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LOUIS' POV

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a smell of sweetness and .... tea? fill my nostrils as i open my eyes, clouded from sleep.

stretching out my sleep riddled limbs, wiping away the tiredness from my eyes. finally i see a stack of pancakes and a fruit bowl filled with, strawberries, grapes, and pineapples.

what the fuck....

i look up to see harry with a shy grin on his face, looking at me sheepishly. "thought you might want breakfast." his voice is deep and raspy, no trace of sleep.

there goes my resolve.

i look over to the clock on my bed side table reading 8:01. holy shit. he must've woken up so early. there isn't any pancake mix here, nor fruits.

he.... he went to the store? for me? i hate him so much right now because i don't hate him. if that makes sense?

i've been trying so hard to find everything wrong with him. trying so hard to not fall into his trap. but when he makes falling look this good it's hard not too.

so i hate him.

"um... thank you, love." my voice breaks, from not using it for hours. i sit up in my bed taking the plate from his hands. he goes to sit down on my bed but retracts instantly, "i'll get going now." he whispers.

i shake my head, my self control gone as soon as he woke me up, "no, you....you can sit." i say quietly, just above a whisper.

he nods with a small soft smile playing on his lips. he looks down to where he is going to take a seat trying to stifle his expression, "okay." he replies.

all that time trying to hate him and he just ... cooks me breakfast, and i'm at his feet again. i'm weak, what the hell.

it's been a few weeks of me ignoring him, annoying him, or even just arguing with him. i've done everything in my power to force my feelings down. but no, he doesn't like my plan, so he goes and cooks me fucking breakfast.

that is the meanest and sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. it's beyond frustrating.

after a few bites of the food, and him just sitting there, staring at everything but me. i give in and say, "why did you do this?" i take a bite out of a strawberry.

he jerks his head up at my voice, shrugging his shoulders, "um... you've been mad at me a lot. so, i thought this would make you stop." he forces out a nervous laugh.

i roll my eyes, "really? you care that much about if i like you or not?" i stare at him with my brows raised.

he shrugs again, "it's annoying when you argue with me twenty-four, seven." he draws his lips into a thin line.

i get that, i would be pissed to if someone was trying to tick me off all the time. he did not have to come ruin my plan and make me fall into his little manipulative trap while at it though.

after a few more minutes of silence, except the sounds of my chewing and the silverware on the dirty plate, he asks. "why did you get mad out of no where though?" he places one hand on the opposite side of my leg.

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