I Bet You Won't • Larry

37. How it Feels to Love -H

it's only him that i want, only him that i need, only his hands and his fingers and his chest and his lips and his eyes and his air and his fire and his fuel and just him. he's the only one that can make me feel like the fire ripping through my body is a reminder that he loves me and not an act of hate for loving him back.

he makes me need him ways i just can't understand, makes me feel like i'm gasping for the water to quench the building flames in my body and suddenly i'm filled with air and hands and fingers and lips and eyes and i remember. i remember why i need him and his small fingers that are more like matches than anything else and i remember why his chest pressing against mine lights my soul into a forrest fire and why i succumb so easily to anything he wants me to do, and why my yes yes whatever you want is tumbling out before the can we try- can even spill from his lips.

he gives me my appetite before i can even tell him that i'm hungry and he shoves the food into my mouth before i can tell him no, no i want your skin and your hands and your eyes and your lips, not this because my appetite ranges from the top of his body to the bottom, not from the refridgerator to the pantry.

the curve of his hips and how it drives me absolutely wild with the passion and lust that the dimples on his back feed me, how when he's standing he looks like a flick of a flame, his sides digging in at his stomach and then puffing out right above his groin, and his body looks like an hourglass and i'm sitting here wondering when the sand will fall to his feet. when the dimples on his back will close up and his curvy figure will stand straight, when his small hands will stop holding mine and his blue eyes will stop whispering things to me as they turn grey, his head falling forward on my chest as i try to catch him, try to wake him up by running my large hands over his body but i can't seem to ignite the flames that he sends running over my body so easily.

but for now, i'll admire his hourglass figure and be happy that the sand is resting happily at the top of his head, knowing that the fire in his chest will burn for much longer. i'll run my hands over his hips, my body pressing into his as i slit my fingers into the dips in his spine, our eyes speaking to each other because our mouths are too busy lighting fires within each other.

our hands will entangle and those fingers that trace my skin, leaving burning trails of fire and love and pain will wrap around my own and we'll create the electricity that runs through the world, keeping every house and apartment and office lit and the second we part, the second i'm suddenly gasping for air again, the second the fire in my chest is nothing more than a few embers, the second my eyes are screaming out his name but his give no response, is the second that all of the light in the world will suddenly

vanish.

-how it feels to be loved and to be in love.

h

•••

A/N:
"and he wonders why i ask myself if it's real or not, because it sure as hell seems like a fantasy when he presses his bare chest against mine and i see angel wings poking out from behind his back. and one day i fear that his small hands, pressing into the spot where my back arches the highest, his fingers, trailing lines of fire down my chest and onto my stomach, his mouth, telling me that the aching burn on my lips is a praise of his love, his way of igniting my skin in flames will all be gone."

i'm speechless and i hope you are, too. this might just be the best piece i've ever written... ever.

i was reading a larry thing and h had this journal where he tried to write his sexual desires (??) about l in it (they were already dating for years) and h kept trying to be dominant at least once, to make l feel how he makes him feel, and he just wrote this thing in this sex journal and he didn't mean for l to find it but he did and anyways

and it was like a one shot but it was written in more of a poetry style than an actual book style (it was written the ao3 style, not wattpad style cause it was ao3)

and it inspired me to do this because i'm an artist, a writer, a poet, and what you all read in this book is not who i actually am

don't get me wrong, this book is my heart and soul, but i actually laughed out loud when someone thought that this was my real writing. i write poetry, i write from the soul and this is a little snippit of that, i suppose

it's a mixture of my book writing and my poetry writing

i'm going to make a fic of just my poetry if you'd like to read it :)

ALSO: should louis find this journal and read this or should it stay just a private thing?

i hope you all loved this as much as i do. i hope you liked the change

next chapter coming very soon!

all the love.

zoe xx