Keeper

Chapter 37

Maybe I'm just odd but I like to think of the average human life like ink from a pen. Spewing out many beautiful, preposterous encounters whilst also spitting out distasteful lies and subsequent austerities. I find that our words and dishonoring remarks can never be erased nor forgotten once told, but they can always be redeemed; rewritten, crossed out to start anew.

I find that a pen is bold; fearless.

It makes marks it knows it can never erase.

It is not afraid to take risks.

I also find the holder of a pen to be all of these things, along with the bearer of the holders marks as well.

And I'd like to think that this is the very reason why I have always had such a strange infatuation with tattoos.

Whenever I'm with Harry time doesn't really seem to matter.

What feels like mere seconds are actually extended periods of time and countless minutes when we talk. When he tells me stories of his past and I listen. And that's exactly how it was that lone day in the darkroom. It was the first day we really sat down with each other; the first day we completely lost track of time engrossed in each other.

Well, that and the petty fact that the room itself was poorly designed.

There was no bell.

I remember my eyes becoming heavy and incredibly strained; a sign I have been told countless times is caused by residing in a pitch black room for too long.

"Do you know what time it is?" I asked with a yawn, picking my head up off of Harry's shoulder.

"No clue." He sighed, mimicking my previous action by then resting his own head on my shoulder. He nuzzled his cheek into my collarbone. His skin was warm; the light stubble ticklish.

"How long do you think we've been in here?" He asked.

I bit my lip and glanced around, my eyes moving in the direction of something bright. The big bold, red lettering of an electric clock stung my eyes.

"The clock reads one-thirty."

Then he picked his head up.

"Two hours. We've been in here for two hours. Last period ends at 2:10, so that means-"

"We can just stay in here."

"We've been in here for far too long, much longer than than I intended. The bell rings in five for last period. You-we can still go. Plus, it's not really good to be in the dark for-"

"Let's stay." I cut in. My voice was soft but nonetheless it made Harry stop his conjunction of sentences.

"Is that you want?" He asked.

I couldn't help but laugh as I interlocked our arms.

"It's what I want."

I could feel Harry's chest vibrate as he too, began to laugh.

"Then alright."

After that everything became quiet and still. Harry's breathing acted like a clock, every exhale he took, a second would pass. And the clock would tick along with him.

"I have a question," Harry spoke in the midst of the silence. I was glad because the muted space around us was becoming a bit overbearing.

"What?"

"Your birthday -When is it?"

"March eighth. What about you?

"May twenty-sixth."