Sunflower | h.s

44

"I can't explain so much the colour, but more about how they make me feel. Because all I'd be able to say to you is that your eyes are like a forest I get lost in for endless hours. I'm not so good with colours, I'm better with words." I say as I lye down on my back. He follows my actions and does the same.

"So tell me darling. Tell me through words." He says as he turns his head to the side so his eyes are in view with mine.

"Your eyes feel like home. I can look into your eyes and know that I am safe there. I can look into your eyes and realise that what you see of me is not what I see of myself, therefore making me feel like I have purpose. Your eyes see the small things about me which I never take the time to realise; like my freckles, my dimples, the different shades of brown and yellow in my eyes which I never used to like but have now grown to love. I love looking into your eyes because your eyes alone can tell me that I am enough, and that's before your mouth can come to say any words at all."

The room fell silent. We both stayed lying down with our chests rising and falling. We are now not facing each other, but we are now both staring at the ceiling. I feel the back of his hand lightly brush against mine. I took the hint and twisted my hand slightly so my fingers fell into the creases between his.

And it was at this moment I realised that whenever me and him when quiet, so you could hear nothing but the sound of our staggered breathing, the space filled itself with love. Here, with him I learn of goodness and how it was always meant for me on the days I felt most undeserving. The world is quiet here, but I loved it because I was fluent in the art of silence and how much more it had to say than words did.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I return the question as merely a whisper.

"I am thinking something. But I cant tell you." He says making me furrow my eyebrows out of confusion. I sit up and look down at him while he still stares at the ceiling.

"Was it something I did?" I ask

"In a way. But not in the way that your thinking." He said, making me question it all.

"I'll be right back." He says as he hops off of the bed and goes downstairs. I stare into the empty space of my room out of confusion and slide my way backwards to rest my head against the headboard. I can hear muffled shuffling around coming from downstairs, followed by footsteps making there way back up.

My bedroom door handle opens slowly and I see Harry peek his head round it, smiling to himself.

"What?" I ask while chuckling and questioning his actions at the same time. It took me a second to realise he had his journal and pen in his hand. I don't remember seeing him bring it in the car?

"When did you get that."

"If I told you it wouldn't be a secret." He says while smirking, now leaning beside me on the headboard and bringing his knees up to his chest.

"Why's it a secret?" I ask while smiling.

"If I told you why it was a secret then it wouldn't be a secret." He replies making me roll my eyes and hit him on the arm lightly with my pillow.

"Alright Styles. You win." I say and lye down onto his chest and feel his calming heartbeat on the right side of my face.

I feel his chest rise slowly up and down as the scribbling of pen on paper fills the room. Through his white flared t-shirt I trace my forefinger lightly on his tattoos again. His tattoos were a map in which my finger could never find the destination to. They all told a story, I just didn't know what.

"Are you doing that surprise thing again?" I ask

"Mhmm." He says with his lips closed shut and eyebrows furrowed as he wrote what looked like paragraphs on the page.