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The sun shines through the pine trees, leaving light patches around the place. Harry had been sitting with his feet crossed and a Brönte book in his hand.
'He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same'
He can't help but look at you. Your eyes reflecting deeply from the sun. Emerald eyes reminding him of early spring when flowers start to bloom and it was in that moment he lost his gaze. Lost his words. Eyes caught in a trance as he can't look away.
'What?' You giggle.
That soft laugh falling fluently from your mouth. A delightful sound of the magic flute by Mozart Amadeus. His hand finds it's way to your cheek, softly brushing the pad of his thumb along the bumpy, textural skin. Often you would sit by the vanity table and complain about your complexion. But to him, it was all beautiful. The nooks and crannies. The curves, imperfections. All of it stunning to him. It feels like he's been staring for hours yet it has only been a minute. My how time goes by so fast in his mind yet slow in reality. He can't help but nuzzle his nose delicately to yours, making it known to him that your all his. Only his.
'I love you' he whispers softly.
'I love you too' you smile.
And so it began. Him reading your favourite book. Taking small glances here and there. Minutes pass by into hours. The book now discarded somewhere as he places his soft, silky lips to yours. Delicate at first. His lips now heavier, feeling the rough cuts of yours. His hands tapping at your hips. You tangle your hands in his hair and he lets out a content sigh, loving this blissful moment. If he could he would stay like this forever. But all things don't last...
