sugar baby [h.s]

nine

"What are your plans for dinner?" Harry's gentle voice asks me after a moment of silence, his forehead still pressed against mine. He has to bend his head down and I have to stretch on my tippy toes to achieve this position.

"Not sure, I'll see what I have in the fridge" it's at this moment when I realise I've completely forgotten to do a good shop, I was going to do it yesterday with Heather but I got distracted. I picked up some stuff, but none of it is going to taste anything resembling a meal if I throw it all together.

Harry rubs the sides of my hips gently, I don't know why it feels so good but it just does. "You have to make sure you do eat darling, you're far too skinny" I don't know quite how to respond to that, I feel the complete opposite way about my body than he does. I always feel so frumpy and lumpy, I have squishy areas in all of the wrong places, I'm never quite happy with my body.

"Let's go check your food situation" Harry releases his hold of my hips and moves quickly out of my bedroom and strides into the kitchen. I trail behind him slowly and lean against the doorframe as he opens my fridge and stares into the nothingness.

"Where is your food love?" He asks, shutting the fridge and pulling open all of the cupboards in search of food. I've definitely done that before; looking for any morsel of food throughout my entire house because my paycheck hasn't come through yet. I watch as he places both of his hands on the countertop and looks up at me, having come up empty-handed.

"Darling you have no food. No, wait that's not completely true; you have a packet of two-minute noodles, half a lemon and a red bull. Why the hell do you have no food?" His voice is stern but he doesn't seem to be angry with me, it might be coming from a place of concern.

"I just haven't had time to shop for food yet, I do eat I promise" I try and give him a soft smile in an attempt to lighten his mood. He shakes his head, not working apparently.

"Come on, I'm going to make you dinner. But I can't use your kitchen so we're going back to mine" he doesn't take no for an answer as he strides over towards the door. I don't even have enough time to mumble an excuse, so I pick up my bag and my keys and follow after him as I lock my door.

I have to jog quickly down the stairs to catch up with Harry, who takes a hold of my hand as I appear beside him. It may also have something to do with the group of boys who have entered the stairwell as we exit. They kind of creep me out sometimes, they hang out in the stairwell, smoke and listen to loud music all the time. It never keeps me awake at night but it is a little concerning, I'm sure Harry will have some unsavoury opinion about that.

"To the hotel, John," Harry says as we both climb into the back seat. John immediately puts the car into drive and weaves his way out of the parking lot into the main stretch of road.

"What do you feel like to eat?" Harry asks me. I realise I haven't had anything proper to eat in at least a day, my eating schedule is nearly as messed up as my sleeping schedule is. I shrug my shoulders.

"Anything is fine, you cook?"

"Yes, that surprises you?" He raises his eyebrow gently and gives me a soft smirk.

"A little, you don't seem like the cooking type" I comment in response. I would have thought he would be too busy to bother learning how to cook. Maybe that's just the traditionalist in me talking; woman cooks and man works. With regards to our situation; the man seems to be doing both. While I sit and complain about being gifted clothes and jewellery because he can sometimes be unkind. What a weird dynamic we share.

"I don't have a lot of time for it so I might be a little rusty but I'm sure I can manage to scrape together something edible. Well more edible than with the food at your house"