A/N: This came to me and I couldn't help but write it. Dedicated to the person I love that I've never had the guts to tell.
Disclaimer: I only own the poem.
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It was December 18th and Harry decided he couldn't take it anymore. There was one week to go till Christmas and he still hadn't done it. Every time he tried to say it his throat had tightened and instead of declaring never ending love he'd ended up choking on thin air
Frustratedly Harry kicked his bedside table and swore as the delicate crystal model of a phoenix the Ron had bought him for his twentieth birthday toppled over and its head fell off. Pulling his wand out of his pocket he magiced it back together. For a moment he admired the small figurine, thinking of the present waiting for him to pluck up the courage, hidden in a pair of rolled up socks.
He was hit by sudden inspiration. If he couldn't tell them that he loved him, maybe a poem would do. Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill he began scribbling.
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Ron sighed with relief as he finally made it home. It was seven o'clock on Christmas Eve and he'd only just managed to get away from work.
He pushed the door to his bedroom open, kicking off his shoes and sending them flying towards the bed. He followed them moments later, flinging himself down onto the squishy mattress and flopping his head against his pillow. A small crunching noise made him sit up again. He had lain his head against a piece of parchment.
"I don't remember you," Ron told the parchment, picking it up and beginning to read.
You mean the whole world to me
You're the sun in my sky
You make me feel warm and safe
Just by being by.
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I've never been able to say it before
But maybe this will do
I need you by my side forever
Do you need me too?
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I don't know if you feel the same
I'm hoping that you do
I had to say it this one time
Ron, I love you.
"I didn't know you could write poetry, Harry," said Ron, without looking up.
"I needed to find a way to tell you how I feel," said Harry's voice from the doorway.
"It's perfect," said Ron moving over to stand before Harry and pressing a gentle kiss to Harry's lips "But we have been living together for two years. I think I'd kind of guessed."
"Oh," said Harry, blushing "Well, if you knew then maybe this is a better Christmas present.
He dug around in his sock drawer for a few moments before pulling out a particularly ugly maroon pair.
"Err, Harry, I hate maroon," said Ron but Harry ignored him.
"Marry me?" Harry asked, pulling a delicate silver band from inside the socks and dropping down onto one knee.
Ron looked at the band uneasily for a few moments and Harry felt his heart sink but then Ron started nodding and his face split into a wide grin. Ron held out his hand and let Harry slip the silver band onto his finger.
"You still haven't said you love me, you know," said Ron as Harry stood up.
Harry smiled at this and leant forward to tenderly brush his lips across Ron, before pressing closer and gently massaging Ron's lips with his tongue. Ron opened his mouth eagerly and Harry plunged his tongue inside, exploring every nook and cranny, making Ron moan in delight.
They broke apart, gasping for breath, flushed red, their hearts pounding madly.
"Eloquently put," said Ron, grinning happily, taking Harry's hand and leading him back towards their bed.
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A/N: So what do you think? The poem's a bit naff but it's all that I could come up with.
