VALERIE

EPILOGUE

Copyright © zylgnagnab 2013

April, 2014

London, UK

Harry’s POV

Love is the easiest emotion to feel, yet the most difficult to control. It’s the most powerful aspect of an individual’s entire being. It consumes you. It controls your thinking. It can even transform you into a different person. It drives out other emotions within you to the surface. Hope, patience, mercy, compassion, happiness, sorrow, anger, and jealousy—are just few of other emotions that falls under the greatest of them all, LOVE.

When you feel it, it’s always the one that dominates over every rational thought hidden in the compartments of your brain. In fact, you couldn’t even think rationally when you’re in love.

Your judgments will always be affected with the strong feeling that you feel towards this person. Everything you do will be influenced by thoughts of her.

Things as simple as choosing the colour of your wallpaper, way of brewing coffee, choice of music or movie, and the like are just some of the considerations one would take in order to please the person they love. One can even tolerate the other person’s bad habit—that whenever other people do it, it drives you crazy or fucking pissed—just because you love this person. One is able to do things unimaginable just for the sake of love. It drives you fool in front of other people but you could only care less because who matters most is the one you love.

If you aren’t able to feel and experience all these even once in your life, then you aren’t a sane person. Everyone feels and everyone loves. If someone claims that they are numb to these feelings, then they’re one big liar. It’s part of breathing. It’s one way of concluding that we do exist. We are living.

“Harry!” I hear her call from the other side of the room.

Stumbling on my own feet, I hop with one leg as I pull on my boot with the other foot, pressing on the edge of the bed to support my stance. I jog towards the source of the sound quite frantically, knowing how much time is left before we leave.

“What is it this time?” I ask once I step inside the walk-in closet. Sighing, I scratch my forehead when I see her slumped on the carpeted floor, heaps of various clothes surrounding her half-naked body.

“I don’t know what to wear!” Her face is contorted to an adorable frown as she whines, tossing a shirt unenthusiastically in front of her after just picking it up. “I don’t fit in any of my old clothes anymore.” She adds and I see the crystal tears are already starting to form at the corners of her eyes.

“Hey, baby…” I coo, breathing softly as I stagger upon the scattered clothes to get to her. I quickly kneel in front of her, wiping the tears in her eyes with my thumb as I grab her hand with my other one. “It’s okay. We’re going shopping after your class, okay? We’re changing your whole wardrobe.”

“No. I can still wear them when I go back to my old body.” She lets out a little chuckle to herself as she squeezes my hand. “Let’s face it, Harry. I’m fat.” She tells me, her glossy brown eyes boring into mine as she smiles weakly at me.

“Hey,” I cup her cheek with my hand, my thumb stroking her skin in an attempt to comfort her. “How many times do I have to tell you? You aren’t fat okay? You just gained weight. That’s all.”

Truth be told, she did get fat but not like Fat Amy fat. Her arms and legs just became fleshier over the past few days because of her uncontrollable appetite and sleepiness most of the time. She doesn’t fit in all her jeans and in her tight dresses anymore which is a struggle for her to accept. But honestly, she is a lot sexier compared to other females who are three-weeks pregnant. People can barely notice her small baby bump.