Cliché || H.S.

Chapter 42

When I walk back into the house, bagels and black coffee in tow, the space is still dead silent. Once I start pulling food out of the plastic bag I hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. I softly smile to myself, knowing the sound of food is probably what coaxed him out of bed finally. Harry walks into the kitchen a moment later, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, no shirt, and his hair a wreck. Instead of coming towards me or the food, he throws himself across the couch in the connected living room, groaning loudly.

"Good morning sunshine!" I say way too enthusiastically, more because I know it'll annoy him. He groans again, picking up a pillow and placing it over his head. I snicker while I grab his coffee and bring it over to where he lays. He accepts it gratefully, finally sitting up.

"I can't believe I drank that much," Harry mutters, taking a long swig from his to-go cup, "I remember dancing to ABBA and the next thing I know I'm in bed with you fast asleep beside me. I haven't had a night like that in a long time... I don't think my old man body is built for this anymore."

I wonder if that means he doesn't remember us sitting on the bathroom floor, him telling me about the future he sees for us. I bring the food over to the living room and sit on the opposite end of the couch, hoping I can find out. To be honest I'm not sure if I want him to remember or not. While I'm touched that he's so optimistic about us, it still scares me to put so much hope and faith into something that could possibly not work out.

"Do you really not remember anything else in between?" I test.

"Not really, no." Harry shoves a large bite into his mouth, and after a second of chewing he looks up at me, eyes wide, "Why? I didn't say anything rude to you, did I? Sometimes I can get a little sarcastic and people take it the wrong way, but I didn't mean it."

I chuckle at the fearful look, finding it endearing that he's that worried he could have said something to upset me. "No, you were great. I was just wondering. I'm glad you had fun though... You did have fun, right?"

Harry nods his head, flushing his food down with another sip of coffee, "Oh yeah. I haven't been able to let go like that in a long while. It felt good... Thank you. It really means a lot that you would do all of that for me."

I'm not sure why, but him saying thanks makes me blush every time. I guess I didn't really expect acknowledgment for it, I just did it because I wanted to. I nod my head shyly, going back to my breakfast. I can feel Harry's eyes on me, but I choose to ignore it, feeling like his gaze is crushing me. Even after all this time I find him intimidating on occasion.

"Well, Lily Jean," He clears his throat, "Clear your schedule because I am way too hungover to do anything today, which means you're stuck here with me."

Harry doesn't have a TV in his room and because he insisted that he wanted to be in bed, we ended up dragging one of the guest bed mattresses into the large living room. Harry closed all of the blinds, making the house as dark as it could be while we curled under the covers, flipping through movie options.

Neither of us are much in the mood to watch something that requires a lot of attention or emotional investment, so we settle on a Disney marathon, watching movies from our childhood. As the intro to Princess and the Frog begins, I cuddle closer to Harry and let my eyes close, hit with a sudden wave of exhaustion. The past week was tiring between work and party planning, so it feels heavenly to just have a day of nothing.

I don't remember falling asleep, but when I open my eyes a different movie is playing and Harry is talking quietly on the phone. I can feel his words vibrating through his chest underneath my ear while he runs his fingers through the ends of my hair absentmindedly. When he notices that I'm awake he tells whoever it is that he needs to go and hangs up.