Harvard Boy

I always have

'What's it like...'

Those words passed around the room, like a question everyone knew the answer to.

"To do this all alone?" His shadowy eyes were spiteful; vengeful. They devoured her presence.

But she still didn't have anything to say to him- nothing of substance anyway. So without a word, without a thought-- she slowly; hesitantly, held out their baby. Offering him.

His eyes widened, heart raced.

It was shameless, the look that came over his face. So unexpected, so out of the blue, but welcomed.

His hands shook as he grew closer, on instinct his heavy arms cradled him. Engulfing his' son.

Soft skin of ivory, hair as thick as thieves, nose broad- with full lips. He could see himself, see her. The small boy in his care fussed, but slowly drifted back to sleep.

He's to small to point out traits of what's him and her, to fragile to tell exactly who he'll become. But Harry could see it, he could see it all. As if God was giving him insight on the small miracle in his arms.

Harry never liked crying, especially in front of her. But the moment, was overbearing, demanding to be felt.

With tears cascading down his cheek, Victoria finally answered his question with a whisper. "It felt like that. Doing this all alone, always felt like that..."

He didn't hear her.

She's to tired to fight, to completely react. Her shock has dissolved into nothing, and her heart has cracked many of times. With heavy eyes, she closes them. Taking in his comforting presence.

"The crash of the shot rolled up the hills, and rolled down again." He serenaded to the child, while swaying him slightly. "Rolled up the hills, and down again."

Victoria's eyes shot open. That was one of the very last lines of 'Mice and Men.' Where George, one of the leading characters, had to shoot his best friend. A tragedy, a calamity.

That was the book that seemingly brought them together. The one she gave him without consideration of what it all could mean.

"That feeling. I get that line more than ever now." Harry choked. "I can feel everything. It's echoing in my head."

She could see it there, the truth lacing his words, the anguish covering his face. He was in pain- like her, like many others.

With blood boiling, and the chilling reminder of the past, she sat up.

"Why couldn't you love me..." Her voice cracked.

He stiffened.

A mess of emotions combining, a deadly argument awaiting.

They were two tortured souls, who kept intertwining, and reacting- forgetting how connected they were.

Soulmates, for a better word.

Harry locked her gaze. Not a word said. Not a sound heard.

He broke eye contact, and found the medical crib beside him. Gently tucking their son inside.

Harry turned back to her, stalking.

With a brisk minute, a lump was caught in her throat from his proximity. She could feel his breath fanning over her, his cologne invading her senses.

"Don't." she whispered, before he slammed his lips against hers.

Her fists swiftly bunched up, and she fought him, but he held tighter. Shoving his tongue in her mouth. Moaning, and pushing further.

It was heated, passionate, and Victoria slowly found herself dissolving into the kiss. Crying and groaning, she's missed him so much. To much.

She grips him tighter, pulls him impossibly closer. Her hands combing through his hair, his palm pushing down her hip.

"I couldn't, because I always have." He hushed against her mouth.

That was his answer, and somewhere deep down, she knew he was telling the truth.

(Sorry if I ruined Mice and Men' for you. The line wouldn't have made sense if I hadn't 🙈 Love you all so much. Continuous love.)