speak | minishaw

17

Harry walks home feeling lots of different things, Simon had hurt Callux, whe it wasn't even anything to do with him, he was angry at Harry, he should be the one with the cut face.

More cut than it is anyway.

He opens the door to an empty home, walking slowly up the stairs. Tried mentally and physically, his aching bones needed a rest, today has been to much for Harry.

He opened his door and his bag skipped off of his shoulder, the weight from his bag lifted off of him, he opened his window and let some warmth in, as the room was very cool. He looked over at the mirror, and looked at his reflection.

"Fuck me," he mumbles to himself.

"Gladly," he hears a voice from next to him, he looks over, there stood in his door way, was Simon. Harry mouth was wide open, how? He has never told him where he lived, how the hell did he find his address.

"What are you doing here?"

"I followed you home, I know that songs creepy, but I wanted to talk to you."

"Ok then."

Simons eyes flick to the window, as Harry catches his drift, he climbs through first, Simon getting a view of Harry's behind as they both sit down on the tiled roof, looking down at the busy Main Street of their city.

"Great home you know," Simon adds as they look around.

"It's okay I guess," Harry replies back.

"Trust me, I would love to live here instead of where I live, my neighbourhood is so many levels of danger." Simon shakes his head as he rubs the back of his neck, he groans, as he digs into the skin.

"What's wrong with your neck?" Harry asks.

"Just a little pain, from the fight, Callux grabbed my neck."

Harry scoots behind Simon, opening his legs as he places them each side of Simons waist, his soft hands touch Simons neck, as he begins to massages him and release the pain, Simons head tips back slightly, as the pain gets released from his neck.

"You have soft hands," Simon smiles. He leans his head back so his eyes are looking up at Harry's, they both stay silent.

"I don't want to talk about that right now, I wanna address something else." Simon frowns and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Sure."

"Why did you hurt Callux, if you were mad at me."

Simon sighs as he leans backwards, his head in now in Harry's chest, Harry starts to play with his hair, running his fingers through the blonde mess.

"I didn't want to hurt you." Simon asters truthfully.

"It isn't his fault." Harry softly rubs his finger in a circular pattern on Simons soft cheek.

"I know, I shouldn't have done that."

"Don't do it again, OK?" Harry asks, Simin stays silent, like he didn't want to agree, because he knew that he would disobey Harry and do this again.

"I can't make any promises."

"Troye called you a dick." Harry mumbles out randomly.

"Oh yeah, Troye, your match made in heaven," Simon spits, slight anger.

"No Troye isn't for me, he's nice and all, but he doesn't seem like my type. God. I don't even have a type. I'm so confused."

Simon grabs Harry hands and intertwined them, their hands rest on Simons chest, as Simons back and head in leans on Harry's body, Harry links their legs together. In a warm embrace they both feel happy. Satisfied.