Poetry is what happens when your mind stops working, and for a moment, all you do is feel. -Atticus

Harry Styles was such a fool for thinking the world would reward him a greater meaning in life when he gave people something to live and love for. He hoped too much that by putting his pain, sorrows and love in one piece would give him a reason to live. Obviously, he was wrong. He was so wrong for thinking that such thing as happiness actually existed. Maybe it did before the world turned its back on him. All he gained was an empty paper, and a map to find his passion once again.

Being a poet was something the green eyed man had always dreamed of when he was still a teen. Writing endless love poems about life and how beautiful it used to be landed him a spot in one of a known publishing company. At first he was ecstatic; working about your passion and art was an honor for Harry, and he embraced every moment of it, publishing books after books, every euro he gained was mountainous, and it was from his hard work and passion. The little boy before couldn't believe the life he had dreamed not so long ago was coming to life, and he was too blinded by the diamonds and spotlight to realize that he was losing sight of his heart.

The sun was creeping in the spacey room through the curtains, and the birds outside were chirping a tune unknown to humankind. It was a beautiful day in London, and it was something so rare that even Harry was surprised. The latter furrowed his eyebrows and squinted, groaning in displeasure when his alarm went off.

"Stupid alarm," He muttered before smacking it and made his way to the bathroom to do his business and take a long shower.

Mornings for Harry wasn't always good, even if it was a beautiful day for the most, but for him, it was just another day of survival. Another day of suffering. Even so, the only thing he looked forward to was cooking breakfast and blasting music through out his massive house.

After taking a shower and dressing up for today's agenda, Harry stood behind the refrigerator and thought of what he could make for breakfast. He was a picky eater, and a health freak so he needs to eat something healthy and delicious at the same time. He grabbed some ingredients from the cupboard and decided to cook some banana pancakes made out of bananas, almond milk, eggs, and the flour he got from Poland.

Cooking always kept him calm, and he enjoyed every moment of it. Fortunately, he was famished and ate everything he cooked. He sat on one of his stools and scrolled through his social media account. His twitter was filled with the Black Lives Matter matter and he was furious that some people are treating it as a trend when in fact, it was something that was important to know and to fight for. He signed a lot of petitions already, and he shared every petitions to his 19 million followers. His fans need to educate themselves that Black lives mattered way before this movement started, and all lives won't matter unless black lives do.

Harry rolled his eyes when he saw several celebrities not even doing anything to voice out about BLM, and even a few of them were his so called friends. "I need to cancel these people from my life."

An hour passed, and Harry was driving his car to Universe, the publishing company wherein he got employed to. As usual, traffic irritated him a lot, and he took his frustrations out by banging his fist on the steering wheel, whispering incoherent swearing.

"What a fucking day," Harry groaned, leaning his head back and waiting for the signal to go green. He was late for the meeting and he would get beef from Zayn and Liam if he wasn't there in less than five minutes. "Pricks."

A meeting with his bosses is the last thing that Harry needed right now. He doesn't need them telling him to get his act straight and publish another book filled with loveless poetry and prose, as if writing a damn book was easy. Sometimes, he wondered where his passion of writing went.

The signal light turned green, and Harry was so lost in his sea of thoughts that he didn't notice someone crossing the road. His eyes widened in panic and stepped on the break quickly, his heart beating like a mad horse on the loose. "Motherfucker."

The cars behind him went to overtake him and passed slowly to see the drama go down. Harry got out of the car and slammed the door shut, glaring at the passerby.

"Do you not have fucking eyes, mate?" Stomping hurriedly to the man's side, Harry halted his movements as he takes in the beauty in front of him.

A few steps from him lays a man with such beauty and grace written on his face, and Harry wonders if he was sculpted by the gods. He eyes the man in front of him ad if he was gonna disappear any second from now.  Ethereal. That was the only thing Harry could think of as he stared at the stranger.

"What the fuck, mate," The unknown man exclaimed, eyes wandering around as if he was finding something. "I'm fucking blind, you fucking loser!"

Harry snapped out from his trance, and helped the man out. Realization dawned into him; the man was blind, and he just insulted and almost killed him.

"I'm really sorry, mate. I was in a hurry and didn't notice you were, well--" Harry went to his side and helped him up, checking for anything alarming.

The man scoffed, gripping his stick tighter, "A fucking blind?"

Harry scratched the back of his head before guiding him to sit down on a bench outside a cafe. He honestly felt so guilty. "Let me make it up to you after I park my car somewhere."

After doing so, Harry went back to bench to find it empty. He was about to panic when his eyes drifted inside the cafe wherein the man was sitting down with tea in his hand. The green eyed man stepped inside the cozy cafe and sat in front of the blue eyed beauty.

