Letting You In

Part 1- *New Start*

-Harry's POV -
     As I walked through the halls of the hell hole that was school, I groaned as the late bell rung. I was tardy, again.

     For the third time this week, I was in trouble again. And it was only Tuesday. I guess its what keeps it exciting sometimes, the thrill of doing something wrong and avoiding the teachers forced to act like guards trapping the students in the prison cells, sent thrills through my veins. I was hooked on the disobedience.

     If no one caught me I would get away with it, so I moved away from all the teachers viewpoints and ended up in the bathroom.

     As I pulled out a cigarette, a boy sped walked in, crying. He was wearing a newly stained neon pink sweater, with a broken flower crown still barely on his head.

     "What are you doing?" He sniffled, disappointed, and maybe even alarmed at the sight of my lighter. He was trying to wash the stain off his sweater as he reached for the towels, and failed.

     "People are bitches." I remarked, getting out enough towels and practically throwing them at him.

     "Tell me about it." He shook his head, and nearly started crying as he couldn't get the stain out of his sweater.

     I took off my first shirt, which left only a muscle shirt under that, and gave the first layer to him

     "Here. You wouldn't want to be seen in that anyway." I said, and he stared at my upper body. It eccentuated my every muscle, and I should've known that was what he was into.

     He looked at me with a glance mixed with despair and gratitude, maybe a little anger too.

     "That's what they tell me." He sighed, and gave me back my over shirt.

     "I don't need your charity." He said weakly, fearing I would hurt him. As I stared at his appearance more, I realized I had before. I've kept my "bad boy" persona up, as expected, but I don't abuse anymore. Except myself.

     "Look I know I just met you, but please don't." He said, and gently pushed my hand with the cigarette down.

     I nodded at him as I lowered my hand on my own, not thinking of a response quickly enough.

     "I'm sorry." He said, as I generically looked angry as anyone touched me.

     "It's my fault." I said, in a slight apologetic tone. I took his flower crown off to retie in, and pick the thorns they had weaved into it out. They had cut his head, and if you looked closely enough you could see blood driping on some of his feathery chestnut hair.

     The bell rung once again, and people started flooding the halls. I finished tying his crown, quickly dropped it on his head, and sauntered out. I had forgotten about the setting, and tried to shake off the uncomfortable, awkward experience in my stomach from meeting him.

     I couldn't be seen with him, but I will find a way to meet him again.

***********************************
Tell me your thoughts, comment and vote!!

Thanks!
_Tori