Hookd - Tumblr Posts
@hookd.
" harry? " she reaches for his hand, gentle fingers curling around harry's own to touch at his attention, gentle as she can be. it's just the two of them, just them in this quiet, quiet room. it's harder to be quiet inside, when there's no rustle of wind and grass and the chirp of birds. but they can't open the window, lest they let the cold spill in, freeze them over and turn them sharp and jagged. she feels colder already, the tips of her fingers finding warmth in his skin, which worries her. no one likes to touch something so cold, and she's already so unpleasant, with winter hollowing her out and weighing her down. but harry's visits keep fixing her, allowing cracks of light through the windows and doors. the fairy girl presses closer to him, up against his side and under his outstretched arm. " this winter feels like it'll never end. "
“ hookd. ”
even in the warmth of the cabin, harry can feel the cold that seeps into it; maybe not physical, but an emotional cold that wraps around you and leaves you feeling lonely. it's not so bad with allie, and he does his best to spread his warmth outwards, to let it make its home, to be the sun for her, like she so often is for him. she calls his name and takes his fingers in hers. they're cold, of course, but he doesn't mind; life on the isle has left him more used to being uncomfortable than not, and he easily wraps his his hand around hers, giving it a soft squeeze. and then she moves into his side, and he holds her close, tucking her into his side and kissing the top of her head. "i know, sunflower, i wish i could make it come sooner. i'll keep you warm if you can't do it yourself, okay?"
she presses her fingers into his palms and feeling the warmth, feeling for it greedily. " how do you ... how do you stay warm on a boat? the water's so cold, even- even colder than here. and it's so cold here, 'cause it's so lonely. " then, she supposes, maybe that's why it's not so cold there. " i would need, like, so so many blankets. " she fades back to silence, letting his warmth cover them. her voice, while unused, doesn't ache, nothing does. nothing but her heart, but even that is weak, barely squeezing in her chest. so light, it feels like a hug. the fire has been lit since he got here, but she can't remember which one of them had done it. " i don't feel very much like a sunflower right now ... " she feels like she's wilting, getting so small and shriveled no one could ever want her. " i'm sorry, that's not ... that's not fair. "
happy birthday allie we love you so much!!! harry has collected some cool rocks in a heart shaped bottle for you <3
allie birfday 🥳🥳🥳, accepting always.
allie clutches the rocks to her chest, her heart, just as the shape suggests, bouncing on her toes as she does so, looking up at him. " thank you, thank you! they're- they're all so nice and lovely and i can- i can feel them! i can feel where they've been, and- and i can feel where you've been! " it feels like a little piece of adventure- his adventures -wrapped up with a sweet little bow, or a jar of glass. it's squished between the two of them in an impulsive hug, her arms thrown around him as she presses up to the tips of her toes. " i love you so much, thank you, harry! "
“ hookd. ”
harry grips her hand tightly, wanting to give as much warmth as she's trying to take. her question draws out a gentle sigh, but he answers, because he always wants to be honest with her. "you don't. you bundle up, and when it gets real cold, you find a buddy." he gives her shoulders a squeeze at that. "so many blankets, exactly." he wants to help her, so badly does he wish he could blow the clouds away and let the sun warm her back up. he doesn't need her to be bright all the time, he just wants her to be happy. he shakes his head. "it doesn't need to be fair. you don't have to be a sunflower around me all the time, alright? not unless you feel it. all your bad feelings are safe with me too, not just the good ones."
it's her fault, and not even in the sad way, it's just true. she buries herself here, with all of her blankets and no buddies. it's silly, but she falls into it year after year, so much that she's stuck. like mud, but not the fun kind that feels like a hug. the kind that feels like a grave. but mud has never felt that way before, even that is still filled with life, and warm. so concrete, maybe. hard and stiff and unfeeling. allie draws her knees into her chest, and she feels like shaking. " but i ... i don't know how to do that. " her bottom lip quivers, pouting in a way that feels pathetic. " i don't know how to talk about the bad stuff, it all just feels ... bad. i don't know, like ... the words ... "