Summer Love

Louis

To be honest, I never imagined life to be like this. It’s been thirteen years – long, sad years – since I met him. And by him I mean, Harry Styles. He’s absolutely perfect. I’m always watching him, from a far, I’ve never actually spoken to him before; it’s like being invited to a party you don’t really want to be at – sitting alone, waiting for something interesting to finally happen. Nobody actually acknowledges the fact that you are there. Just like he did.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I knew Harry knows of my existence, but he doesn’t really know that it’s actually me. I know this is true. Of course he hasn’t put the pieces together yet. And he won’t; at least for now, anyway.

I sat on the outside of the woods, watching Harry spill out his soul in this diary he’s been writing. He keeps it for the summer, I’ve seen him. His curls falling over his face, his back bent as he writes in his brown book, looks up for a moment and chews on the pen, before looking back down and scribbling another sentence or two in there. I don’t know what he’s writing, but it would be nice to find out, you know.

Over the couple of years, I found out Harry wasn’t at all like the guy you would expect him to be; he didn’t swing the way of the vagina. Or at least, through what I could see from peering into his bedroom window. Girls came and went, a kiss on the cheek as they left after the day, but absolutely no sexual touch other than that of the slight kiss. The boys, however, were different. I remember, one of the boys that stayed for days and basically followed Harry around everywhere. Accidentally, I think, Harry was with this boy with the rather long front fringe, that didn’t seem to want to leave Harry alone – and I could tell why, the way he looked at him remind me of the way I would watch Harry, myself – forgot to close the window blinds, and Harry pushed long front fringe guy onto the bed, lips glued to each others. It made my stomach churn; no, not because he was gay, because that was exactly what I wanted to be doing to Harry, but I couldn’t, obviously, because I was stuck on the outside.

Harry

It happened about thirteen years ago; I was young and obnoxious, taking advantage of absolutely anything I could. I thought it would be great to go for a walk, in the middle of summer, heat smothering my skin, making sweat form where my curls met my forehead. And that’s when I heard it. It was a deep, unpleasant growl coming from the woods. Of course, 7 year old me had to go and have a look; there weren’t supposed to be dogs or wolves in the woods. And then there was another growl, and next thing I knew I was being pulled further and deeper into the woods. I struggled to get out of their grip; but that’s when I saw it. It was the prettiest wolf ever. Not that I have see many wolves before, but his eyes and the way the grey scruff of his neck was absolutely beautiful. For a moment, I forgot what was happening, my surroundings going a blur, the only thing that was still focused was the grey wolf; I lay there, with my eyes locked on this wolf – something about this him  reminded me of life, love, hope, but full of misery all at the same time. It was beautiful, perfect, and something about it made me fall in love, instantly. He just stood there, not helping me, glaring back into my eyes.

With a slight groan of pain, I closed my eyes, as the wolves around me closed in. The last thing I heard was a dark growl, similar to the one that had drawn me into the woods to start off with. The next thing I remember about that day, was waking up in a hospital bed, cuts, bruises and bite marks covering my tiny, soft body.

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Author's notes: Hi guys, thanks for reading! This is just like a prologue first chapter, I'm not sure if you'll like it, so please, comment whether you want me to continue, because I would love the encouragement. Please tell me what you think of the story, any sort of feedback is welcome. Again, thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!