The Only Exception | W2S

THIRTY EIGHT.

The next morning, I wake up to the scent of fresh coffee and something warm pressed against my back. It takes me a moment to register the weight of Harry's arm draped lazily over my waist, his breath steady against my neck.

For a brief second, I let myself savor the warmth, the comfort of him, before the events of last night rush back into my mind.

New York. Christmas. My parents knowing about Harry before I even told them.

I roll over slightly, careful not to wake him, but his grip tightens instinctively.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice is thick with sleep, but there's amusement laced in it too. His green eyes blink open, and even with his messy curls and the faint crease on his cheek from my pillow, he still somehow looks ridiculously attractive.

"Nowhere," I mumble, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw before stretching. "But I do need tea."

As if on cue, there's a soft knock at the door, and before I can say anything, Jess pokes her head in. "Good, you're awake," she grins, holding up a tray. "Thought you might want breakfast in bed, birthday girl."

I narrow my eyes at her suspiciously as she walks in, placing the tray on my lap. There's a steaming cup of coffee, toast, and a small bowl of berries. "Okay, what's the catch?"

"No catch," she sings, perching at the foot of my bed. "I just love you. And also, maybe, I wanted to make sure you weren't too mad about the whole 'telling Mum and Dad about Harry' thing."

I take a sip of coffee, letting the warmth spread through me, before sighing. "I mean... I wish I got to tell them first, but I get it. You were excited."

Jess claps her hands together. "Exactly! And they were actually cool about it. Mum said, and I quote, 'About time she found someone decent.'"

Harry lets out a laugh beside me. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"She also wants to have dinner with you before we go to New York," Jess adds. "Dad too."

I groan, flopping back against the pillows. "Of course she does."

"I'm great at meeting parents," Harry adds in, and I shoot him a look that shuts him up very quickly.

"Jess, thank you for breakfast, we are going to enjoy that now, if that's alright," I say, and she understands the hint, backing out of my room.

"I'm sure you are amazing at meeting parents," I answer Harry, "but I've — look, I trust you, I love you, but I'm not rushing this whole meeting parents thing. I can't," I explain to him.

His face — it doesn't quite drop, but the excitement fades into understanding. "Hey — yeah, Holly, that's absolutely fine. I'm easygoing, there's no timeline, and you know I'd never rush you. Don't stress, especially not on your birthday.

"Do you want this coffee?" I ask, changing the subject. "I really want some tea."

"I'll take the coffee, and I'll also go make you a tea. Just the way you like it," he adds in, blowing me a kiss as he walks out of my room, leaving me with the breakfast food.

Truthfully, I just wasn't hungry. But part of my mind, the part that never meant anything good, kept trying to force those negative thoughts I'd fought so hard to destroy back into the front of my mind.

Maybe I was hungry. Maybe my mind was subconsciously tricking me.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

Maybe not.

I didn't give the food a second glance, and instead focused on replying to some of the many messages I'd received on social media, and also from my friends and family.

I liked my birthday — it often meant people I used to be close with messaging me, giving me a day where I had time to finally respond to everyone, and catch up with those I'd accidentally lost touch with.

Being gifted presents was also a bonus.

"One tea for the birthday girl," Harry announced, walking in with a new tray, except this time it was one mug, a card and a small wrapped present.

"Is this from you?" I ask, accepting the tea with a smile.

"Certainly is. Open the present first, then the card," he tells me, and I do as I'm told.

The present is a box, and it looks like one which usually holds jewellery, which makes me slightly nervous because I don't want Harry to have spent a fortune on me.

Inside, is a beautiful necklace — although upon closer inspection I realise that it's a locket, and on the front there is an engraved 'H'.

"Before you say anything — I know it says H, but I haven't just — you know what, I'll let you open it and you'll see," he rambles, clearly nervous himself as I open up the locket.

Inside, is a tiny picture of Henry and I, from about two and a half years ago. He's licking my face, and we're surrounded by a massive pile of leaves.

"Harry," I say, nearly in tears already because of how thoughtful the present was. I'd told him on many occasions just how much I missed Henry. This was perfect.

"Do you like it?" He asks anxiously.

"I love it. And I love you. Best present you could've given me," I reassure him.

"Well — I'm kinda hoping the card outdoes it, but — go on, open it," he encourages, still stood in the same place, regularly sipping from his cup.

He sounded very nervous, which made me feel slightly suspicious, but I opened the envelope, revealing a card with a bouquet of flowers on the outside.

On the inside it read;

"Dear Holly,

Happy 28th birthday sweetheart

We're going to have the best time tonight (we will smash George and Hattie).

Another year round the sun! This is the first birthday we've celebrated together since we met, but hopefully it'll be the first of many.

Lots and lots of love,

Your boyfriend if you'll let me be,

Harry."

After reading it out, it took me a moment to process. And then I realised.

"Wait —" I start, looking back at the card, tracing the writing with my finger before looking back up at Harry.

"Are you — was that — are you asking me to be your —" I start, but he's already nodding his head.

"Oh, shit! That was a fucking awful reaction, I'm so sorry, I was more focused on the fact it said sweetheart because of how sweet it was and —"

"Holly," he interrupts gently. "Will you be my girlfriend, yes or no?"

I can feel myself turning red. If it was in front of anyone else, I'd feel embarrassed. But it's Harry. My Harry.
Which is why I say yes.