Harry ended up falling asleep in my arms on his kitchen floor soon after he had calmed down from his crying about the whole situation.
And I just sat there with him, thinking and worrying.
Sat there and stared at my reflection through his dishwasher with my head perched on his shoulder and my arms wrapped around him tightly.
I didn't want to risk loosening my grip, I wanted to stay cuddled with him for as long as I could because who knew what this morning would bring. After the revelation of the contracts, I couldn't risk letting go and taking this for granted.
I couldn't risk losing the feeling of his scent swirling around me as we melted into each other. Or the feeling of his breath fanning across the back of my shoulder as he was passed out.
I wish I could've seen his face as the peaceful sleep replaced his tears.
I had laid there with him all night as his body had shut down from exhaustion that his busy day created.
His emotions had drained him and so did the alcohol, he had circles under his eyes and he hadn't even undressed out of his suit.
As we laid there throughout the night, I unbuttoned his shirt a little bit to help him get as comfortable as he could by loosening the fabric and giving him some ventilation.
I knew the gin flowing through him was making him hot and uncomfortable, alcohol always does that.
The sun was shining through his windows in the living room, lighting up his whole first floor. Luckily, Harry's face was turned away from the windows as it laid on my shoulder, that way the bright rays wouldn't peek through and wake him up from the brightness.
I know it's early in the morning, I basically watched the sun rise through his windows. I also watched the moon lower and the sky enlighten with tiny stars throughout the night because I never let my eyes drift to sleep - I was too worried and the last thing we both needed was for another panic attack to happen.
Sleep wasn't an option.
The clock on Harry's microwave said it was 7:47 in the morning. Sunny was high in the sky, also letting me know our day was just getting started.
Harry's chest was slowly expanding and deflating as it was pressed up against my own. His hands were tucked up and under my hoodie, one of them sprawled across my back and the other slightly tucked into the back of my pants.
His hands found home on my back by themselves, he had pushed them under the fabric that covered my back as he had slept. Harry needed to know I was there, he needed to feel me for reassurance.
Almost like my fucking body weight on top of him wasn't enough.
My plan to not let the sun awaken my sleeping boyfriend underneath me didn't go as planned. He started to stir and move his legs a little as light groans rumbled in his chest.
"Morning, bug." I whispered to him as his arms tightened around me and his face nuzzled into my neck, indicating that he was awake.
"Hey, baby." Harry's gravelly morning voice echoed off the side of my neck throughout his kitchen.
"How are you feeling?" I ask him as I pull away slightly to ruffle my hands through his hair, smoothing out the knots and random fly-away's.
"My head hurts like a bitch, my usual hangover." Harry mumbles, picking his head up and meeting me with a warm half smile.
His eyes were dark and full of regret. I know he regrets drinking last night, I can see it swimming around his eyes- along with the hazy morning look.
"Do you want medicine? I have a lot of practice helping with hangovers. I know how to help, all you gotta do is lay down and I got it all handled."
"Willow, I'm so sorry." Harry closes his eyes and bangs his head back onto the cabinet behind him.
"For what? I'm okay."
Harry slowly opens his eyes and brings both of his hands to hold my face, "For everything. You should've never found me like that, but I should've never even touched my alcohol in the first place. I did enough stupid shit yesterday sober, I didn't need to be intoxicated to try and fix my mistakes-"
I cut Harry off by pulling both of his hands away from my face, trapping both of his in between my little ones, "Woah now. I know you're not apologizing to me as soon as you wake up. For God's sake, we're still on your kitchen floor. Let's wake up a bit and then we can talk about everything... if you still want to of course."
"Hard to wake up this early and not be grumpy." Harry grumbles and turns his eyes up to the ceiling, squinting his swollen eyelids due to the intruding light.
I lean forward and slowly kiss his neck, sucking ever so lightly onto the sweet spot underneath his ear. "I can make you not grumpy, baby." I whisper into his ear.
"Mmm," Harry drags his hands down to my ass and massages the fabric covered flesh there, "And how would you do that?"
"Any way you want, Britain." I respond before going back to kiss his neck and drag my hands down his arm, moving my hands farther back to hold his own that were still over my ass.
I've been so quick to jump his bones lately, not caring about anything else but getting lost in him.
It's the love talking.
My lips pucker against his protruding jaw line as I make my way across his sweet skin, kissing and lightly biting anywhere I can.
All I can feel is Harry's hands dragging up my back and through my hair, quiet hums escaping his throat every time my teeth come out to knick his skin.
It's so easy to get consumed by Harry.
Everything he does is so effortlessly beautiful and breathtaking, truly he is one of the best pieces of art I had ever laid eyes on. I get so consumed by him that he makes me want to whisper those three little words into his ear and then solidify them with my actions.
I want to shower him in all the love and make sure he feels it in every part of his body; I want it flowing through his blood, I want it to send shivers up his spine and flood his thoughts.
I want him to always and forever feel the love that I have for him.
