Here comes the sun - Larry

PROLOGUE

I settle down at the table in my hotel room. I've decided to write hard and clear about what I'm thinking, so I press the pen against the paper in my notebook with the sole purpose of making him listen.

For a long time, I didn't know what to write. I thought I suffered from permeant writer's block because it had been months since I had written something that made sense. But since I met you, my fingertips have been bleeding. I can't go out without a pen, and I have resorted to writing on my laptop because it's faster. And now that I know what to write, what to say to you, I want you to listen carefully because I owe you a lot of apologies. I apologise for everything I assumed about you. I apologise for thinking you were just another jock who thrived in a world made for prep-school boys in uniforms. I apologise for misreading your personality before I grew to love it. I apologise for a lot of things, but mostly I apologise for making you question everything you thought about yourself. I know it would have been easier for you if I had stayed away. And I apologise for being unable to, but please don't blame me for falling in love. I'm only eighteen, after all. And I might be young, but I know I was born to tell stories. I don't know if I was born to tell them about you, but I am because you made me fall in love with being alive again. I had been grieving for six months when our worlds collided, and I was far from finished, but you made sure I wasn't alone—you saved me before I had the chance to drown. And maybe you'll be my favourite story to tell. It will be the most painful one if you leave, but it will be my favourite, nonetheless, because in the deepest parts of my being, I know you're the one. And yes, my love, sometimes it's possible to know this soon. I know you're it for me, that whatever happens, I don't want to look at you with what-ifs and could-haves. I don't want to live with a heart full of regret, wondering if it was all my fault that you chose to run. I want to live with a heart that belongs to you. I look at you now and wonder how I grew to love someone I previously couldn't stand, but when it comes down to it, I just want to be yours. I want the privilege of being loved by you. And I know it's silly that I fell for you in the first place, that I looked at you the way I did when you were kissing her instead. I know the butterflies weren't supposed to appear, but they did, and more so when you weren't with her anymore. I understand it, though, if I'm not what you need, but if you ask me to, I will give up everything for you. I would ruin my entire life for you because I don't want us to burn out. I don't know how I'm supposed to be strangers with someone who has seen my soul, with someone who feels so much like home. But if you decide to give up on us for good, then please let me know. I don't want to lose myself trying to hold onto you. I will if you ask me to, absolutely, but I need to know if you love me back. In the very end, I will respect your decision to move on without me, because I want you to be out of your mind happy. But I won't forget you because what a fucking plot-twist you were, Louis Tomlinson.

Yours sincerely, Harry.

I don't read my words over, I just rip the pages out of my notebook and slide them into an envelope. I then close it and scribble down Louis' name on the front.

A/N: For those of you who didn't read the A/N, this is the only part of the story that will be in Harry's POV. I know it was just a prologue, but I do hope you enjoyed it enough to keep reading. And yeah, remeber to vote and comment!