BLACKHOUSE [H.S.]

Forty-Two

• • •

Harry tried to help me cook, but after another failed attempt at making eggs, he finally sat down on one of the stools at the counter across from me, his chin resting in his palm as he watched me.

I'll hand it to him, he really did try to be useful, but he had no idea what he was doing, so I eventually just took over all together. I didn't mind, though. I like to cook; I was just happy to be there with him.

Taking the last bite of pancake from my plate, I set my fork down, and glance up to see him staring at me. "What?" I ask him, raising a brow in confusion.

He smirks at me from across the table, shrugging his shoulders. "I just like looking at you."

My cheeks flush, and I roll my eyes, covering my face with my hands. "Stop," I groan with a chuckle.

I feel his hand wrap around my wrist as he pulls it away from my face, and I stick my bottom lip out in a pout as I let my other hand fall to the table in front of me. His eyes are full of adoration as they scan my face, and he pulls the ring in his lip between his teeth before speaking up.

"Let's go to the beach," he suggests, making me furrow my brows.

"Harry, it's like fifty-five degrees outside," I state, looking out at the gray sky through the window.

Normally, LA doesn't get very cold in December, but the last few days have been pretty chilly. I can see the thick storm clouds rolling in, and I know it'll be raining in a few hours.

"So?" He says. "I just want to walk in the sand. We don't have to get in the water."

I purse my lips, considering his request. I hate the cold, and I just know it'll be even colder by the water, but when he's looking at me like he's an injured puppy, it's hard to say no.

"I don't really have anything warm enough to wear," I explain.

"You can wear one of my sweatshirts," he says, nodding in the direction of his bedroom. "I'll keep you warm, don't worry."

I roll my eyes, deciding to give in just to make him happy. "Fine," I groan, pushing my seat back.

Harry stands up, fisting his arm in the air excitedly before walking towards me to plant a kiss on my forehead. "Yes! Go grab whatever you need from my closet while I clean up."

I giggle to myself, shaking my head as I make my way down the hall towards his room. Behind me, I hear him begin to whistle to himself as he places the dirty dishes in the sink.

A small smile grows on my lips as I place my hand over the necklace he gave me a few nights ago, my fingers brushing over the cool, blue glass.

A reminder of how hard I fell for you when I held you on that beach...

His words have been on repeat, as if they're branded into my mind, since that night. He's been so happy since Christmas Eve; it's like he's a completely different person from the one that I met on my first day at Blackhouse. I mean, he even tried making me breakfast. He nearly burned his apartment down in the process, but he tried nonetheless.

Over the last few days, I've learned so many little things about him that have made me fall even more in love than I thought was possible, like how he tries to make tea every night before bed because it helps him sleep better.

Or, how he rescued a puppy from the side of the road when he was in primary school, named her Pringles, and begged his mom to let him keep her, which she did. Pringles lived until he was in his final year of secondary school, and he said it broke him so badly that he swore he would never get another dog, but lately he's been reconsidering.