Skinny Dipping -H.S

Do you like the view?

SCARLETT'S POV:

    I wake up, and can't recognize the walls around me. I sit up right away, swinging my arms in karate motion, looking around quickly. My eyes scan and land on Harry who has his phone in his hand. He's looking at me with one eyebrow raised, like I'm insane, and then he shakes his head.

    "I thought you'd grow out of that." He speaks in a morning voice, you know the kind, the ones that are deeper, and sexy, and make me want to light myself on fire because I shouldn't feel that way about him but I do?

    "I don't know what you're talking about." I lay myself back down, and he pushes himself up, moving the large blanket off of him.

    "You never remember where you are when you wake up." He tells me, standing up fully, and I remember the shirt being tossed at me last night, the one that's sitting on the ottoman right in front of me. The one I hope he continues to ignore right now. He walks past it, adjusting where his joggers sit on his hips, and retying them as well. I watch him, and he reaches down to the ottoman, and I watch his hand avoid the shirt, and reach for the remote. He turns over his shoulder, and clicks it. The electric curtains start to rise and the sun starts to pour in. He clicks the music too, and the Bee Gees start playing over the speaker softly. He walks forward, leaving the remote on the ottoman, and walking away.

    "You coming?" He asks with his back turned before he turns over his shoulder, eyeing me, smirking and continuing into the kitchen. I get up, and follow him into the kitchen, internally cursing, wondering how he looks like one of those marble sculptures of a greek god when he wakes up in the morning, and I look like the creatures in the oceans that no one has discovered yet because they're so far down that humans can't even contact them... That's fair, thanks God, or whoever the hell made me.

    I sit at the counter that separates the living room from the kitchen on one of the spinning bar stools. I stretch my arms out, and yawn, and then cross them on the counter, looking forward to Harry as he cracks an egg on the pan. I hear it sizzle, and watch his arms, and his back too. His muscles flex, and I see his tattoos move with his muscles too as he moves around his kitchen. If I was living in my dream world, he never would have left, and I wouldn't be staring at someone I hate, but my soon to be husband or something, but- No.. I couldn't date him in the first place. We've been over this Scarlett.

    "Do you still hate eggs?" He asks, looking over his shoulder. I raise my eyebrows as he catches me staring.

    "Hm?" I ask.. Subtle Scarlett, really subtle.

    "You don't eat eggs?" He asks, remembering another thing about me from years ago. I nod my head. "Alright then." He reaches up into his counter, pulling out two plates, and then he walks to his pantry, pulling out bagels that look fresh instead of the ones you buy in the bread section at the grocery store. Rich ass... He places the bagel into his toaster, and then goes back to the egg. "Do you like the view?" He asks, and I lean my head forward, wondering if he really just asked me that.

    "Pardon?" I ask.

    "The view.." He turns over his shoulder with his spatula in hand. I look at him with wide eyes, knowing there's nothing I can say, obviously I was staring, and obviously I enjoyed it or else I wouldn't have been staring in the first place. "The view Scar, it's not a hard question." He points behind me, and smirks, and I look over my shoulder.

    "The.. The view, yeah. It's better from your bedroom." I agree.

"You're right the view would be better from there." He replies in a snarky voice, and I roll my eyes, knowing he's smirking as he's turned around right now. Cocky ass motherfucker. He brings me a bagel and cream cheese, as well as a knife. He brings his plate with his egg and a piece of toast and sits next to me, eating silently just as I am.