Harry
Fairytale
A children's story about magical and imaginary beings and lands.
You hear them throughout your childhood. The common girl kisses the frog and transforms the slimy little thing into a prince. A girl lives in the woods with 7 dwarves and takes care of them because for some reason, the author of that fairytale thought that was all women were good for. A poor girl lives in a luxurious castle with talking furniture and a beast, and with her love, turned him back into a handsome prince.
These stories have existed for as long as anyone can remember. I've seemed to have had a hard time believing them. I remember my mother used to sit in the rocking chair with me perched on one leg and Gemma on the other. She'd read some sappy love story from Gemma's large collection, and for a while I believed them. I truly believed that some gorgeous charismatic man would swoop in and give me my happily ever after, shielding me from all that was wrong in the world. As time went on, that fantasy faded, along with my innocence.
I stopped believing in a true loves kiss, magical slippers, and fairy grandmothers. How could I? How could I believe that I was destined for a happily ever after when my father would beat me and leave me on the cold floor for not being able to love who he wanted me to love?
My life was never filled with singing to birds and having so much optimism even when things were doomed. Maybe fairytales did exist, but it was never in the cards for me. But sitting in this car and driving down the snow-filled streets with a boy who's beauty was something unprecedented, is the closest thing I'll ever get to my happily ever after,
And I was more than okay with that.
"Are you warm enough?" Louis asked softly, adjusting the heat settings in front of him.
"Mhm" Words were unable to form in my mouth. This night has left me in a state of such bliss and I'm afraid words would rob me of this moment.
The car came to a stop in front of a traffic light, and he used this opportunity to look at me. Not a quick glance, but the kind of look that makes your toes curl. The kind of eye-contact that robs your lungs of its breath and refuses to give it back until he looks away.
I want to tell him he's beautiful. I want to jump out of this car and run to the highest building I can find, climbing to the top and screaming to the world until my lungs give out that Louis William Tomlinson of Doncaster England is the most beautiful boy that has ever walked this earth. But beautiful is too simple of a word. That word is used too commonly and too loosely. As far as I'm concerned, there are no words that could accurately depict this man next to me, and that should be a crime.
"What's going on in that mind, Curly?" The light turns green and we continue down the icy street.
"I'll tell you some other time" He looks at me briefly in confusion but once I give him a reassuring smile, he grabs my hand and places a kiss to each of my knuckles, his eyes never leaving the road.
I could look at him forever, and never grow tired of it. Not even for a second.
It scares me. It scares me how deep these feelings are. I've never felt this way, and I never thought I'd be able to feel this way. The smallest part of me still trembles in fear because I know that this could end at any given point. As I said, its a small part, but it's still there.
"Louis, you passed my street" I sit up in my seat as we drive past the road that my house is on. It's already a quarter till 9, and I don't want my mum to worry.
"I know" He smirks to himself and continues driving down the road, steering clear of the patches of ice.
"Well? Aren't you gonna go back?"
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You Sunshine, You Temptress (l.s)
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