"Harry," he perks up, a meek smile on his face. "I've been sat in this chair for hours."

His body is stiff, he lets out a small yawn and stretches. I watch the ripple of his abs and catch a glimpse of the smooth tan patch of skin under the hem of his shirt. I want to trace my fingers up over his hip bone and kiss him tenderly.

"Ed told me you'd be here. It took some convincing to find out the room number. They said only family was allowed in but I threw a fit so here I am."

He chuckles lightly but I don't miss the pronounced dark circles under his eyes or the tiredness in his tone as he says "it's not good" and my heart shudders.

"Zayn," I murmur and caress his cheek. He fumbles for my hand and they lock perfectly like puzzle pieces, his fingers slipping between mine.

"Breast cancer," he breathes out unsteadily, his voice shaken with grief.

"I love the handful of the earth you are.

Because of its meadows, vast as a planet,

I have no other star. You are my replica

of the multiplying universe.

Your wide eyes are the only light I know

from extinguished constellations;

your skin throbs like the streak

of a meteor through rain.

Your hips were that much of the moon for me;

your deep mouth and its delights, that much sun;

your heart, fiery with its long red rays,

was that much ardent light, like honey in the shade.

So I pass across your burning form, kissing

you - compact and planetary, my dove, my globe."

"Pablo Neruda," he smiles. "He's one of my favorites." I kiss the tip of his nose, his cheek and the corner of his mouth but his face falls and he looks so sullen it makes my heart cry enough to fill a thousand basins.

"Babe, this is out of your control. Just know that you-"

"With each passing second my love for you grows stronger."

"Zayn?" His mum stirs and smiles weakly. He shoots up, hovering over her bed. "Is this the student you're always talking about?"

His cheeks flush, his eyes casting downward in embarrassment.

"Mum," he groans. She winks at me and in that moment I just know she'll pull through. The world isn't ready to take her yet. She's too headstrong.

She insists I call her Trisha and I warm up to her immediately.

"How old are you Harry?"

"Almost nineteen."

Her brows raise in surprise and Zayn rushes to clarify, his eyes wide. She doesn't seem to mind the age gap at all, saying "age is just a number, don't let people tell you what you feel for each other is wrong. What you know in your heart is stronger than any outside force; it's a bond that cannot be broken."

"Now I know why Zayn is so wise and how he always knows exactly what to say to make me smile. He gets it from you Trisha."

"You're such a lovely boy," she praises and kisses my cheek. "I'm feeling a lot better honey," she assures Zayn, stroking her fingers through his messy bait. Her nose scrunches up and she scolds Zayn for smoking, how she can smell it in the fabric of his clothes.

"M'sorry, you know I smoke when I'm nervous."

"I have a daunting task for you Harry."

"What would that be?"

"Help my baby quit smoking. It's such a nasty habit."

"Zayn, I don't want to kiss an ashtray."

He bursts into bright laughter and kisses me softly.

...

i grow jealous of

the morning sun

that sees his face first

and the coffee cup

whose rim touches

his sleepy lips

awake

"Your mum is amazing. She seems really resilient. Her will to live will outweigh the cancer. I promise."

"I sure hope so."

"That's all we can do Zayn," I squeeze his hand gently.

He nods, sheepishly before taking another sip of his coffee.

"I took today off. M'not feeling it."

"Then I'm skipping today."

"Harry," he frowns. "School is important."

"Yeah but everything I'll ever need to know I can learn from you."

He rolls his eyes dramatically.

inhales sharply,

i want to kiss him

without warning,

i need that breath

he's holding in;

his breaths

are mine

and mine his

"What's worse?" My fingers fiddle with a napkin on the table. "Drowning beneath rushing waves or dying from thirst?"

"Harry, what kind of terrible question is that?"

"Do you let yourself drown in your love for someone or do you never quench your thirst?"

"Who says you have to drown? Let's just float."

"But you sank and he stayed afloat."

"You aren't him Harry. I'm no longer afraid to get my feet wet."

"Parallel lines are so close but never touch. I know that's random but it really bothers me. What keeps them apart?"

"Rules of mathematics," he jokes. "If we're being random now, is English your favorite subject?"

"Nope."

"Hey," he hits my shoulder playfully. "Why not?"

"I've always been fascinated with astronomy."

"Why?"

"There are uncharted territories out there. I like the unknown. I like oblivion."

"You're so strange."

"I'm not disagreeing," I smirk. "Just think of it this way; our bodies are inhabiting one spot, in one house, in one city, in one country...we take up a miniscule amount of space on Earth, yet there are whole other planets and galaxies. It makes my problems feel so tiny. Luckily, Earth is the only planet that feels and has laughter and life...that is something to celebrate."

"The world is waked with mistakes Harry."

"Maybe so but I have something to share with you."

"Okay," he replies hesitantly.

"You are not one of those mistakes."

His eyes burn brighter than any star and he leans in to kiss me, his lips etching a burning trail on my skin. No molten lava can compare to the heat of this love; of our passion. I refuse to believe it and I refuse to believe it will ever burn out.

As if you were

on fire

from within,

the moon lives

In the lining

of your skin

Another Neruda poem, one that perfectly relates the universe to intimacy.

My heart laughs, realizing Neruda sounds so similar to the word nebula.