[H.S] Shots

valentine's day

“Happy Valentine’s day, angel.”

(Y/N) woke slowly to the sound of Harry’s voice, the gentle tracing of his fingertips gliding over her cheeks. She felt Evie curled around her feet, warming her as she blinked her eyes open. She tried to focus on the sight before her with the film of sleep hazing her sight. Usually, Harry was up and about with the curtains parted and his disposition much sunnier than she could muster before ten, but today she found him still snuggled in the sheets beside her. At some point in the night, they had shifted from their spooning position and (Y/N) now found herself sharing his pillow with one of his arms thrown over her middle and his thigh pushed between her legs. His curls were fluffed against the black satin of his pillow case and sleep was still harbored in his eyes. The curtains were drawn tight, blocking out any of the light that he typically bathed the room in while waiting for her to wake up.

“What?” (Y/N) mumbled, her voice soaked in sleep and words just as unintelligible as her dreams.

Harry breathed a soft laugh, the exhale fanning across (Y/N)’s skin as her eyes fell shut again. “I said, happy Valentine’s Day. ’S our first one together.”

“It is?” she peeped, pulling her hand from under his black duvet to rub at her eye. The morning still didn’t feel real in her fuzzied state, the warmth of sleep dredging her down.

A breath of a laugh came from Harry, his own hand curling around her wrist to pull it from scrubbing at her eye. “It is, baby,” he punctuated his sentence with a kiss to her palm, “Was thinking we could make breakfast together, what do y'think? Or y'can wait for me here and I’ll bring us breakfast in bed when it’s ready.”

“I wanna help you,” she mumbled though she sunk down deeper in the warmth of his bedding. She typically would jump at the chance of sleeping her morning away and being woken by Harry and a steaming breakfast plate, but (Y/N) didn’t want to waste this day with him.

Despite the hazed slip in her morning memory, she had been very aware and very excited for the fourteenth of February this year. She always had a bit of an affinity towards that time of the year,  a special spot in her heart for all of the pink and hearts and love that filled the air. She’d never had a reason to celebrate the day though, most of the time keeping to herself and maybe indulging in a couple of sappy romantic movies she could sneak around her parents and secretly reveling in the affectionate air around her. The feeling of jealousy wasn’t something she felt around the season, but she couldn’t deny the fact she’d wished and hoped and prayed that maybe she could one day be a part of the smiling couples swinging their joined hands and boasting armfuls of flowers and chocolates.

Now, she had that. And she didn’t want to waste any of this day, especially not when he gazed at her so sleepily and so willing to take any answer from her.

(Y/N) blinked the remaining film of sleep from her eyes before shuffling closer to Harry. She bridged the gap between their lips by leaning forward and matching her mouth to his. Harry smiled against her kiss, lacing their fingers together. He gently guided her through the kiss, softly pulling her bottom lip between his two. It was a slow, clumsy morning kiss with Harry’s curls tickling (Y/N)’s neck and her bubbling heartbeat fluttering through her. She loved that he didn’t care about morning breath, there was no way she could start her days without something this sweet.

Harry was the first to pull away, placing his freehand on the soft of her cheek. He blinked his eyes open and gazed down at her with a melted softness warming his irises. His thumb grazed her cheekbone affectionately as his eyes traced her features.

“(Y/N)?”

She couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of anxiety stick her at the sound of her name, used to Harry only calling her by the list of pet names he had donned her. “Yeah?” she peeped.