How could you touch my heart yet not love it?
I finished off the second blunt, feeling woozy. The ash tray was where I placed the remains after the drug could no longer be enjoyed. I looked at Harry to see his eyes closed, and his head laid back on the couch. I wanted to question him so badly about so many things. There were so many questions that I knew would never be answered. I knew that even bothering to ask would just lead to unwanted bickering from him. I sighed out loud, catching the little attention he had to give.
He hummed, a smile almost on his perfect lips. A smile was placed on mine just from the sight.
"You're so different when you're high." I comment.
He nodded. "I guess so."
Everything he said always made it so I couldn't respond. He liked everything to the point, no unnessecary chattering in between. I thought since he's in a good mood, I might try to get some information out of him.
"Where are you from?" I ask. He looked at me like I was dumb.
"This British accent doesn't give it away, hm?" He was such an asshole but he didn't know better. I rolled my eyes.
"Well, where in England, then?"
I licked his lips. "The North. You've probably never heard of it, so no point in telling you."
I leaned on a pillow and folded my arms, trying to get comfortable. "I've always wanted to go to London. I've never left New York besides on a class trip to New Jersey."
He looked at me. "Really? Why not?"
I shrugged. "New York has everything I've ever needed, I guess." Except someone like you.
He didn't say anything. He probably understood, since he's been to the city for awhile now. He's seen it all, hasn't he?
"Do you ever plan on getting married?" I blurted out, but this time I didn't feel guilty.
He laughed quietly. "No."
"Awh, really? Getting married seems like such a wonderful thing." I said, looking at the ceiling and thinking about how I saw my dad get married multiple times, and how happy the couple always looked. "I think of marriage differently then most people, though."
He sighed. "How so, Brinley?"
I smiled as he finally asked me to in deeper in my theory. "I mean, traditional marriage is so weird. You have to buy someone an expensive ring to show them you love them. Isn't that odd? A rock on a silver band placed on your finger that will mean absolutely nothing in years to come is what determines if you love someone. I just want someone to confess how they would be there and love me unconditionally with no limits." I sigh to think about what else I should say. "Someone saying that would be worth more than a thousand rings prices could ever buy."
I looked back over at Harry, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling at a steady beat.
It's too bad that he wasn't listening.
-
I've come to a conclusion - I fall too fast and too hard. Someone who can hardly stand me and was forced to take me away from my home has stolen my heart effortlessly, and he is in fact heartless.
I woke up on the couch, his arm laying almost lifelessly over my lap. His chest was still rising and falling at a steady pace, and his mouth was slightly open to allow the flow of oxygen. I stared at him. This time he couldn't tell me to stop.
His dark lashes laid on his pale cheeks, rosy from the snow. His pink lips, slightly parted still, and not as dry as you'd expect them to be from the winter frost, have been right infront of me the whole time. How have I not lost control?
He suddenly jerked out of his rest, and I closed my eyes and laid back down to make it look like I was resting as well - not taking in his beauty. He cleared his throat, and I felt his eyes glance over me for a few seconds. I felt his arm remove itself from my lap carefully, and his actions followed with him standing up, leaving me on the couch.
I opened my eyes again to watch him go to the kitchen and look through the fridge. I couldn't help but think.
I thought about him - and only him. I thought about how even his arm across my legs while he was unconscious could made me feel a certain way. I couldn't tell if it was love or just lust, because he's made me forget what it's like to feel. Just looking at him for a second made my heart fill with pure need for him.
I looked away when he looked back over at me.
"Sleep well?" He questioned, finally shutting the fridge.
I nodded. I yawned and stretched while he maneuvered around the kitchen.
My eyebrows pinched together. I wasn't too out of my mind from the drug earlier, but I wondered if Harry had kept in mind what I said.
"Harry." I said.
"Hm." He hummed, paying more attention to the box of food instead of me. I craved his attention.
"What did I say to you." I asked, still laying on the couch, facing the ceiling.
He turned around, an odd look on his face. "About what?"
I shrugged. "I tend to say things I don't mean to say when I'm high. I was just wondering if I said anything too weird."
He laughed quietly. "Well, you did confess your love to me."
I shot up out of my laying position to look at him. "Come again?!"
He laughed harder, his musical laugh giving me chills. "I'm having a laugh, Brinley." He poured the box of mac and cheese into a pot, while I calmed down from my near heart attack. "You said nothing too weird, for you at least."
He smiled at me over his shoulder for a split second, but it would last forever in my memory. I glanced over at my journal, placed on the coffee table in front of the sofa. I grabbed it, opening to a clean page after finding a pen.
I wonder if my eyes told you the things my heart wishes I said.
