37 | red

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Sorry this is late! I actually had a life for once this weekend lol xxx
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My stalker never came for me. I should be happy. Hell, I should be thrilled. But something still doesn't feel right. I feel like I'm missing something. Something obvious, as if I should have figured it out long ago. And maybe if I weren't so terrified all the time, I could think straight and figure it out.

The past few days have felt like weeks. Particularly my birthday, which really was just yesterday, although my party already feels like half a lifetime ago.

Somehow Harry's room had come to be more comfortable for me than my own. More calming and reassuring. So when we finally collapsed into his sheets--after locking just about every door between us and the outside--we both fell asleep from utter exhaustion.

Now, with Harry's head in the crook of my neck and half his body nearly on top of mine as he snores, it all feels so... normal. It's comforting the way his arms feel heavy as they are wrapped around my waist. It feels like home.

Harry's hair tickles my nose and I push it back, careful not to wake him, but it just flops forward again.

Too comfortable to try and move out from under him, I lay for a moment, just holding his hair out of my face. But my arm quickly grows tired.

His hair has been getting so long lately. In fact, when I first met him the ends just barely brushed his collar and now it easily reaches his shoulders.

I glance at the clock on the bedside table. Only half registering the time in my head when I spot one of my hair-ties next to Harry's wallet.

Careful not to wake him, I stretch to reach it. And once it's in my hand I smile and immidiately start brushing his hair back with my fingers.

His snoring slowly subsides and his arms tighten around my waist as soon as I have sucessfully twisted his hair into a rather attractive bun. But he doesn't fully wake up for another few minutes, in which I spend admiring how he looks with his hair like this. I'll have to try to get him to wear it like this more often.

When he finally decides to wake up, he kisses my neck before moving his head back onto his own pillow. "Morning, cupcake."

I can't help the giggle that escapes my lips from his random use of a new nickname along with the sensual tone of his morning voice.

He cracks one eye open and smiles over at me before closing his eyes and pulling me closer, kissing my shoulder.

After a moment of silence, his brow furrows in confusion and his hand reaches up to the bun I created while he was sleeping.

"Why did you give me a new hairstyle in my sleep?" He grumbles but I can feel the smile on his lips which are still pressed to my shoulder.

"Your hair was getting in my face." I reply with a srug, causing my shoulder to bump into his face.

He playfully bites my shoulder before sitting up and looking at his appearance in the mirror doors of his closet.

I bite my lip as he inspects my handiwork on his hair. His chest is bare and the sheets bunch around his waist. Suddenly I have the urge to mark the skin of his chest and neck like he does to me. I want to run my hands--

"My hair doesn't look half bad like this." He admits.

"I like it." I nod. "It's kinda hot."

"Who knew I could work a bun." He smirks down at me as I lay on my back, still admiring how utterly attractive he is this early in the morning.

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