Beautiful Boy ➶ l.s

7- Already home

{ Chapter dedicated to: @Leprechauncookie you're cute ily xx }

sorry again for not updating yesterday, my life is just in a shitty place. You won't care but if some -surprisingly- do, I'll explain a bit at the end. And here goes chapter 7 :)

-

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I'm not there, I do not sleep

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond light on snow

I am the sunlight on the ripened grain

I am the gently falling autumn rain

When you wake in the morning hush

I am the swift uplighting rush

Of quite birds in circling flight

I am the soft star light at night

Do not stand at my grave and cry

I am not there, I did not die..

-

"I can't do this.." I breathed, laying gingerly in my deep aromatherapy bubble bath and looked at the 8" x "10 picture I had taken from the top of the piano downstairs and brought up here with me. I've propped it behind the taps so I could see it clearly from where I'm laying in the steamy water, as I was trying not to splash it.

It was a coloured shot of the love of my life, Harry and it was taken on his sister Gemma's wedding day, three years earlier. He looked desperately glamorous, with his messy hair and artfully artless suit & tie. No brother-of-the-bride slick black suit with matching tie for him. I remembered the tie - 20 inches tall, black coloured fabric. A gift from his mother a year before the celebration. No one sitting in the four pews behind me saw a thing of the ceremony. You couldn't see why, and I no longer remembered, but Harry was laughing his big, loud laugh. His head was thrown back, the locks of his curls shook up a bit, as his contagious laugh flew away with the summer breeze. His large, expressive mouth was open and wide, so that you could see a filling on the top row of his teeth, and his emerald eyes had almost disappeared into the crinkles on his face. It was an especially great picture of my love, although he've always been photogenic.

I could almost hear it when I looked at the picture, deep and throaty, and so, so alive. It was Harry's raucous laugh I would miss the most - that and the smell of his when I used to cuddle close.

I thought about the last big belly laugh we had shared. It was when I helped him pack his stuff for college. He didn't bear to do it with his mother, he ha said. She would be crying, and she wanted so badly not to cry. He was almost obsessed by not crying, towards the end.

I didn't expect it to be hilarious, but now that I've thought about it, I didn't know why not. The two of us had a great deal laughing together, through the past few years of my life.

I just want the one that used to make me laugh so loud come back. The one that used to stay beside me all night. The one who've I opened my heart to. I just want him back.

Tears didn't gleam in my eyes, that's because I've been crying all week. I let out a shaky breath - not wanting any other memories nor flashback to swell back.

I quickly stood up in the aromatherapy bubble bath that I'm having, water drops rolling down my steamed body and hair as I stepped out of the bath, wrapping a white towel around my waist, before stepping away from the steamed air and into my room, leaving the picture laying behind the taps.

I dried my body, wearing my boxers and sweats, before staring at the mirror that was in front of me. I let out a shaky breath - not believing the fading scars lined up on my left arm. But then again, it was supposed to feel pain, and it did, just not the type of pain I was hoping for.