Yo. Any of you who read this fic, please also read and review my newest HxHr one-shot, The One I'm Waiting For. It's really good, but I have a lack of reviews. And it makes me sad. I like this one-shot a lot too. HxHr, Harry's POV.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
NOTICE: This is dedicated to Phoenix (A boy who takes my bus. He won't tell us his real name, so we call him Phoenix) for no real reason. Just because I feel like it.
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I remember hands. So soft, tangled in mine.
I remember hands. So warm, caressing my face lovingly.
I remember hands. So delicate, brushing the hair out of my eyes.
I remember hands. So cold, drenched in blood.
I remember hands. So pale, making me shiver when I looked at them.
I remember hands. So lonely, without my hands in them.
The hands all belong to that of Harry potter. His hands are what made him so amazing. He could say so much with a simple touch. A tiny gesture. Then were magnificent. I was always a firm believer in 'actions speak louder than words'. And I always will be.
Harry helped me see that it really was true. He said "I love you" over and over again. But, his hands showed that he meant it.
When he would take my hand, he'd give it a gentle squeeze. Just to do that was so amazing. He was saying so much.
Over analytical. That's what they call me. But I believe that when he did that, he was saying that he was there. And was never leaving. But, considering the circumstances, maybe I was over analyzing. Because Harry is gone. Forever.
I look at my hands. They aren't anything special. Boring, one might say. I wish my hands could speak, like Harry's could. My hands COULD speak at one point. They were special, just like his. But without his hands in mine, they are just hands. Just hands.
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Eh, not my best. But that's okay. PLEASE review! R&R, and remember, flames are for arsonists!
