Outfits for this chapter
http://www.polyvore.com/sparrows_marines_outfit_chapter_17/set?id=108051926
http://www.polyvore.com/sparrows_chapter_17_electras_outfit/set?id=108083203
play song when suggested.
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He wrote me a letter.
I am sitting on this damn couch and I cannot move, my hands shake as I try to keep the letter intact. He doesn’t want to see me. I am having trouble grasping that. I don’t know what to even think or why it is I am emotional about it.
Harry is one of those people who are perceived as perfect. His looks, his education, his popularity, he has it all. But yet, he is so lost, probably ready to explode at any minute. But his honesty with me is refreshing, I like that I can be the person he can be sad with. It’s disturbingly obsessive. I would rather be with someone messed up and open about it then someone perfect and about to break, and Harry has been somewhat open with me since I met him.
I shoot my eyes wide open, trying to suck in my tears back into myself, slapping myself on the hand for once more losing myself in a boy, him possessing my emotions. I hate that he does this to me, because I am not a crier, but I have been recently and I am pissing myself off.
I am too emotionally drained from the calligraphy and as well, might I say, Harry’s excellent penmanship, so I store my first letter in an old leather box I have no use to, to come back to it again. Harry’s address is on the envelope, so I agree to send him a reply when the time is right.
To calm myself, I search through my tall shelves to find a collection of philosophies; I call my big, fat philosophy book, one dear to my heart. I begin to read. I scan through the book to see a highlighted sentence.
“To live is to suffer; to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.”
I flip through a few pages to see a line that sticks out to me
“What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love.”
The quotes draw me back to Harry, the suffering I fear to be around him, the heart ache I may endure, and the contradictory thoughts of “ am I ready to open myself up to him?” do I even have the ability to love? I don’t know, I don’t feel safe around him, and I can’t distinct if that is a good thing or a bad thing yet.
My brooding and study is interrupted with a banging on my door. Without waiting for an answer from me, the door shoots open, Louis walking in, making himself at home.
“Marine, I need to ask a favor.” Ugh here we go again.
“ What now.” I reply blankly. I am not in the mood for his shit.
“ You know Niall right?” he asks
YOU ARE READING
Sparrows
Fanfiction"one day you fall for this boy, and he touches you with his fingers.And he burns holes in your skin with his mouth.And it hurts when you look at him, and it hurts when you don't. And it feels like someone's cut you open with a jagged piece of glass...
