The ABC's of Loving You [ Tomarry

Telescope

Telescope;
an optical instrument designed to make distant objects appear nearer, containing an arrangement of lenses, or of curved mirrors and lenses, by which rays of light are collected and focused and the resulting image magnified.

—

Tom is a stargazer and Harry is the stars.

His fascination only made sense after he died.

I guess this is kind of angst with a happy ending? It's more like angst beginning with a happy middle and end though

In saying that... major character death. No, I won't explain myself

1940!AU, God!Harry, Non-Magic!AU.

This is slow burn for me, I'm actually proud of how I managed to do that

A lot of Tom's and Harry's dynamics in this is due to what they're the gods of.

The POV switches between Tom and Harry in the breaks.

Also!!! Harry's omniscient in this because he's a god. Gods in this story don't experience time in the exact same way, so Harry knows about modern times

I had another story almost finished, got writers block, erased that story, got a new idea, got writers block, then slowly wrote it. It's been a rollercoaster

—

It was a cold winter night, Tom's breath fanning in front of him like dense fog.

He was sitting on a wooden chair in front of the only window in his single room, letting the moonlight shine in. A throw blanket, one of the only two that he had, was wrapped around him tightly in effort to keep him warm.

It was midnight. He should be sleeping. He'd be a lot warmer in bed. But, it was a beautiful night. Excellent stargazing conditions.

For a young man, the amount that Tom stargazed was considered abnormal. He should be interested in girls, or fighting in the war.

Tom was definitely not a pacifist, but somewhere in his mind he knew that mortal problems weren't his own. The threat of war was overbearing, yet he never found it intriguing.

It freaked out his peers.

Tom was newly seventeen, almost finished his secondary education. Even though men were eighteen when drafted into the war, a majority of young boys would lie about their age to serve. Considering Tom was currently the only male above the age of fourteen in Wool's, he didn't share the same desire.

Because of this, he was called aloof. A coward. Unintelligent. A traiter.

Which was far from the truth. Tom was the top of his class, the head boy who wasn't scared of public speaking, and he definitely knew his loyalties.

He just wasn't sure whether his loyalties were earthly.

The obligation he felt to gaze upon the stars was definitely a sense of loyalty for him. Granted, his perception of emotions were probably quite different from others, but he didn't mind. It was real to him, and who's to say that reality isn't what he perceives to be true?

It wasn't like this obligation was a hardship. The stars were the most lovely thing in the universe to Tom. They were so very... reliable. They were always there, and shining, and bright, and twinkling. Beautiful.

He could spend hours tracing patterns in the dark sky, near worship in the softness of his dark eyes. That was his true loyalty. So what, if his loyalty wasn't to Britain?

A yawn started in the back of Tom's throat, and his eyes drifted to the alarm clock on the table in front of him. It read 3:43am.

Sighing, he got out of the chair, making his way to the twin bed on the other side of the room. The bed creaked as he sat down, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he drifted off.