Letter thirteen

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Dear Harry,

I sat in your hospital room all day. Your mom stayed with me and told me to spend the night at home for once. I declined.

Sometimes I creep into your bed and lie next to you. I have trouble sleeping without you. Do you even feel me when I lie with you?

I was looking out the window and I saw a shooting star. It was the second time I've seen one. Both times I've been with you.

The first time I wished to marry you.

This time I wished you'd wake up.

Reason number 13: shooting stars.

Love always,

Your Louis.

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