D A M A G E D • HS

55

HARRY P.O.V

Growing up I believed in angels. I like the idea that there was a beings so perfect and beautiful watching over the world as we went about our lives.

I used to look up at the sky hoping that my eyes would catch the one's of an angel. Even though I knew in the back of my head I would never see them. I would always wish that they would see me, and they would keep me safe.

It's funny how my optimism about angels vanished the day my life changed. Any white light gleaming in my life exploded, leaving me alone in a black void.

Angels were no longer something I sought trust in. I stopped believing the stories, and the existence all together. Angels were no longer real.

I was a nonbeliever.

I was lost for all those years. It felt like life was a silent film, and I was going through the motions trying to piece together the rest.

I had no hope, I had no desire, I had no passion, I had nothing, absolutely nothing. I went through life like it was a step by step manual. I followed the list of instructions of what to do, and didn't complain.

Or at least I didn't show that I was miserable.

I looked at life through a melancholic scope. Gray and glumly, sad and wretched. Life was no longer being played in color. The only copies that were being played are in black and white, with no sound, and no happiness.

But that all changed.

The day I met a certain girl with chocolate doe eyes, my black and white life started to bleed with color again.

Arlo Steele made me not only have hope that there is a brighter light at the end of the road, but she also made me believe in angels.

Never in my life did I ever think that I would see an angel in person. I always assumed they stayed hidden, never to reveal themselves, but I was so wrong.

An angel let me see them in their purest form. Standing in a Heavenly glow of light purple, I laid my eyes upon my angel for the first time. She was meant for me. She felt as though she was created to guide me through life.

She is my guardian angel. My purple angel. The angel in mention is the one and only Arlo Steele.

After weeks of not catching even the smallest glimpse of her, no communication, and obvious ignoring, she's finally in front of me.

I had to blink a few times to register the fact that the person I ran into when coming back from the bar after taking a few shots is really my lovebug.

She looks so beautiful and so perfect. Her skin looks so delicate and soft, I just want to throw myself at her and capture her in a tight hug. Her lips look plump as ever and so inviting it's hard to fight the urge.

Not knowing how to go about all of this is killing me. She's right here, holy fuck she's right here.

I reach my hand up, and tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. I can't resist the urge to be closer to her than I already am. I lean down, rubbing my nose against hers.

I rest the side of my face on her cheek, and whisper in her ear. "Hi, Lo."

She smells just like her. Sweet coconut. It's amazing, wonderful, perfect. I want to smell her all day, everyday, for the rest of my life.

I pull away, making sure to graze my nose against the apple of her cheek. I settle my eyes back onto hers. She has a blank look on her face. Nothing about her is giving me any hint as to what she is thinking, or feeling.