~H~
It's unfair, unjustified, as to how a mortal can cast an ethereal glow. Is it even plausible for a single soul to impart such beauty, such youth, such innocence- and yet be the only one to cause this thunder inside my traitorous heart? Eros would be envious of him, I believe, for I have never seen one like him before.
Everything fades away into nothing when he enters a room. An imaginary spotlight shining atop his head, giving him the attention he deserves. But again, my heart tugs upon witnessing the adoration everyone holds toward him, for he should be mine and mine alone to adore and cherish.
His eyes shine brighter than the sun. The stars shy away from his light. The ocean longs to lick his feet. The wind is spellbound upon kissing his skin.
Oh, the wind! How envious I am of an element. For it gets to kiss him while my hands are bound.
His presence is a warm kiss from spring, delighting even the wilting flower. And his absence- it makes me feel blue.
-
Harry closed his notebook after he had the words penned down and placed it back inside the drawer. His thoughts were consumed by Louis, and Louis alone, day and night without a fail.
The boy was his muse, his inspiration. He felt alive in his presence, felt a confidence he had always somewhat lacked in himself. And now that Louis was not around, was merely a house away, his mind was stressed.
Shouldn't smoke so early in the day. He reprimanded himself but continued to take a drag from the cigar between his fingers. His legs carried him to the backyard and then near the pool. The image of Louis swimming in the same pool was still fresh in his memory, burning behind his eyelids as he closed his eyes.
He shook his head as he reopened his eyes, making his way over to sit on a chair and let the smoke carry his worries away.
He had came to terms with his feeling, couldn't deny them anymore, but planned to never act on them. Accepting his feelings had opened another sea of problems for him. Even the smallest of actions from the boy got buried deep into his mind; he could write sonnets and novels about just his freckles, let alone anything else.
Only if there weren't thirteen years between them.
He was pulled out of his thoughts as he heard the grass crunching beneath approaching footsteps. He knew it wasn't Louis, recognised the sound of his light feet.
"There you are," Eliott smiled and took a seat beside him, "A little early to be smoking, isn't it?"
He shrugged and tapped the cigar to let the ash fall off before offering it to Eliott who took a drag and handed it back.
"Got to thinking," he answered vaguely.
"About?" His tone was cautious and Harry knew he got the wrong idea.
"Don't worry, it's just about my novel," he reassured. He didn't blame Eliott to be cautious as he might as well have been blaming himself again for the death of his family.
"Lacking inspiration?"
"More like too much inspired."
"And your muse is?"
"The loveliest person I ever had the joy of meeting," Harry smiled at the mere mention of him.
Eliott stayed quite for a while, both of them passing the cigar back and forth. "I hope this person is worth stressing over."
YOU ARE READING
The Epiphany of Us (Larry AU)
Fanfiction[Complete] It was the summer of 1984 when Harry inherited his grandfather's estate and wealth. San Gimignano was a Tuscan village in Italy where he decided to move for final. That was it, that was where he would love, marry and live. His professor f...
