the journal - h.s.

24

I was back in my appartment. It was morning and it was that perfect moment of my day again. The fragile sunbeams, which were weak this time of the year, still managed to crawl sluggishly in through the window pane and reach us here on the mattress.

Legs entwined and barely awake. Half asleep, half aware and half naked. But maybe this was the every exact state, one had to be in - in order to be able to contain that much pure joy and peacefulness.

I didn’t really believe in there being any God - but I would like to believe that if a heaven did exist, it would be something remotely close to this right here. I couldn't imagine a more quiet, harmonius moment - or a more pure, raw and beautiful feeling than this one right here.

Even though the mist created on the window pane whispered fearful stories of the coldness outside, we felt warm and safe in here. In the sunshine and with the grey duvet half covering us. On a simple mattress on the floor in my tiny appartment. You didn't need luxury to be perfectly happy. All you needed was that one other person, which you fitted with more perfectly than what seemed earthly.

My head against the pillow, I simply just lay there and watched the brown curls of his, which created endless calming patterns. He wasn't facing me - but it hardly meant anything. As long as he was there.

With one hand under my head and the other against his back, I felt placid. Lightly letting my index finger draw childish, innocent figures over his tan, soft skin on his bare back. His breathing was slow, heavy and so calm I knew he felt the same as me. That he now shared my most perfect moment of any - this had to be the most breathtaking one of all the days I had ever lived. This moment. Right here with him.

Slowly he came to life with each invisible drawn line I created over his flawless skin with my light touch. As my finger moved over the slender back muscles, which moved steadily in pace with his breathing, it left a slight comfortable tickle as the trail dragged him from his sleep.

Still with his eyes closed he turned over slowly, keeping those green eyes hidden from me. Only making me crave the sight of them further. To see that familiar green color, which I knew only belonged to him. He put one arm under his head and pulled me closer with the other, eyes still closed as if he was afraid this was merely a dream.

Two human beings laying there. Perfectly still. In what seemed as the infinity of the reason to live. This moment. This. Right here.

Looking up through eyelashes I studied his features, fascinated. My eyes flickering over them with such awe, that I could do nothing but watch him. Watch how his lips created that soft line seeming so relaxed, how the shadow under his jaw made it appear sharper. How his skin was perfectly smooth, in that way telling me nothing troubled him. That made my heart lighter. His bed hair was messier than ever, as he just simply lay there not knowing he resembled an angel in more ways than what seemed possible.

“Harry?” My voice sounded hoarse from the sleep and I spoke with such tenderness, that it resembled this moment.

Suddenly his eyes flew open, but not in the way I had craved them to do. Not carefully and sleepily, as if he had to be careful in order not to be too shocked with the new day greeting him. As if he had to fight to open them. No this wasn’t the way he reacted to my questioning tone, which had left his name hanging in the air. Instead his eyelids flew up and he moved from his position, pushing me away in the progress. Disgusted.

What startled me the most was the unnatural eye color. It wasn’t the deep comfortable green, which had reminded me of forests - those places deep into a forest where you could actually believe no other human being had ever been before you. That green color of the leaves, which would move silently in the breeze high above you as a shelting roof.

No this green was darker. It was a sickly poisoned kind of green - and so was the look in his eyes.

The chills covered my body, as the adrenaline started pumping desperately through my body.

The way his cold glance locked with mine. The way he pushed himself even further away as if filled with loathe. The way his features hardened into an almost painful grimace. As his full lips parted I could hardly breathe. His harsh words so filled with hatred, I literally felt my heart shatter into a thousand pieces.

“Stop fucking interrogating me!”

The bellow echoing through my mind woke me up. Sweat covering my forehead and the adrenaline still scaringly present in my every vein. My breathing was heavy as I searched the mattress - but it was empty except for me. The duvet was tangled uncomfortably around my legs in an almost strangling manner, which told me I had been turning a lot through out the night.

As my subconscious impossibly slowly started to accept it had merely been a dream - a dream which had turned into a nightmare, I had to close my eyes trying to calm myself further. On the inside of my eyelids I could see them though - hear his raspy cold voice so clearly, that new chills ran down my spine. The dark green poisoned color, which had filled out what before had been such beautiful eyes. In the dream they had been terrible. Horrifying. And… so filled with rage. Disgust. Anger.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried remembering the very last events of the night before…

Please vote & comment.x

a/n: aaaaahhhhh so nervous for your reaction to this honestly. hope I didn't scare anybody off with this lol. no but please stay? pic of sleepy, cute Harry +teddybear in the sidebar. aaaahhhh.

& ehm.. sorry for the lack of conversation in this chappie but like.. yeah. didn't really fit in ... but it'll come!!!

{and to make it clear - everything with harry in this chapter was a dream.}