They say when the sun sets, sunflowers face each other. But what if there was no other sunflower to turn to? What if each sunflower had been plucked out, leaving one to its misery, lone and terrified, with no kind of its own, a cruel world in its wa...
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|| TRACK : IF YOU'RE ON THE WATER // THE SAXOPHONES ||
Morning rays teased Harry's eyes open, warm on his skin. The naked miles of his skin was covered under the softness of his sheet, warmth radiating from the body next to his, sleeping soundly, soft snores echoing in the air. Harry's heart melted slightly at the sight of Louis, golden under the morning sun, skin bronze against the white sheets, he was a dream Harry was living in consciousness, soft and beautiful and golden — his Louis.
Louis was Harry's, no matter a mark or not, Louis was his. It did not matter if the world was falling because Louis was his. He had a person who was completely his, who gave himself to Harry just as he took Harry for himself. Louis was in his bones and his flesh (though he feared it was his cum leaking out of him) and Louis was in the pieces of his soul that he had been trying to find within the ruins of himself.
Louis was love. Louis was home.
Life was a silly, cruel thing that was never truly one's. It was never always happy, nor was it always sad. It was like an illusion of an ocean, only to turn out to be shallow water providing disguise to vicious rocks as you try to jump in. He was still sour, but his bubbling happiness eclipsed it all. But right now he was Louis', with his strong arms loosely wrapped around his middle, his soft puffs of breath mixing with Harry's and his scent twining with Harry's.
It was a calm morning, no screeching tires, no roaring dogs. It was just him and Louis, in their own bliss, soft and shy, under a sheet with tangled limbs and fluttering hearts. How did he ever think he was going to give this up? This — them, their pups, Louis, Louis as their father. His family. Harry sighed, scooting closer to the sleeping alpha, watching his relaxed face, lashes kissing the bone of his cheek, right side of his face squished against the pillow; and he was all Harry ever wanted.
"You've been watching me for too long — 'tis a tad creepy, love." He slurred, eyes still shut and relaxed, only his arm pulling Harry closer.
"I can't believe you are mine." Harry whispered, tracing his features lightly. Louis' back was to the window and the sun, his frame casting a shadow on Harry's face as he rested his face closer to Louis', the tip of their noses brushing together. "I've ached to wake up next to you."
"I believe I am dreaming still. I refuse to believe that you are real and all mine to love." Harry only inched closer, his fingers lightly brushing a strand of Louis' hair away from his eye, unbelieving of the sight in front of him. "I love you so much, have I told you? I get to tell you that every morning, and night, and anytime I want to."
"You are too sappy in the morning," mumbled Harry, kissing his alpha softly, groaning when Louis' arms tightened around him, his bump trapped between them. "I love you, I love you, I love you. I get to love you everyday."