"I'm really sorry, about that, uhm?" Harry quietly said  with shame laced in his tone. He couldn't stop staring at him now that he was up front.

"Louis Tomlinson," The man, Louis, said, a smile plastered on his face. "And it's fine."

Harry repeated the name several times in his head, and it sounded like royalty. "I'm Harry Styles, and I would really like to make it up to you."

Louis laughs, and Harry decided that it was now his favorite sound. "Well, Harry Styles, you could start making up to me by paying for this drink."

"That's it?" Harry asked, and he wishes Louis could see that he was staring at him in a non creepy way.

"Yes, that's it."

Time seemed to be a foreign object to both Harry and Louis as they chatted away their heart out. It seemed so long when Harry last smiled and laughed like this. They talked about their hobbies, family and friends, and life in general. Louis even asked for Harry to read to him his poetry since he was a fan of poetry and prose before he went blind. Harry agreed happily to do so, and promised him a day full of poetry tomorrow.

Bidding farewell to Louis was the hardest after dropping him off in his house. He drove away with giddiness, like a high schooler with a new crush. His head was just filled Louis, and he couldn't wait to write an art about a living art. 

Harry arrived at the building he was supposed to be inside an hour ago, and hurriedly went up to the 19th floor to look for Liam and Zayn.

"I'm in dee trouble," Harry mumbles as he smiled at an employee who got inside the elevator.

After what seemed like forever, Harry the elevator doors opened and he walked towards the meeting hall, mind still clouded of the thoughts filled with Louis. He wants to keep the latter forever and cuddle with him as long as he can, and be with him until time runs out. His blue eyes was intoxicating, bluer than the Pacific Ocean.  Harry thought of ways that he could make those eyes light up like the brightest and warmest star in the whole galaxy.

Harry pushed the door open, and he honestly looked so space out. Liam and Zayn were sitting on their usual seats, and a few other people were inside as well. He could careless that he was an hour late, he was glad that he was.

"Harry, where the hell have you be--"

"Liam, shut up," Harry cuts him off, a dopey smile tattooed on his face. "I'm fucking in love."

The meeting ended quickly, and Harry just sat there like a love sick baby, not even listening to whatever bullshit his bosses utters out. He was just so consumed with Louis, Louis and Louis. Everything about him as unreal; how could someone as perfect as him exist? His beauty alone could make Aphrodite run for her money.

The room that was filled with people moments ago, was left with Liam, Zayn and Harry, who didn't even noticed that the meeting was adjourned.

"Harry, snap out of it, mate," Zayn laughed, patting Harry on the head. "Congratulations, by the way."

Harry giggled, sighing in content. "Thanks, Z, at least someone is happy for me." He pointedly said it for Liam who was busy typing on his laptop.

"I am happy for you, H," Liam halted his typing and glanced at Harry. "But you're an hour late. I would've forgiven you if you were ten minutes late but an hour, really?"

"Hush, Liam," Zayn walked behind Liam, massaging his tense shoulder. The latter leaned back and groaned, rolling his eyes at Harry. "The kid is in love, let him be."

"Yeah, Liam, be a cool boss like Zaynie here," Harry said, shifting on his seat to be more comfortable. "You should be thankful for Louis actually."

"And why should I be?"

"Because I'm writing again."

That seemed to move Liam and Zayn, whose lips were parted in shock. They couldn't believe what they were hearing. Harry didn't and couldn't write anything for a year and a half now, and hearing him say that he's back on track, was like hearing the angels singing.

"For real?" Zayn asked, still in complete disbelief. He sat in front of Harry and placed his palm on the other man's forehead. "You're not sick."

Harry snorted and took Zayn's hand from his forehead. "I'm not, you ass!"

"Did we hear you right?" Liam, just like Zayn, was also in disbelief. "You're gonna write again?"

"Yeah, I couldn't resist not writing about Louis," Harry nodded, smiling at Liam and Zayn, which startled them for the reason being that they didn't see him genuinely smile for so long. "No poet could resist writing about a masterpiece."

Liam nodded, and glanced at Zayn who still couldn't believe what he was hearing. "We are happy for you, and you have our full support."

"What the fuck, Liam we have to call the publisher and make millions and millions of copies," Zayn exclaimed, shaking Liam who was chuckling. "Even so, it would still be sold out under a minute."

"I'm going to write when I get home," Harry announced, standing up to his feet and pocketed his car keys.

"What are you gonna name the book?" Liam asked from the table, getting ready to phone a few important people.

Harry smiled, his dimples were popping out like the craters of the moon. His green eyes were shining like the greenest shade of a lovely gem.

"Louis."