***REPUBLISHED CHAPTER***

Harry Is walking back home, after another boring, meaningless school day.

Sighing, he looks up and his eyes widen in awe.

The sky is gray, in the verge of tears.

So, so beautiful.

Harry loves rain, he always thinks of it like the sky lets its emotions out, all in tiny raindrops that end up on the cold, hard ground.

It matches his mood, gray. Yes, Harry's mood is definitely gray today, but he isn't necessarily sad. He just feels empty and simply numb. The way he feels every day, really.

A raindrop lands on his nose, making him scrunch it up and wipe it away.

Harry is thinking, like he always does when he walks back home. Most people just plug in their headphones and zone out, but Harry has his thoughts for that. They're so incredibly loud and bugging that he cannot ignore them. But, he's used to it. He's thinking about how his best friend, Ed got beat up today, about the black eye and swollen cut on his cheek, trying to get the picture out of his head. It's sad that Harry wasn't there to defend him. But it's even sadder that Ed couldn't defend himself.

It's not like he could have done anything to prevent it, to be honest. Harry hates violence, so he wouldn't use it against someone else. That would be hypocritical. Right?

'Right.' His subconscious answered his unasked question.

Harry shakes his head and continues walking, trying to ignore the tight feeling in his stomach. He felt bad for his friend. Ed doesn't deserve the shit he receives. It's unbelievable how students bully him for having OCD. People are so cruel.

By the second, Harry is getting more and more furious. He feels so angry towards the ignorant, heartless people that surround him everyday. How could they be so, so... inhumane? To Harry, it seems impossible to have this behaviour and still be able to sleep at night.

As the thoughts suffocate Harry's mind, he doesn't notice the fact that he's already outside his house, nor the car that is rapidly approaching him.

Look out!" Someone yells, then a loud horn is heard and he's pushed out of the way and onto the ground. He feels weight on his stomach and chest and fluffy hair tickling his neck.

Harry looks down to meet blue, but a kind of blue he's never seen before. The most vibrant, bright, yet soft colour Harry's eyes have ever witnessed. Looking like it is covering layers of green, to Harry, this is the most majestic type of blue in the entire universe. It gave him the urge to paint the sky with it. And then the same angelic voice snaps him back to reality.

"Oops." The nameless boy mumbles and gets up, brushing his pants off, then helping Harry get up as well.

Harry almost frowns, because damn, he didn't have enough time to observe the gorgeous boy's features and the butterflies that fill his stomach just won't go away. He feels like something is missing after losing contact with the lad, but shrugs it off and smiles sheepishly.

"Hi." Harry almost whispers, but the boy hears him clearly.

"Hello there."

The still nameless lad chuckles.

And no, Harry's heart didn't just swell at the beautiful sound. Of course not.

"Th- thanks for- ya know, pushing me out of the way." Harry smiles wider, letting his dimple appear, mentally cussing himself for stuttering like a freak.

"It's nothing, but you should really watch out while crossing the street. By the way, I'm Louis, I just moved in town. My house is over there." The slightly shorter lad points at the house that is right next to Harry's.

"Then we're neighbours I guess." Harry says and Louis nods with a smile.

"Really? That's great! Anyway, gotta run, see you around- you never told me your name, but okay." And just like that, Louis walks away hurriedly and gets in his house as Harry watches his every step, trying to process what the fuck just happened.

"It's Harry." He whispers, knowing that he'll probably need to repeat that when he sees the gorgeous boy again. He can't wait for that, if he's honest.

But then it really starts to rain.

So he has to go inside.

When Harry gets in the house and mumbles a greeting to his mother, he goes straight to his room, carelessly throwing his backpack on the floor and walking towards the window, just to see that Louis' curtains were closed.

He stays there, silent, just thinking. Again.

We are afraid of dark,
we are afraid of light,
scared of what's to come
scared of what is life.

But really, what is life?
A dream, a nightmare, a book, a movie. A plot, a story that we choose to write. Some people aren't the best authors though.

AN:

Hullooo:)

Another story woohoo

THIS IS EDITED!

-Sem.