he is

the sun

and i stare

up at him

longingly

waiting

for a

glimpse

to shine

down

on me

but

all i do

is go

blind

now

i hate

the sun

and prefer

shadows

he cracked

the code,

deciphered

my heartbeats

and every

staggered

breath

"Spilling your heart on loose leaf paper?"

I smile up at him, realizing I've lost track of time again.

maybe

the night

is fractured

and the

stars are

shivering

"Why are they so depressing today Harry?"

I shrug, chewing on the cap of my pen.

"That's a bad habit you know."

"So is smoking but you're getting better. I just need time," I huff dramatically.

"Okay," he chuckles. "Suppose you're right, chewing a pen cap won't slowly kill you."

"Zayn," I say hesitantly.

"Yes love?"

"I was thinking about storms."

"Storms," he confirms.

"They let us know that sometimes the sky needs to scream. Sometimes though people say something took them by storm, like they're raptured. Storms are usually referred to in a literal sense but what about the storm that rages inside of me? What about the electric lightning I feel? And the rain inside my heart?"

His knuckles graze over mine as his soft amber eyes meet my face.

"Why does it rain in your heart babe?"

"It hasn't since I met you but it still storms. It storms when you touch me."

His hand caresses my cheek and my eyes close.

"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep."

Pablo Neruda again. He kills me everytime.

"You forgot the beginning babe. I do not love you as if you were a salt rose, or topaz or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body."

"We're probably the only two people on Earth weird enough to memorize entire poems."

I just shrug and lean in to peck his lips.

"It isn't weird to me. It's one of the things we bond over."

I rip a page out of my notebook and crumple it up, aiming for the waste basket.

"What are you throwing away?"

"I'm discarding memories."

...

"Hey Harry."

Oh God.

"What do you want Sam?" Through gritted teeth.

I slam my locker door closed before turning to her, a cold expression on my face.

"I just wanted to apologize for the hateful things I said. I-"

"We're over. I'm not having sex with you. I'm not good anyway, remember?"

I pivot on my heel my her arm catches my elbow.

"I didn't mean it. You know I still have feelings for you. Remember when we used to go to the park and share earbuds and drink tea until we were sick? We went ice skating and you fell flat on your ass, remember," she laughs. "And that one time we went skinny dipping in the creek-"

"Stop. All you wanted to do was get wasted. You were fucking numb and so was I. Remember all the stupid parties? Drinking games and body shots and sexual Jenga...just juvenile shit. That wasn't love Sam."

Her eyes grow wet as she moves in, her arms wrapping around me.

Warm tears soak my shirtsleeve.

Peachy.

"I miss you Harry. I miss what we had. Please, don't be a stranger."

I want to feel sorry for her but I just can't.

"There's a fire in my heart but it's not burning for you."

She pulls away, sadness clinging to her lashes.

"Who? Who does it burn for?"

My eyes search hers and I swallow. There's no way I'm telling her the truth.

"Tell me Harry," she snaps. "Or I'll find out myself."

I push her aside, my legs carrying me down the hallway.

"Don't think this is over! Don't think I'll just forget," her voice booms.

"Harry, are you okay?"

"Sam," I heave out. "She's suspicious."

Lou rolls his eyes and resumes his conversation with Liam.

"Geez Harry, she's a total ditz. Who cares? She probably went crawling back because she's fucked the entire male body and decided you weren't half bad."

"You're right," I say relieved. "Thanks Niall."

I glance down at my unwashed ink stained hands. I really should wash them and grab something to eat but I'm not hungry.

I feel sick. Sick because she touched me again. So I flip open my notebook and do the only thing I know how to.

flames

burning

behind

my eyes

flickering

just for you

bright

b r i g h t

warm burnt orange

and sunflower

yellow

My heart is bleeding again.

But this time the paper is bounded.

My stomach is in knots and my mind is hazy.

I can't seem to stop my hand from shaking as it grazes over the pages.

I've attempted suicide.

Sometimes my mind is the scariest place to travel.

suicide is

strong

mixed drinks

from strangers

and shared

sloppy kisses

with Sam

it's hands

pushing you

clumsily

onto a bed

and your hand

sliding up

under a

slutty dress

it's suffocation

from some

cheap perfume

and being

strangled by

dyed hair

it's murmuring

sweet nothings

and letting

fake moans

slip past

your lips

it's denying

yourself

sweet short

stories and

beautiful stanzas

poetry and

late night

convos

about symbolism

and the strength

of the moon

it's waiting

too long

to touch

a tan skined

raven haired

man with

warm hands

and a heart

of gold

it's not

letting yourself

get lost in

honey colored

eyes and

drinking in

the sweet

taste of

his baby

pink lips

it's not

telling him

that

my pen drops to the floor, my body slumping in my chair

and my head hits the table with a bang

...

"Sedatives. Are you fucking crazy? I was in the hospital for drug abuse and you think it's a good idea to take sedatives? For what Harry? You were so mad at me then and now you do this? You're being a hypocrite."

"I thought they'd help me relax I didn't know that-"

His eyes land on my bandage. "Those can increase suicidal tendecies Harry. Fuck," he tugs at his hair and pulls in his bottom lip with his teeth.

"I'm sorry," I say hoarsely.

"We're so messed up Harry. Come on, I'm taking you home."

"What if someone-"

"Like I give two shits what people think about us right now!"

I scan to make sure the nurse is gone. Thankfully she is.

He places his hand on the small on my back and guides me out to his car.

"I'm still groggy."

"No duh," he spits.

His nostrils flare but his anger isn't sexy. It's just terrifying.

"Zayn," I whisper.

He loosens his grip on the steering wheel and my head falls back onto the head rest, my eyes threatening to close.

"This feels like that one song...there are certain things that I have done-"

His eyes are glued to the pavement, yellow and white marks passing by. Lights turning from green to yellow to red.

We stop at one and he glances over at me, his eyes probing for an explanation.

"But I'm certain I am yours."

He unbuckles his seat belt and climbs over the console to cup my face, his lips finding mine.

I'm fully aware we're at a traffic light

and someone honks behind us