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Love and Four Letter Words

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It’s quiet in his room. It’s quiet and empty, with white walls and white floors that remind him of his own head. White, blank, empty, vacant, and slue of other words that all mean the opposite of right. Everything is so white and so clean; its like falling into emptiness and He can barely breathe. His life is a metaphor of vacancy and, god, he’s a shit poet. In other words Harry's life sucks. He’s 19, living at home, and going absolutely nowhere. He hasn't picked up a pen in weeks, because he can’t find the words to plaster to the page. It’s been a month since he’s even been outside and he just wants to bleed into his bed and melt into the white walls all around him.

“Haza, babe it’s been a month”, His mom sighs, shaking him awake. He opens his eyes and meets her sad gaze. All of a sudden he’s back to twelve years old, watching his dad drive away as his mom cries at the table. Everything’s fuzzy, but it’s there and it makes his chest ache. This is the look she had when he left, Harry thinks, And it nearly makes him sick.

“I’m working the late shift tonight, so I wont be home until morning.” But promise me you’ll go outside for a bit. Please?” And she sounds so desperate, so defeated, and Harry can’t stand it. Can’t stand that he made her feel like she’s failed, so he nods. He kisses her cheek and gets out of bed, and, well, that’s that.

He takes a shower that burns he skin down to bone and relishes in the scalding hot water, brushes his teeth and gets dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, pulling a sweater over his head as a second thought. While he pulls on his shoes, he contemplates life and even he agrees he needs human contact.

The air is cold on his skin, chills his face and blows through his bones. He breathes in slowly and his lungs feel like they’re freezing over all together. His blood’s running cold through his veins and he can hear his heart beat in his ears, a while entire month, and he feels like the sky is falling down on top of him.

Grass is actually quite disgusting, he decides. Grass is disgusting and the world is cold but the air around him is crisp and clean with the promise of snow and its such a contrast from his white walls that his mind feels like its exploding. Phrases of life and being pieced together and pulled apart, all synonyms of bitter and beautiful but they just don’t fit. Then he sees the definition of beauty sat on a swinging porch swing.

The boy is reading, legs folded delicately beneath him and feather brown hair being whisked side to side by the wind, he tugs his beanie further over his ears and laughs at something on the pages of his book. Harry doesn't think he's ever seen someone so beautiful in his life. He has a sort of easy grace to him, Harry notices, a sort of effortless beauty that girls try for years to perfect And something about that scares the shit out of harry because all he's ever been is clumsy and worried and just all over unappealing.

The way the light washes over the boy makes him look like something on a movie screen, and Harry's brain short circuits and an explosion of colors sets of inside of his head, once whitewalls turning an array of every color imaginable and Harry can't help but laugh because he's just staring at the boy and How weird is that but he hasn't felt so alive in months. Obviously, Since subtlety is not Harry's strong suit, The boy glances over and smiles the most blinding smile he's ever seen and Harry returns it effortlessly. The boy brings his hand up in a wave and Harry's heart jumps like it's won some bloody prize at the county fair, but harry lifts his hand in greeting nonetheless and finds himself getting up, and walking over to where the boy's sat.

" Hi, M'Harry" He says, looking into bright blue eyes " I'm Louis" The boy smiles back, and Harry can't help the smile that graces his face when the boy mumbles an "oops" when he drops the book he'd just been reading. Harry Bends to pick it up, and flips it over slowly, drags his hand across it's surface as his eyes read over the title that reads a simple phrase that feels somewhat like a promise "Love and Four Letter Words"