He hadn't left. Strange. Everyone always leaves. Harry hasn't. Hes been with me all day, we went to the library and he now holds a book in his hand that he says he will read and return tomorrow. I brought him a coffee and he brought me a muffin when i wasn't looking. His arm was linked with mine for most the day, we never left eachothers side.
We now sat outside a coffee shop with our 4th coffee of the day. He was scribbling down words on to the page as I read the book he had got out.
"Can you read this?" He asked shoving the book under my nose. I smiled and nodded my head taking the book from him.
I saw the best minds
of my generation:
destroyed by madness
starving hysterical naked
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
(looking for an angry fix)
angelheaded hipsters
burning for the ancient
heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo
in the machinery of the night
[ᴀɴ!! ᴛʜɪs ᴘᴏᴇᴍ ᴡᴀs ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ʙʏ ᴀʟʟᴇɴ ɢɪɴsʙᴇʀɢ!! ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɢᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴘᴏᴇᴍs!! ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀɴ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪғᴜʟ ᴘᴏᴇᴛ! ɪᴍ ᴀʙsᴏʟᴜᴛᴇʟʏ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ!! ᴏғᴄ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴋᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴀʀʀʏ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ʟᴍᴀᴏ]
it was beautiful! I looked back up at him and he was playing with his sleeve nervously.
"its absolutely beautiful harry!" I said softly. He looked up at me and smiled shyly
"you think so?" he asked. I smiled and nodded my head handing him back his book. The sound of thunder echoed from the distance harry looked up at the sky angrily
"We better get home, its 10. and we also dont wanna be caught up in the storm" I said standing and throwing down cash for the waiter to pick up. harry bit the inside of his lip
"I'm not aloud in my apartment. My roommate has a friend over. he asked me not to be back until midnight" harry informed me spinning his pen between his fingers. I looked up at the sky, this was going to be one hell of a storm and it was moving in quick. I looked down at the smaller man and held out my hand
"then, by all means, spend the night with me. I'll make you a bed and you can keep warm" I said. His eyes went wide that I had suggested such a thing. his shock soon disappeared and a look of playfulness filled in his beautiful features
"but that would mean giving away the poets secret spot where he writes all his fascinating series of feelings" he said dramatically. I laughed and held my hand out closer to him
"please dear sir. the poet would love to take the other poet away. keep him warm and sheltered from the horrific storm coming" I replied. he looked at my hand as if it was a life or death situation. I mean it could be if I was a physco killer. Unfortunately I'm not. Maybe you all would find this next part more fascinating if I was. Or maybe if I were to be a vampire, living my life taking the beautiful men off the streets. Sorry for your loss, but I'm just a lover.
He took my hand and interlocked his fingers with mine, once again that overwhelming feeling spread through my body and my heart was beating louder and louder as we started to walk. I'm surprised he didnt hear it. Maybe it would be better if he could, he would know what he's doing to me.
He didnt seam to mind the 20 minute walk out of town at all. In all honesty I expected him to be looking around the scenery, drawing a photo in his mind of how to get to my house so he could expose me to the public, burn my house to the ground. But no. he was reading his book, holding and turing pages with his right hand as his left hand held onto mine tightly. we had only met this morning but it felt like a lifetime, maybe we can make it one.
by the time we reached the stone bath to my house the rain was pouring down on us -he had put his book back into his bag before this- we were both had water dripping from our hair and clothing. i unlocked the front door and pulled him in. ollie came running full speed down the stairs again as I started the fire. harry took off his coat and placed it on one of the hooks beside the door before standing behind me.
"nice place" he commented looking around. I smiled, there was one room in this house I knew he would love the most. maybe I'll show him in the morning? or tonight if we cant keep a conversation. ollie walked up to harry and sat down looking at harry like harry was the most fascinating thing in the world. to me harry is, so I cant judge.
harry sat on the floor next to ollie and started patting him. ollie barked happily and licked Harry's face, getting his glasses covered in saliva.
"oh ollie!" I complained picking him up as harry cleaned off his glasses. ollie licked my face as I put him down and went running back up the stairs again
"hes adorable" harry said putting his glasses back on. I smiled and sat beside him shrugging. harry smiled and moved closer to the fire, closer to me. we didnt talk. we just enjoyed having the over one there.
"what kind of poetry do you write?" he asked glancing at me.
"ahhh... romance I guess" I mumbled.
"can I read them?" no. no is what i wanted to say but i didnt. again this is a choice that impacted my life tremendously. I handed him my note book where my poems about him were written and left to make us a cup of tea.
when I came back he was still reading them, his cheeks tinted pink and a small smile on his face. I placed his cup beside him and sat back down beside him again. the only moving he done was to turn a page. I felt awkward sitting there as the man beside me read many poems that were all based on him. I'm more than sure he knew this.
after what felt like forever he shut the book and stared at me.
"is everything in here.... about me?" he asked softly. I nodded my head refusing to look at him. he gently touched the side of my face and pulled my head around to look at him. he didnt say anything, his cold lips slowly found their way to mine. again maybe this is all just a dream? never once has he paid any attention to me, and now I'm ment to believe that his beautiful pink lips are pressed against mine?
he pulled away and crawled into my lap wrapping his legs loosely around me and his arms around my torso.
YOU ARE READING
Hopeless romantics || drarry
Fanfiction"I watched him again. Was this creepy and very abnormal? Yes. But this boy was different. And I wanted to somehow find out how different he really is" Harry James Potter: 21 year old poet and book writer, although he has never sold one book or poem...
