall. He hugged me tighter and I tangled my hands in his messy but delightfully soft hair, breathing in the gentle fragrance of his aftershave.
"Of course I was, Lexi!" he smirked, his voice laced with amusement. He drew back and held me at arm's length. "Who else do you think would go to all this trouble, just to tell the most beautiful girl he has ever seen just one little thing?"
"And what's that?" I replied a little dumbly with. I already knew the answer.
Harry smiled down at me, delight dancing in his eyes. He reached out and brushed back some of the hair that had fallen from my knot, and cupped my jaw in his hand.
"That I love you."
With one hand, he stretched out behind him and steadied he swing, before sitting down on it again and pulling me into his lap.
"I love you too," I managed out, before he pinched my chin lightly between two of his fingers and kissed me. One of my hands found his, and he entwined his fingers between mine. Electricity sizzled across my skin and a strange warmth shot straight to my stomach.
Harry pulled away for just a second, before our lips locked together again, and caught my gaze in his soft blue eyes. "Happy Valentine's Day, Lexi," he muttered, his warm breath sweeping across my cheek, before his warm arms curled around me once more.
