Harry Styles was known to be ruthless, merciless, and tough in the ring. He basically lived at the gym, always there, training and working hard to defeat his next opponent.
After being too old to stay at the orphanage, Harry was sent packing to live...
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"Evie, baby! Where is the cinnamon?" Harry calls from her kitchen as he searches high and low in her cabinets. "Is it not on the top right of the spice rack on the counter next to the fridge?" Her soft whisper of a voice enters his ear and she comes around the corner, wearing his white button up shirt, baby blue cotton panties with white stars on them, and fluffy white socks. Cashmere, her kitten, scampers around her feet as if begging to be picked up and loved on.
"Spice rack? Oh! Tha' makes sense! And it's in alphabetical order! How convenient," Harry says, easily finding the cinnamon and adding it to the bowl of ingredients. He decided to make his delicious apple fritter doughnut waffles for Eveleigh this morning since she adores apples so much. He always ate them on his cheat days since they were so sugary sweet so he thought his sweet girl would enjoy them.
He knew it would be a rough day for her since tonight was Fight Night. He just wanted her morning to be nice since the rest of the day will go to shit since he has yet to tell her that he was fighting not one, but two fighters tonight to keep his title as champion.
That's also one of the reasons why he spent the night last night, wanting to hold her close and tight before she gets mad at him.
He learned a lot by spending one night with her and he's pretty sure he only fell in love more.
She snores. Not loud and obnoxiously, but a tiny whisper of a wheeze, that was so adorable that Harry had to stop himself from cooing and waking her up, that escapes with every breath. She somehow kept herself, even her snores, quiet and barely heard when she slept. Harry couldn't help but smile all last night as her face was buried into his neck and her mouth was right next to his ear as she emitted the adorable sounds.
She is a blanket hogger. They started the night with the blanket evenly distributed but soon, not even an hour into her sleep, she began tugging and twisting until the blanket was curled, tucked, and swaddled around her, leaving Harry's chest and legs bare with the only comfort being her small body tucked into his side. Thankfully, she had a blanket in her hall closet or he would have froze to death due to her need of the thermostat to be a chilly 65 degrees Fahrenheit (18.3 degrees Celsius) even though the fall chill was settling into the New York air.
She is a fidgeter. Harry swears that she did not stay still for more than three minutes before her body shifted to find another comfortable spot. There's no telling how many times he was jerked awake by her cold feet kicking against his shins so hard Harry swears she was a fùtbol/soccer player in a past life, her legs kneeing him right in the ribs, or her hands and arms barely missing his face as she tossed and turned, instead smacking against his head and ears. He contemplated tying her up but that would be difficult to explain in the morning and with her skittish, innocent ways, he knew she'd run for the hills. He would save his kinky ways for later. It was too soon.
