Nightingale

fifty-eight

To keep myself busy I made some coffee since that's the only food-ish item we have in the new house. I should really go grocery shopping today for stuff to make dinner tomorrow. As I drink my coffee I start hanging up some paintings in the living room while hooking my phone up to a bluetooth speaker that's been here since we started working on the house, playing some classics. A Sunday Kind Of Love by Etta James is the first song to come on. I hum along to the song as I hang up one of the paintings I bought a while back. It's been stored in the garage of the old house because I didn't really know where to hang it up but it's perfect for the living room. It's an abstract painting with a mix of green and blue. I've debated asking Martha for Birdie's paintings since I can guarantee they are all still in the attic, hidden away just like she used to do with me. I doubt she'd be heartbroken parting with them but it's also Martha and she loves to make everything seem like a personal attack towards her.

As At last by Etta James plays I start dancing my way back towards the kitchen, rinsing out my used coffee mug before putting it away. As I close the cabinet a pair of hands quickly cover my eyes. Panic quickly fills my body but dissipates just as quickly as it arrived when the sound of my favorite voice whispers into my left ear. "Guess who."

I chuckle a bit pretending to think of who it could be, "hmm I don't know. There's so many people you could be."

"I'm gone for a week and you've already started to forget about me. What am I to do with you?" Harry covers my eyes, placing his hands on my hips before spinning me around to face him and pressing my lower back against the counter that was just front of me. I don't hesitate to stand up onto my toes, wrapping my hands behind his neck and crashing my lips against his.

Harry lets out a hum of satisfaction, digging his fingertips into my hips like he's holding on for dear life. I take a deep breath, the oxygen filling my lungs is making me feel like I haven't actually been breathing since he left. My whole existence revolves around him, like the moon revolves around the earth. We continue to just take every bit of each other in, kissing in the kitchen as music plays from the living room, not a care in the world about anything besides each other.

Harry is the one to break our kiss, moving one of his hands from my waist to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. "Hi beautiful."

"Hi H. How was your flight?" I sheepishly say as I stare at the wide smile painted across his lips.

"Long. I could use a nap to be frank with you."

"Well there's a bed upstairs now, courtesy of Elton."

"I fired him by the way." Harry says matter-of-factly with a roll of his eyes.

"Really?"

"Of course, why would I keep him around after what he did to you and Callie?"

"Good point." I shrug and grab Harry's hand to guide him into the living room with me. I turn down the music so it's softly playing now before we sit down on the couch. "Everything here is pretty much done, I've just been decorating for tomorrow."

"I see that. I love it, you did a really good job Carolina." Harry takes in his surroundings a bit before turning his attention back to me, "though I was surprised when Gemma told you were here. I figured you would be waiting with them."

"That was the plan originally but there was just so much that had to be done here and I just wanted everything to be perfect. I've never hosted Christmas before so I'm a little stressed out." I explain, deciding to leave out that I haven't slept in 24 hours.

"It took 2 days to decorate the tree and hang up mistletoe?" Harry raises a brow at me which has me pretending to be confused. "Gemma didn't forget to leave out that you've been here for the past 2 nights. Leaving after midnight and not coming back until the afternoon the next day. Is that just because of stress or because of something else?"