At first when I woke up, I thought it was still night time because of how dark the room looked. Turns out they're just expensive, heavy duty curtains.

I turned over, expecting to see Harry, but was surprised when I found myself alone.

Where did he go?

I'm still on edge about last night when his phone kept ringing. He sounded so relieved when I told him I hadn't seen who called, but I lied. The name Miranda flashed on the screen and I had seen it.

After he so quickly took the phone from my hands, I thought it better that I didn't mention seeing the name appear. If he'd known I saw it, he might get angry that I was invading his privacy. But then again, he shouldn't be angry if it wasn't something I either wasn't supposed to know about or he didn't want me to know about.

That question as to what her connection to Harry is keeps running through my mind. My hopes are that she's a sister, aunt, cousin, or some kind of relative.

Even if she was an ex-girlfriend that wouldn't leave him alone, it'd be more comforting to know that than to have to wonder about all the possibilities and just hope for the best.

Of course the thought of him seeing someone else has crossed my mind, but I try to just push it away.

He told me he loved me and I believed him. If he really felt that way, he wouldn't be cheating on me, right?

Oh who knows! I don't understand hardly anything about the male species already. This is just so frustrating.

In an attempt to curve my wandering mind, I picked up Harry's shirt and put it on. I walked out of the room and down the hall, to the staircase and down the steps until I reached the kitchen. Something smelled delicious, considering my grumbling stomach, as I entered onto the hardwood flooring.

Harry stood at the stove with a skillet in front of him. I decided not to disturb him as I went to the island in the middle of the kitchen and sat on the barstool.

My eyes watched intently as the muscles in his back contracted whilst he cooked.

"Morning sleeping beauty," Harry chirped without even turning to look at me.

And I thought I had been quiet?

"Morning cheesy boyfriend," I joked.

"Okay, fine. I guess I won't be nice," he replied acting hurt.

"No, I was kidding. It was cute."

Harry picked up a plate with a few pancakes on it and walked over to the island where I sat. He placed the plate down in front of me. My nose took in the mouth-watering smell of the warm aroma.

"You better be," he playfully threatened in a whisper against my ear.

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