"I've never had a real home, but you've shown me how it feels to have one."
A story about a boy who wasn't too sure about a long life because of his disease. Also, he hadn't had a real home, he went from family to family since he was only little. He...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
S I X T Y S E V E N -showing his true colors-
Harry's eyes were on the small picture frame resting on the railing above the fireplace. He loved the picture. It was his favorite of the ones he had ever taken. The moon shone bright on the picture, and even the small grey places were visible. The grey parts of the moon he never knew what it was exactly. He could never capture the moon fully. He understood the principle: the moon was lit by the sun. But he thought it was a special concept. It was a rock in the sky, reflecting the light of the sun. He could stare at it for hours. He wanted to understand it, to be able to place it. What were those rough spots? Why was the light so white? Why was it so beautiful?
What he also liked about the picture was the memory. Louis was in the picture. And even if only his back was on it, he could imagine the way he smiled at the moon. He smiled at the moon the way he only smiled at him. And he loved that. Louis told him the moon reminded him of him. It was ironic, because Louis was his sun. So beautiful, bright, joyful, yet sometimes so unreachable. If the sun shone on him, he could feel his skin tingling, a warmth coming with it. The same feeling when he was with Louis.
Louis' smile was the kind of smile at which you couldn't contain yourself not to smile back. It was impossible not to. At least, to him. Maybe it was because he knew what his smile really meant. Or because he knew it took Louis a long time to show his smile again. Maybe because of the way he smiled only at him. Perhaps it was simply because he was deeply in love with him.
After a night full of thunder and heavy rain, a beautiful day followed. It was sunny, and hot outside. The humidity was so low that even the wind felt like a dry blanket. It was already late in the evening. But even in the late evening, it was still incredibly warm outside. Even warm for a summer's day at the end of June.
The black sky was lightened with small little stars right above them. They laid in the grass, the green tall grass a few meters in front of the edge of the cliff. They frequently shared moments like they did then. Just staring up at the sky, being lost in their own thoughts. Sometimes they shared them, sometimes they didn't. It was peaceful.
Louis' left hand was resting on his stomach, and the other one laid peacefully by his side. When he felt Harry's pinky finger touch the side of his hand, he smiled and held him.
"I like holding you," said Harry quietly. "It makes me feel close to you. I like the idea, because it reminds me that I can, that I'm allowed."
Louis squeezed his hand slightly. "I like your tenderness," he said back. Like, Harry thought, but what about love? He didn't want to be the first to confess his love. Instead, he searched for small signs from Louis. He tried to find the answer if he loved him by leading him in little ways. He wished he was like Louis. He wished he had the confidence to just ask him. Are you in love with me? Such a small, easy question, but he couldn't ask it. He wished he had the confidence.
