It's You [H.S.]

3.5 | You & I

5th July 2015

Four things float at the forefront of Eloise's mind as she stirs.

It's early. Pale light streams into the bedroom through the partially open shutters. It feels like she's only had a couple of hours sleep. Jet lag is a bitch.

Liquids. The need to relieve her bladder is overshadowed only by a desperate need for water. Her mouth is parched and a sharp headache reminds her that tequila and champagne was not a wise mix.

She's oddly hot and cold at the same time. Goosebumps on her arms from the air conditioning offset by the furnace alongside her.

Harry. Spooned close; half behind her, half over her. His right arm is pulled tightly over her waist, hand cheekily cupping her breast.

Shit, that really happened.

A beaming smile breaks over her face, remembering everything from yesterday and last night. 

Even his gentle snore sounds adorable to her. God, she's got it bad.

>

Liquids, though. With a resigned sigh she realises she needs to slide out from under him.

Trying to scoot forward, she barely gains an inch from under his dead weight. She tries pushing back into him gently, but he only rolls back closer still.

When she resorts to snaking an arm up to rake her fingers gently through his dishevelled hair, she feels him start to stir, ever so slightly.

He huffs a breath through his nose. Arching up into her fingers, he flexes his own, thumbing her nipple as he squeezes his arm over her waist. "Mmmmmorning", he finally drawls.

The impossibly deep pitch of his gravelly morning voice shoots through her and straight to her groin. Fuck.

Reflexively canting her hips back against him - half hard and stirring - she then flips neatly over on to her other side, facing him.

>

"Hi!", she whispers, smiling brightly.

His lashes flutter before slowly peeking one eye open, appraisingly. Rich mossy green in the pale light, pupil contracting.

"Well, hello", he rumbles, smiling indulgently. "As mind blowing as it is to wake up to this...", he says trailing a finger over the contours of her face. "You're not a crazy morning person are you?", he chuckles, wrinkling his nose at her.

She grins with a huff, "Absolutely not! Just need... Ah!", eyeing the bottle of water on his bedside table.

She leans over him and wiggles her fingers trying to reach it.

He cranes his neck to see what she's after, then rolls on to his back, pulling her on top of him with a satisfied smirk as he cops an eyeful.

She sits up to straddle him as she untwists the cap and brings the bottle to her lips eagerly.

He trails a finger down her neck as she swallows, smirking as he goes lower and lower. She squeezes his torso with her thighs and splutters, wiping her chin with a chuckle.

"Ahhh," she sighs in satisfaction, smacking her lips. "Want some?", she gestures with the bottle.

Just opening his mouth in response, he tilts his head back on his pillow, flexing his hips up cheekily.

Planting an elbow by his shoulder, she pokes her tongue out of the corner of her mouth in concentration.

Laughing at her cuteness, he splutters himself, splashing water on to the top of his chest. She doesn't hesitate to lean down and lap it up.