ar·ti·fice
[noun]
clever or cunning devices or expedients, especially as used to trick or deceive others.
{Cece Hart has been living two lives. One part is with her friends and her relationship with Harry and the other part is her work. She has alwa...
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I had woken the next morning still in Harry's arms. I yawned softly as I saw the sunlight beaming through his curtains. I was still horrified that I allowed myself to come here while in my current state. It was a lack of judgment on my part.
I tried my best to get out of his arms as I hoped I wouldn't wake him up. It appeared liked it worked because once I got off the bed he turned on his belly, his arms covering his face. A smile grew on my face as I noticed how adorable he looked in his current state.
As I moved my way into his kitchen, I sensed something brushing up against my left. I jumped at the feeling but soon calmed down when I noticed it was Harry's cat, Luna.
I had come across the cat a few times when I was over at the house. But she always kept to herself or just snuggling up to Harry. I bent down a little as I patted her on the head. She meowed as I went over to Harry's fridge.
As I looked through his fridge to figure out what to make for breakfast, Luna wouldn't stop meowing. She meowed so much I had to close the fridge and look at her to make sure she was okay.
"Now what is all this?" I asked as I followed her over to her bowls. She placed her paw on her empty food bowl and I rolled my eyes as I knew right away what she wanted.
"Oh, so you're hungry." I noticed her dry food was next to bowls. Once I filled her bowl, she started to munch on it. "Let's hope you didn't wake up Harry." I whispered under my breath as I went back to the fridge.
There was not much in his fridge. I would have to remind him to go food shopping later. Nonetheless, I noticed he had eggs and fruit. I grabbed both of them and placed them on the kitchen counter. "Guess we are going with french toast." I murmured to myself as I grabbed the bread that was laying on the counter.
Making the french toast was easy enough. His kitchen was always clean and tidy. I looked up from flipping the french toast when I saw him walking into the kitchen. I noticed he had changed during the night and was wearing a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt.
"Good morning, Love." He mumbled under his breath still trying to wake up. I smiled as he kissed me on the lips.
"Good morning, how did you sleep?" I asked as I turned back to finish cooking the french toast.
"Well, not much, my girlfriend was frantic at my door last night, covered in blood." He said. I didn't even have to look up to know he was frustrated.
I cleared my throat as I turned the stove off. I walked over to grab plates for our food. As I served the french toast I tried to not look up at him. I knew I wouldn't be able to handle the disappointment that was most likely spread across his face. I hoped secretly he wouldn't press me on the issue. "Oh. Sorry about that."
"Unfuckingbelivable." I heard him say, his voice growing louder as he smacked his hand on the counter. "That's all can say to me?!" He scoffed.
"Harry..."I turned my head sharply at him. Trying to calm him down.
