baby [h.s.]

twenty one

            "Second morning in a row you've woken up in my bed," I said to Harry, rolling over to face him. We had fallen asleep after dinner.

He groaned. "It's a comfortable bed," His voice was raspy.

I laughed.

It was only six; we had knocked out early and woken up early.

"What are we doing today?"

"I've got to have a chat with some kid they think is withholding information. I figured I'd bring you along; you have to learn somehow."

My eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"Yeah, you alright with that?"

I nodded. "What time do we have to leave?"

Harry shrugged. "They've held him all night, but whenever we want to go. They work on my clock."

I rolled my eyes with a smile. "How about you leave and shower or whatever, and I'll do the same, and by the time you're back, I'll have cooked breakfast."

"Good with me," he said, rolling over to stand. He picked his phone off the nightstand and walked towards the door. His footsteps echoed off of the walls of the hall until I heard my front door close.

With a sigh, I stood and walked to the bathroom. My towels were hanging on the rod, so I snatched them off and went to my shower.

When my shower was through, I dried my hair and walked to my closet. I didn't know what to wear, but I figured dark colors would be a safe bet. Harry wore black everyday, so I might as well have matched his style.

I grabbed a gray top off the hanger and pulled it over my head. I nearly lost my balance when I was yanking the black skinny jeans onto my legs. With a sigh of relief, I slid my feet into some black leather ankle boots and grabbed my gray wool coat as I was walking out of the closet.

Harry wasn't here yet, so I must've gotten ready quickly. The refrigerator was full of food. I picked up the back of sausages and the box of eggs. It wasn't long before I had pans full of the food sizzling over the oven. It smelled delicious.

My front door opened and I peered through the space between my countertop and overhead cabinets into the kitchen. Harry, whose hair was still wet and pulled out of his face by a headband, was walking in.

"Hey," I called. I turned back to the food, which was almost done. Once he was in the kitchen, he peeked over my shoulder. "Sausage and eggs,"

"I see." he said. "I'll get drinks."

He walked to the fridge with two glasses that he had taken from the cabinet in hand. With the other, he pulled out the bottle of orange juice.

When it was finished, I plated the food and slid one across the counter to Harry. We didn't bother with sitting at the table, instead eating as we leaned against the countertop.

"What's the situation with this kid?" I said, bringing the fork up to my mouth. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Some of the business deals drugs. This kid had a big order, thought he was slick when he, instead of paying, knocked out the guys who brought it to him and ran off with it." he said. "The guys who were bringing him the coke were dumb as hell for letting themselves get treated like that. Regardless, we suspect the kid gave it to a local dealing group he's involved in. Only seventeen years old, the boy is, so whoever runs that little show knows he's vulnerable."