killer instinct - || h.s. ||

51

"Fuck! Harry–" I softly laugh, and he tears back to allow me to breathe. "Okay, okay," I breathe out with this matching grin on my face, and his green eyes sparkle down on me.

He snickers in pride and leans back down to my brush the tip of his nose against mine. My heart skips multiple beats to stir through my stomach.

I hold my breath, afraid of my morning breath clashing with the fresh mint radiating off him. His mouth teases against mine, and I roll closer to him to capture his lips against mine.

But the British fucker draws back, ripping the momentary bliss from me with that god-awful smirk on his face. "You can get that if you get your ass out of bed," he gently pats my cheek, and I scoff at him – baffled.

"Harry–" I groan as he rolls away, taking the warm body heat from me. The bed shifts as he gets off his bed to tower back to his height.

"Rory–" he mocks my tone as he readjusts the waistband of his shorts before walking away with that smirk still on his face.

I huff as I listen to his footsteps bounce down the stairs, and fade out to the clatter through his kitchen. I sigh, loosening my smile with that relieving breath. My mind goes numb again, and I stare out at the doorway to his bathroom awaiting me.

Throwing the comforter off of me, I inhale while lifting off the bed. My bare feet hit the cold hardwood, and I trudge into the bathroom to the colder tile beneath my feet. I rub at my dry eyes while heading to the sink, and find this awful reflection of myself staring back.

My hair sticks up in different directions at the back of my head, and a light purple hue runs under my eyes from sleep that only comes in waves. I sigh at the sight of myself with his t-shirt practically falling off a shoulder.

I grab my red toothbrush, squeeze out minty toothpaste over the bristles, and then wet the bristles before sticking it into my mouth. I brush my teeth, half-asleep, to foam the potent mint over my teeth to cleanse out my mouth. I scrub my tongue and lean over to spit into the sink.

I wash it off and stick my toothbrush into the toothbrush holder next to his pink one. Then I use his face wash and scrub my face in suds to clean my tired skin. I wash the soap off with ice-cold water, hoping to feel something from the chill.

I pat my face dry and sniffle lightly. I use his moisturizer, slowly rubbing it into my face before cleaning it all up. I run my fingers through my hair, and part my hair three ways before simply braiding it.

I take a deep breath and empty out my lungs entirely before turning around. I trek out into his platform room to the smell of bacon wafting through the air. Stepping down the stairs, I make my way through his loft flooded with the golden sunlight.

I turn to walk through the open living room and find him facing away from me at the stove.

My footsteps stay quiet as I watch the muscles of his back flex while he flips something in a pan. I reach the island and slip up into the stool.

Just as Harry turns around with the pan gripped in his hand, displaying the veins running up his inked forearm. I take him by surprise as I sit in front of the plate full of avocado toast, hash, and bacon. He proudly smiles at me.

"Look at that, she finally got up," he murmurs, sliding half of the scrambled white eggs onto my plate next to the other breakfast foods.

"Thank you," I mumble while he slides the other half onto his plate beside me. He turns to place the pan down on the stovetop to cool.

He hums as he trails over to me with forks, and sets one down next to me. I flicked my eyes down to the shiny silver fork next to my plate. "Must have really wanted that kiss?" He arrogantly hums, and I glance up at him grinning down at me.