Books I’ll Never Write #1

For Your Eyes Only (loosely based off of song lyrics I’m addicted to)

“Where do you go when home doesn’t feel like home anymore?” Harry asked and Louis wanted to say ‘you’ because Harry had been the only thing that filled up the cracks in his heart with something other than the loneliness that had been weighing him down for the last six months since Bella had walked out of the door. Instead he just shrugged his shoulders and went back to drawing stick figures in his notebook, glancing at Harry out of the corner of his eye. Harry put his chin in his hand and let out a deep sigh of defeat. “I was hoping for something interesting. Like maybe the beach or a tree house you built when you were younger. Hell, I’d even take a creepy abandoned park at this point.” Harry muttered, and Louis rolled his eyes fondly at the curly-haired boy. “What’s with the sudden need to find a new place to call home?” Louis questioned and Harry started picking at his fingernails, something Louis knew he only did when he was nervous.

“Have you ever just felt so out-of-place that even your shadow seems to be wrong?” Harry asked and Louis raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you properly smashed right now?” Louis laughed into his wrist when Harry flipped him off with a pout. “I’m serious, Lou. I just feel like the world is moving in fast forward and I’m stuck on slow motion and it’s starting to make my head pound when I think about it too much. It’s like a dream and I wanted to wake up a few months ago but I never found out how. If I could just find a place that doesn’t feel made up or like it’s going to fall apart at the first tear drop then I think I could stop feeling so out of place.” Harry explained, still picking at his nails even though they had started to bleed and Louis could see him wincing slightly every time he tugged at the skin.

Louis reached over and captured both of Harry’s hands in his, pulling them into his lap so Harry would stop hurting himself. “When I think of home, I think of you. The way your eyes light up when you’re excited over the little kid movies that come on after midnight. They way you always bring an extra sandwich, every single morning, for the stray dog that lives by the park. The way you stare at the stars like they’re the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life. But most importantly, it’s the way you make me feel. You make me feel like there are galaxies in my lungs and I don’t even know how I can breathe around you because I’m so damned in love with you that it hurts. You’re my home. Not some beach or crappy tree house or creepy park. Just you.”

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