Obsessive // h.s

Lifetime

Harry spent hours pondering over the poetic letter that he found on his counter earlier. How did fan mail end up at his house? His address isn't any secret to the rest of the world, but somehow and for some reason the fans have never sent mail here before. They were probably just trying to give him his personal space, until this letter. It wasn't just any fan letter or love declaration... it was more than that. It's a poem, filled with metaphors and similes that Harry couldn't completely grasp. It's beautiful, but strange nevertheless.

As the boy starts to feel his eyelids drooping, he decides to relocate to his bedroom and try to catch some sleep. He hasn't told any of the boys, but lately he's been struggling to sleep. Something is constantly gnawing at him and he just can't seem to shake the feeling.

Walking through the door frame into his room, he immediately makes his way towards his bedside table and switches on the lamp. His fingers curl around his duvet as he pulls it back and climbs in. The mattress takes a dip as he settles his tired body in between the sheets and duvet. He turns his head and looks at the empty side of the bed, realizing that it the first time in a while that there isn't someone occupying it. Semi shut eyes flutter close as soon as his head rests onto the pillow. Air leaves his nostrils peacefully and his chest falls and rises steadily.

 ...

The stars glow, there far away in the heavens. Harry's body lies sleeping in the confines of his room, but his subconscious is far away, lost in his dreams. Harry's body rests on puffy clouds that safely keep him from falling from the heavens above. The cold temperature that once consumed the sleeping boy's body is gradually rising, like a small fire in an empty room. Suddenly he isn't that lonely anymore and his heart not as stale as he feels an angel embracing his shivering stature. A pleasant but strange feeling fills his being, the kind of feeling that he hasn't experienced in so long. Harry may constantly find himself surrounded by a sea of faces, but he feels like a lone sailor lost at sea. The stranger's cautious affection warms Harry's heart and fuels the tears that he's been holding back for too long. Harry feels safe in the arms of the angel as she caresses his tear stained cheeks and repeatedly runs her fingers through his dark locks in a calming motion. Her hymns fill Harry's ears and consume his mind. The peaceful sounds emerging from her angelic lips leads Harry into a deep slumber, she leads him to his quiet place where he can finally bask in the rest that he oh so desperately craves.

...

The sun rays fall through the open window onto the sleeping figure. Harry's curls fall across his forehead and his heart shaped lips inhale and exhale at a steady pace. For a change his palms are open and his muscular shoulders relaxed with a look of content present on his face. It's as if he is sleeping on clouds, far above any of his worries. The sleeping beauty's nose twitches as he starts to slightly stir. His sleepy eyes flutter open as he pushes himself onto his elbows. For some reason he can't help or decipher the small smile playing along his lips or the feeling hanging in the air. Like the demons packed their bags and left his apartment and like the mountains on his shoulders have turned into air, letting him breathe for the first time. The confused boy couldn't back up these feelings with memories, because when he tried to find any, he couldn't.

Why did he feel this way?

What happened between yesterday before he went to sleep and this morning when he woke up?

Similar questions run through his mind as he gets up from in between his warm sheets. His bare feet connect to the cold wooden floorboards, sending shivers through his ankles and calves. The feeling continues through his entire body and he decides to grab the grey sweater that is slung over a chair in the corner of his room. His eyes travel to the window and gaze at the grey cityscape beyond the window frame. Strangely enough Harry didn't feel like colorless view that he witnessed from his apartment, which is unusual but sincerely welcomed. The annoying sound of his ringtone fills the room and drags Harry from his self-reflecting thoughts. The song blasting from his phone only registers with him after it had reached the chorus, forcing him to hurry across the room to receive the call. Louis' name flashes across the screen which causes Harry to release a defeated sigh. His thumb swipes over the smooth surface of his phone and brings it closer to his ear.