A Boy Named Harry

Chapter 6

OKAY GUYS. I JUST REALLY WANT TO THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON THIS STORY. I FEEL LIKE IT'S COMING ALONG BEAUTIFULLY. CHAPTER 6!! I HOPE YOU ALL CONTINUE TO STICK AROUND FOR MORE AND SHARE IT. THANK YOU SO MUCH. I REALLY LOVE THIS STORY AND I'M EXCITED TO SEE WHERE IT TAKE ME.

Harry has now become accustomed to how things are. He understands why Candance is around, really. She's been around more often as I get weaker. Things looked hopeful for me, but now they are going downhill. I'm soon to meet up with Doc to talk about my prognosis and my last options. Being as how things are going, I almost don't want to try anything else. I may just very well let the cancer take me without a fight, I don't have any left.

Harry has stayed by my side throughout this week, as it's been especially rough. I've had a lot of trouble breathing and now don't even have the strength to wheel my chair myself. Candance has been much help, though. Doc is looking at admitting me back into the hospital, but that would mean being away from Harry. I know my time is coming, it will be at any time, now. I'm just afraid, now. I accepted my death before, but that wasn't when Harry was in the picture.

"Harry, tell me something," I say looking up at the ceiling, Harry laying right next to me on my bed.

"Yeah, kid."

"Make sure my funeral is awesome. Like a giant party. Like the Sweet 16 or something I never had," I smiled at the thought. I always wanted a real birthday party, and maybe once I was dead I would have the chance.

"I'm not gonna do that, Lou. That would defeat the purpose of the word funeral," he joked. Harry has kept things light when he knew they weren't.

"But what if it wasn't a funeral. We could change the name."

"To what? A FUNeral?" We both laughed. It was tiring to laugh, but I did it.

"No, that's too obvious. Maybe more of an extravaganza."

"Always so flamboyant, aren't you, Lou?" Harry turned to me and smiled.

"Me? I'm pretty sure you're the one who likes boys, remember?" He smiled and looked at his hands. We hadn't talked about it much since that one time he told me, but it's not like we weren't comfortable mentioning it.

"Yeah... I do."

"Harry," the room grew still. "I'm really cold." My voice shook and my throat clumped up.

"Do you want me to get you another blanket, Lou?" He sat up and his face filled with worry.

"No, I don't think it will work. Can you just-can you just hold me, for right now?" It was a strange request, but his body was warm. A blanket wouldn't compare.

"Of course, kid." He scotched in closer to me, scooping me in his arms. He held me tight and warmed up my arms with his hands. He wasn't even cold himself, and I knew the room was warm. I kept turning up the heat to help the cold feeling, but eventually the house was 80 degrees and everyone else was sweating.

I began to cry, I knew it had to be coming soon. The thought of dying in Harry's arms was comforting, but I wasn't ready. I wanted to know him more, there was still so much about him I didn't know.

"Harry, it's soon."

"No, it's not, Lou. Stop talking like that. You're fine," I knew Harry was losing hope as well. In these past few weeks he's known me he's watched me fall apart and become fragile.

"No. Harry. It's coming. And there's nothing either of us can do about it. Just, please. Don't try to tell me it's not. I just, I want you to know how much your friendship has meant to me since I met you." Neither of us looked at each other. I could feel his heartbeat with my head on his chest. A tear ran down my eye as I knew at any moment mine was no longer going to do that and I could no longer hear his. I put my hand up to his heart to feel it. I could feel the wet spot on his shirt from my tears.

"I'm sorry, Lou," I could feel his words through his body.

"I know, Haz." It was a name I had come up with, and only I called him.

Harry held me there for a while. He held me tighter every time I shivered. He made sure I was warm at all times, and him surrounding me was so serene. He intertwined his fingers through my hair and played with it to warm up the blood flow in my head. Harry took good care of me. He made me feel safe and secure. In that moment, Harry was possibly the best thing to happen to me, and from then on he was . I think this was really the moment that I knew how I felt.

"Lou," I could hear his voice shaking. Some tears had fallen onto my head. "I want you to know something before it happens. Because," he stopped. It was quiet and we both held onto each other. "Because I couldn't go on if you didn't know before..before you...before," he stopped and began sobbing. I could hear him gasp for air. It made me wonder if Harry had ever lost someone before and if I was the first.

"I know what you mean. You don't have to say it. I can barely say it myself," I wish I could stop crying, but we were both a mess.

I could then feel his hand lower from my head. He was slow, and steady, almost as if he was trying not to break me. He rubbed his thumb on my cheek and I brushed into it. The feeling was special and warming. I opened my eyes and looked up into his. Both of us smiling slightly, both of us just staring at each other. His eyes were glossy, but it was if they were sparkling. His nose was red and he was still breathing heavy. We both laid there for a while, not speaking, not moving, just still. Our gaze never unlocked for several minutes. He slowly moved in, I almost didn't notice it at first. But once I did he was half way into me, and I didn't want it to stop. He looked at my lips and I knew what was going to happen.

Pressing into me so softly, I knew he wasn't kissing me as hard as he could. My heart fluttered and my eyes flickered before closing and giving into the kiss. I was too weak to reciprocate when I wanted to so badly, but Harry continued knowing. Harry slightly pulled away and I whimpered.

"I don't want to hurt you, Lou. You're so weak." He was still shaking from crying.

"It's okay, Haz. I don't care if I hurt." I smiled at him. He once again met his lips to mine and instantly it was like life was breathed into me. He was still so soft and careful with me. He never tried to enter his tongue or move his hands from my cheek and his side. He was gentle and it was beautiful. Harry, my sweet Harry. Before this moment I didn't imagine him as anything other than the friend I had made at the hospital, the friend who had helped me these past weeks. But now, I couldn't imagine him as anything other than why I continued to fight.