Funeral barges and winter wildflowers dancing in his eyes, he gathered his courage and crawled over to Harry’s side, smoothing his hair out of his eyes and shaking his shoulder gently.
“The sun’s up,” he called softly. “Harry?” his voice slipped an octave and trembled a little. “Harry.”
But Harry didn’t stir.
- Beautiful World by Cinnamon.
by morsmordre-lights












