Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
summary: in which; new lenses provide Harry with a newfound perspective, one that is filled with your appreciation and interminable acceptance—two things anyone would die for.
trigger warnings: self-deprecation, sexual content, mature themes.
word count: 16k
includes: high school AU, fluff, masturbation (male receiving), thigh fucking, mention and loss of virginity, vaginal penetration, cock riding, written in second person.
disclaimer: this is the continuation (part 2) of '𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞'
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
Harry never could have imagined meeting someone like you—let alone being with someone like you.
Someone who completely turned his world around; alternated his universe and placed him under direct sunlight—which could be represented as your admiration, your never-ending acceptance. The morning sun was something he now saw often, feeling as though he was bathed in warmth constantly. It doused him in saccharine-sweet pleasures. However, the golden auras could never compare to your love.
There was never a cloud in the sky, your sunny smile dissociating any tempests threatening to clash with his sail. He orbited around you, clung to your side just as the smile clung to the full of his kissed lips whenever near your dreamy aura. Bathed in your vivaciousness, Harry was surrounded by an estuary of sinuous amorousness. You were a gift, one which Harry would never stop appreciating.
A gift which, when unwrapping, Harry would find himself cherishing delicate paper. Tracing its intricate designs with the pad of his thumb, fingertips dancing over its pattern. Your beauty marks placed so perfectly; the freckles surrounding your cheeks, intensifying when your face is imbued with a pink hue he adores more than life; the jaggedly soft lines of growth on your thighs, so intricate under his touch; the dimples at the bottom of your spine, so warm against Harry's chest, whenever he was fortunate enough to press himself against you.
He could never imagine tearing that paper, unwrapping you like an unwanted birthday gift.
He adored you—being in your presence, listening to your rambles, and absorbing any information you gave him. Things you hadn't shared with any other soul, finding comfort in his sweet presence and knowing he wanted to hear more about your days. More about anything, really—you both knew that the green-eyed boy would listen to you chat about anything for hours on end, as he had multiple times before. Nevertheless, whether severe or frivolous, your recounting of days was his favourite part of his.
When something delightful happened, you couldn't wait to tell him about it, knowing he would share your enthusiasm and shower your excitement-flushed cheeks with kisses. When something upsetting occurred, Harry never hesitated to express his thoughts on the situation, giving you a unique outlook on what could otherwise be a skewed perception.
