IX

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Sophie's POV

I rub my eyes, wiping away the tears. Sprawled all over the bed, I try to gather my thoughts.

He left, and I cried again.

I huff out in annoyance with myself. However, this time it's not his fault that I cried.

It was pretty obvious that he'd leave, I should've been happy that he even stayed for as long as he did, but the hope in me still existed.

That hope was foolish like a child.

Especially because he probably hates me anyway. I'd hate me, too, if I were him.

I turn on my side, looking over the small bookshelf, when my eye fixates on a certain book.

Tess of D'Urbervilles

I wipe my eyes again and stand up, going to fetch one of my favourite books that I haven't been able to read since I left Harry.

I slowly touch the bookcover, wipe away the dust, before I pull it out and take it in my hands.

I missed it so much that I want to hug it, but instead, I lift it to my face and quickly flow through the pages, when a piece of paper falls from it to the floor.

A note.

My heart stops. I know this paper.

These were the types of notes Harry got for me for my birthday.

What is it doing here? It shouldn't be here, they're all stored in a box I keep my favourite things and memories in.

Unless... I haven't seen that one before.

Unless that one's new.

I quickly bend to grab it, but another thought of what the previous note was like halts me.

What if this one is as horrible?

What if it says how much he hates me?

I shake my head.

No, I need to read it no matter what. I won't be at peace until I read it.

So I take it in my hands, eyes squeezed shut, afraid of the words on the paper.

I breathe out, take a deep breath, then breath out again, slowly opening my eyes and seeing that, indeed, I haven't seen that note before.

My eyes slowly take Harry's handwriting in.

But if she hoped to leave me ink-stained
She should know she did succeed,
For even know I will still look for her
In every book I read

My heart feels like it may explode and I press the note against my chest, like it could soothe the pain.

He wrote this and left it for me in a place he knew I wouldn't look soon, but definetly will.

He knew this would happen, that he wouldn't manage to keep me with him.

He knew it.

So he left me a note.

I sit on the floor, holding the note to my chest still, like I can't believe it's real.

I force my feet to move towards the desk, where in the drawer I keep the box with all the notes.

I pull it out and let all the notes fall to yhe ground next to me, as I try to gather them to form the complete poem.

She smelled of books and stories
Of all the worlds she'd lived within
As though the ink had left the pages
To find a new home in her skin

She didn't quite belong here
Lived a life within her head
Like she'd slipped out from the covers
Of a paperback instead

And I'd see it in her eyes
That they were deeper than a well
She was a whole library of stories
That I'd beg of her to tell

When she spoke to me I'd listen
To the adventures of her mind
For if there's such a thing as magic
Then it was something she could find

And her heart had looked much further
Than her eyes had ever seen
She'd walked on words to places
Her two feet had never been

It will be years now since she moved
And we will fail to keep in touch
So her memory will all be faded
Like a book I've read too much

But if she hoped to leave me ink-stained
She should know she did succeed
For even now I will still look for her
In every book I read

I sit there for an eternity, immobile, my emotions taking the best of me, until I remember something.

The back, what if there's something on the back.

I turn the note around with the speed of the light.

Like I thought, the back is filled with black-inked handwriting.

No matter when,
No matter where,
No matter how,
Don't you ever think
That I don't love you still.

I gasp.

He knew.

He knew that he might not be able to say it outloud, so he wrote it for me.

My breath hitches in my throath and I smile like I haven't smiled in so long.

He still loves me.

I glance towards the window to see that the sun has already set outside, and my head whips towards my door when I head a doorbell.

Footsteps downstairs tell me that Sonia went to open the door and my feet rush downstairs on their own when I hear he sound of the person at the door.

Harry.

His eyes open wide when he sees me running like a madwoman into his arms, yet he manages to catch me and engulf me in his arms.

"Okay." Sonia quickly mutters and grabs her keys. "I'll just leave you two to it." and she quickly exits, closing the door behind her.

"I found it." I sob in his neck. "I found the note."

He tenses and tucks hair behind my ear. "Did you, now?"

I nod. "I love you so much." I tell him.

"Shh, baby." he cooes. "I love you, too. You know I do."

His arms feel like a shield around me and with his lips finally on mine, I feel complete again.

***

Love, P.❤

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