"Hey it's Harry! Leave a message and I'll ring ya' as soon as I can! All the love!"
I saw you today... outside that coffee shop on 52nd Street. You looked sad. Heartbreakingly so, and all I wanted to do was stroke your hair and hold you close and sing you to sleep like I did when we were together. God, I miss you so much. Sometimes, when I'm with Dylan and we're laughing or walking together or just cuddling on the coach, I close my eyes and try to convince myself it's you. I know that's a bad thing, fuck, it's actually a horrible thing, but I can't help it... Once you told me I was like the waves, you know, wild and uncontrollable and a little too much but I pulled people in, I made them want to be around me even if they didn't think they wanted to be. I realize now that you were my moon. You were the only person I listened to. You pulled me in and I gave in to your every whim. Now I'm the waves with no moon and that means no one's here to pull me in. I'm uncontrollable. Please come back to me... please. The moon and the waves need one another. I love you, sweetheart. Goodnight.
Voicemail Received.
10:56 p.m. April 26, 2015
a/n: lol no one reads this story but that's okay bc it's great and Picasso wasn't appreciated until he died so i'll wait
YOU ARE READING
Dial Tones | h.s.
Fanfiction" i've listened to your dial tone over and over again, so much so, that it's starting to sound like i love you. "
