He had been wondering if Oliver had heeded his warnings and given up on him, and Harry hadn't felt a rather large pang over his wondering, no, not at all.
Faelan had finally come home for a few dinners over the past week, but they still hadn't talked about anything of consequence, so Harry knew Oliver hadn't contacted his brother yet. He had tried to draw Faelan out, not for his own sake, but to help the obviously depressed boy, but even the prospect of a Quidditch outing couldn't rouse Faelan.
Now, reading Oliver's letter, Harry's heart beat a double staccato in his chest. Yours. Harry didn't understand how Oliver could be that interested in him, but it didn't stop the younger man from feeling warmer at the very thought that someone might want to belong to him. If only he could bring himself to give his heart away again as quickly.
Oliver Dear Oliver -
I'm glad Faelan will talk to you because he won't open up to me at all. As much as I would like to be with you to explore our feelings further, maybe you shouldn't even talk to Faelan about us right away. He needs someone he can count on, and if it can't be me, maybe it will be you. I'm used to waiting, so don't worry about taking your time with him. It kills me that I can't
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking of you, too.