Disclaimer: This story will not contain any smut, drugs, violence, or graphic scenes of any kind. However, there is some language because I feel like it goes along with Harry's character. That being said, I will not use the F word. I personally don't like it, so I don't use it.
Happy reading!
"I thought you would be happy about it. You're always complaining about how I'm too uptight." I said, taking the wine from his hands.
He straightened his beanie. "I didn't think that you would've gone mouth to mouth with him." His nose wrinkled as he stared down at me, his emerald eyes brooding.
I took another sip and smirked. "Why, you jealous?" I asked, mentally applauding myself for using one of his favorite comebacks against him. I'm telling you, me and wine make a great team.
He deadpanned. "Sweetheart, I kiss better sober than he ever could drunk."
Hmm, have to test that out one day.
...wait WHAT???
I glared at the wine. Whose side are you on anyway? Where the hell did that thought even come from? We were supposed to be a team!
And now I'm talking to a bottle of wine.
Maybe I'm the one that needs a psychiatrist.
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