Ever Since New York [h.s au]

08

I had my book in my hand and my backpack over my left shoulder. I was trying to run without running -no one runs on a college campus- to meet up with Harry. He said he had an idea for the untitled song we'd been working on.

I had my finger in between the pages of my book. I was trying to finish Act Three of Othello before my Shakespeare class that afternoon. I didn't have anything to use as a bookmark, but Harry said it was an emergency so I just picked it up and ran to the stairs.

"Woah, Woah. Calm down, New York."

Someone's arm grabbed my elbow, slowing me down. I turned around, Harry was standing there. His fingertips barely touched my arm. He looked concerned but beautiful as always.

"Sorry." I panted.

He tried to take my book for me, "Woah, sorry I don't have a bookmark." I lifted it up, showing him my index finger holding my place.

"So what are you reading today?" He asked as we walked towards a grass patch.

"Othello. What song did you listen to on the way here?" I asked my version of his question.

He tightens his arm around me, "Some Beatles, then 'You make loving fun'."

"I bet you sing that better than 'The Chain'." We were on the grass now.

Harry let go of me, and I slid my backpack off. Both of us sat down. "Ya think?" He asked.

I started digging through my bag for my journal and a bookmark. All of a sudden Harry burst out into song. "Sweeeeeeeet wonderful you."

I looked around, there were people staring. Without thinking I leaped over to him, putting my hand over his mouth. "Could you be any louder?"

His eyes drifted from my face down to his pants. I looked down and realized I was practically straddling him. "Oh, sorry." I climbed off him.

"It's alright. But seriously, how did I sound?" He asked.

I scooted closer to him, "Sing it again, but quieter. Please."

He nodded, his voice was softer, sweeter, "Sweet wonderful you."

"Wait," I interrupted. I reached for the Shakespeare book that finally had a bookmark. I flipped to the last page I read and found the underlined second. "Listen to this:

'In sleep I heard him say, 'Sweet Desdemona Let us be wary. Let us hide our loves.' And then, sir, would he grip and wring my hand, Cry 'O sweet creature!' then kiss me hard."

"New York, why are you reading me, Shakespeare?"

The way he called me New York sent shivers down my spine. "That was in verse, which is poetry. It's in iambic pentameter, so there are 10 counts. But the line 'O sweet creature', that line is only 9 counts. It's unsettling when you read it, it means it's important."

"You know I adore the way you read poetry, and I find it adorable when you talk about it, you know that. I also love how passionate you are about this, but I'm going to ask again. Why are you reading me, Shakespeare?" Harry inquired.

"The way you just sang sweet, do it again, but instead of saying wonderful you after, say creature. Please." I begged.

Harry seemed unsure, but after a moment he cleared his throat, "Sweet creature."

It was even better than what I imagined in my head, "Harry we have a third song!" I shrieked.

"What?"

I was already writing down the words in my journal. "Imagine an acoustic strum, very soft and slow. You start the song with 'Sweet creature'." I did my best to say it the way he sang it.