Harry wakes up to the buzzing of his phone and groans as he stretches to grab it only to get blinded by the notification of a new text message. “Help!" It reads, sent from Niall’s phone, but Harry doesn’t understand the context or anything of the sort until a second message comes in. "Im in ur kitchen, help me!"
Harry may or may not jump out of his bed at that, whipping out his hand for his pajama pants. He tugs them on but nearly trips down the stairs, smashing his head open on the railing before he catches his footing again. Harry doesn’t bother straightening himself out before he goes straight for the kitchen doorway but he stops on the threshold in complete shock.
"Um," Harry starts, resting his hand on the door frame just so that, if he falls, he’ll have something to hold onto. His kitchen is a mess, there’s no getting past that bare fact. There’s flour everywhere and, by everywhere, he means everywhere. There’s even some in the hanging pots above the island somehow and Harry doesn’t really understand that happened but he doesn’t really want to question it.
Aside from the flower, there’s a batch of dough overflowing one of his larger pots and that is what Niall is feverishly trying to pack back in. “Ah, okay, good!” Niall says as he looks up from his hands and he points at Harry before gesturing down at the pot. “You, fix this.”
"What are you doing here? What’s going on?" Harry stammers, moving forward as he tried to assess the situation.
"I wanted to make you breakfast but I think I added too much yeast and then it started rising too fast and I have no idea how to fix this. Help me!” Niall blurts everything out in one long breath and Harry can’t help but toss his head back in a laugh, clutching at his stomach weakly. “Harry!” Niall groans, grabbing a handful of flour to pitch at him once he proves completely unhelpful.
