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✷h.
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“Name one hero who was happy."
"You can't." He was sitting up now, leaning forward.
"I can't."
"I know. They never let you be famous AND happy." He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret."
"Tell me." I loved it when he was like this.
"I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it."
"Why me?"
"Because you're the reason. Swear it."
"I swear it”
― The Song of Achilles
"You can't." He was sitting up now, leaning forward.
"I can't."
"I know. They never let you be famous AND happy." He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret."
"Tell me." I loved it when he was like this.
"I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it."
"Why me?"
"Because you're the reason. Swear it."
"I swear it”
― The Song of Achilles
“Keep your secrets. You're too young and beautiful not to have secrets.”
―
―
“The moon knows,” is what he says, breath colored in liquor and a smile.
Louis stares at him.
“What are you talking about?”
Another manic grin from Harry, and then he pulls him in again, his hand travelling to the side of Louis’ face, cradling his cheek.
“The moon knows that we’re in love.”
―
Louis stares at him.
“What are you talking about?”
Another manic grin from Harry, and then he pulls him in again, his hand travelling to the side of Louis’ face, cradling his cheek.
“The moon knows that we’re in love.”
―
“Make them pay you what they would pay a white man.”
― The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo
― The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo
“Hey, Lou?” he hums, casual as anything.
“Hm?”
“Wanna hear my poem?”
Oh dear god. Seriously?
Gritting his teeth to keep from laughing or grinning or falling over his own two feet, Louis arches an inquiring eyebrow, turning to meet Harry’s stare. Of course, the bastard is grinning, proud and loud and pleased.
Harry blinks, slow enough that Louis briefly wonders if the planet’s begun to rotate slower, has maybe begun to rotate backwards, even. “It goes, ‘He likes me, too.”
―
“Hm?”
“Wanna hear my poem?”
Oh dear god. Seriously?
Gritting his teeth to keep from laughing or grinning or falling over his own two feet, Louis arches an inquiring eyebrow, turning to meet Harry’s stare. Of course, the bastard is grinning, proud and loud and pleased.
Harry blinks, slow enough that Louis briefly wonders if the planet’s begun to rotate slower, has maybe begun to rotate backwards, even. “It goes, ‘He likes me, too.”
―
✷h.’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at ✷h.’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
Favorite Genres
Art, Fantasy, Fiction, Gay and Lesbian, Humor and Comedy, Music, Romance, Young-adult, queer, and lgbt
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