28 Minutes

6:16

I become acutely aware of the sounds around me after the feather of a touch to my hand. The insects buzz and chirp around us in a private song. The wind whistles in harmony with bugs, swelling and breathing out in a beautiful crescendo and decrescendo.

The sound that is the most beautiful to my ears, however, is that of Harry's breathing. I have this theory that humans forget that breathing makes sounds until you truly notice someone. You don't notice someone's quiet breaths until you truly see them. That's when you realize the wonderful song that keeps them alive.

Harry's song is one of the prettiest I've ever heard. The tinest of huffs escape him as he sits next to me. A change in his steady song tells me that he's opened his mouth. That, maybe, he needs more air. I turn to him and see that I'm right. That his lips are parted the smallest bit to allow more air to escape him. It's beautiful.

I listen to his breathing for thirty seconds. I can't help myself. I watch as he takes breath after breath. I watch as his breathing becomes a little faster as I'm caught looking at him. The song changes a bit as he presses his lips together and smiles.