My Brother's Boyfriend ✓

Twenty-Six

Sharing my bed with Harry stills feels so foreign to me, but it's not something I would like to stop doing. I happen to rather enjoy waking up in his arms. I like how, when he's half asleep, he'll wrap his arm tighter around my waist and pull my body against his. I like how, when he's sleeping, he'll feel around for me on the bed if I'm too far away and pull me closer to him, just so he can snuggle into me.

I like how he'll mumble in his sleep, saying some of the most random things. I like how, when I respond to him, we can have a conversation that makes absolutely no sense to anyone, including me, but they just so happen to be some of my favorite we have.

I didn't sleep much at all last night, but not because I was paying more attention to the sleeping boy beside me,than I was to trying to sleep, but because I couldn't sleep. I would watch Harry's breathing, seeing how his chest would rise and fall gently, as if a small kitten were sleeping on him and would wake if he inhaled too quickly. Even in his sleep he's gentle.

I would see his eyes fluttering with his dreams, and how his arms would twitch a little bit. I would hear his voice, saying words that have no business being strung together, and smile at it. At him.

I would gently run my fingers down his face, just admiring the beautiful boy sleeping below me. I dozed off a few times, but not nearly enough to be considered a full night's rest.

When the alarm goes off at eight in the morning (our first class is at nine) I didn't move. I shut the alarm off and continued to watch the lovely boy in my bed.

"Staring is rude, my love," he mumbles, his voice deep and heavy with sleep as his accent is significantly thicker than usual.

"S-sorry" I whisper and my face heats up a bit, knowing he's caught me.

How could he tell?

He cracks a smile and lazily moves to press a kiss to my nose, but since his eyes are closed, he misses and gets my eyelid instead.

"You missed," I point out, whispering, and he chuckles a bit.

"Oh well, you get the point," he says and moves a bit more, starting to wake up some.

I climb down from my bed and start getting dressed. I go over to my closet and grab some jeans and a shirt, and set them on the railing of my bed before pulling my sweatpants off. I wince slightly at the pulling in my side as I take the jeans on first, then the shirt, and reaching for the clean one when I hear a sharp intake of air.

My head snaps up to where Harry is hanging off the edge of my bed, watching me get dressed. I don't know what's worse, the fact that he was watching me, or the fact that he's looking at my side.

"That's so much worse than it was before," he says sadly, his eyes falling.

"I know," I whisper sadly, not knowing what else there is to say to lighten this incredibly dampened mood.

"Does it hurt?" He asks, his voice laced with concern. I suddenly get an idea to try and lighten the mood.

"O-Only always," I try to joke but he frowns, "I-I'm sorry," I apologize, realizing that my joke, which was intended to lighten this sad mood, actually dampened it even more.

"No, it's not your fault," he says as he furrows his brows at me, "Did you get any sleep last night?" He asks as he takes a closer look at my face. I must look pretty awful, what with the bruises and the bags I can feel under my eyes from not sleeping much at all.

"Um...a-a little," I admit, looking sheepishly at the ground, the shirt still in my hands. I haven't put it on yet and I pull at the fabric slightly, beginning to grow shy again.