The words are on the tip of my tongue as it dips out from my mouth and soothes over the spot on Harry's neck that I had just bitten, but his hands had a different idea.
Harry drags his fingers into my hair and fists it at the back of my head, pulling my head out from the crook of his neck and bringing my lips to his for a quick peck, "Let's just focus on us today." He whispers against my lips.
"But-" I go to protest and tell him that this is focusing on us, but he brings his finger up in front of my lips to shush me.
"Not right now, darling. Jus' let me appreciate you before we have to talk about everything." Harry mumbles before patting my ass to tell me to get up.
That fucker does that a lot - tapping my butt with his hands to silently tell me to move. Or whenever I'm in his way and he doesn't feel like saying excuse me and he grabs my hips to grind against my ass when he's 'just trying to squeeze past me.'
He's annoying.
"Okay," I cave in, "Can we at least go to the couch? My back hurts."
"You didn't have to lay with me all night, ya know? You could've left me there and slept in my bed." Harry says as he brushes his hands down his wrinkly pants and shirt.
"Never. I was comfortable laying with you, always am." I grab his hand after I'm on my feet and drag him over to his living room, but quickly regretting it.
The trashcan and washcloth were in the exact places where I had left them, along with a messy couch and the blanket Harry had thrown onto the floor.
"When did this get out here?" Harry asks as he pushes the trashcan over with his foot to make room for the both of us.
"I brought them out here before you walked away last night."
Harry falls down onto his couch, his hair flopping over his forehead with the bounce as he unwinds our hands to unbutton his shirt. "Fuckin' hell. I don't remember that. Please don't tell me I was that much of an asshole."
With the sun shining and his muscles tightening against the fabric of the shirt, I could practically feel my throat closing up as my mouth hung open.
I watch as his hair hangs slightly over his eyes, the caramels really pushing through due to the warm toned sun.
His tattoos that littered his chest and arms looked dark against his skin now that it wasn't as tan from the summer, the black ink having a greater contrast against his paler skin.
He rolls the sleeves up to his elbows and the front is completely unbuttoned, his dress pants fitting around his hips below the ferns, just right to accentuate his waist.
"Artist?"
Harry's nickname pulls me out of my admiration, making me shake my head and sit down next to him, but only to be pulled sideways into his lap.
My legs are swung over his own and his arms are wrapped around his waist as he peppers my neck with kisses.
"Want to take a picture? It'll last longer." Harry says cockily into the crook of my neck.
"Shut up." I smack his chest and giggle at his teasing.
This. Us. This is what I love.
We fell into a silence after our fit of light laughter- my head fell to his shoulder as he laid his on top of mine. Any way that we lay, we always fit together like a puzzle.
"I'm sorry."
"H, stop apologizing. It's over with, you're all good." I shut down his apology again.
I hate when he feels guilty for his emotions. Sometimes emotions are consuming and you can't control what you do, he doesn't understand that I get that.
"No. I'm sorry for putting us in a situation where I could lose you," Harry lifts his head off of mine and pushes his finger under my chin, making me look at him, "I can't lose you."
I shake my head and grab his wrist, "You won't."
"But-"
"No but's. We'll be alright, I promise. We'll get it figured out and it'll be fine. You should just be proud of yourself for signing with the label because I," I lean forward and kiss his cheek, "am so fucking proud of you, bug."
His cheeks flush and his dimples pop, "Are you sure?"
"Very," I say, meeting him with a warm smile and my own dimple popping, "I wouldn't trade you for the world."
"You are my world." Harry was quick with his response, not hesitating one second, "That's why we'll figure it out. You're my pretty little Artist, you know how to fix things, even when they're my stupid mistakes."
But do I?
Oh, Harry... How I wish I knew how to fix your mistake.
I lay my head down onto his shoulder and curl further into Harry. His apartment was quiet, no noise being heard from the streets this far up and no music was playing.
His atmosphere was so different compared to mine, the amount of comfortable silence he has flowing through his home is insane.
Comfortable silence is so overrated.
"We'll fix this mistake." I clarify as I squeeze Harry's hand.
Harry brings our hands up to his mouth and kisses the back of mine before throwing his head back to lean against the edge of the couch, "We'll have to make a plan and stay secret again until we figure out a way where I get to keep you and my job."
"Don't worry, Britain. Us against the world right now, we got this... but before we plan anything, can we please eat breakfast?"
Harry chuckles under his breath and disconnects our hands to wrap me up in his arms, pulling me to his chest in a secured bear hug.
I yelp into his neck as my body is pulled onto his, latching onto him as tight as possible since he unexpectedly stands up.
His arms wrap around my waist as he bounces his way back into the kitchen for the second time this morning.
Harry sits me down on the counter right in front of the fridge and pecks my lips before turning around, his face getting lit up by the fridge light.
My legs prickle up into goosebumps from the cold marble against my thighs that had replaced Harry's hands.
Whenever I'm near Harry my whole body heats, but whenever he leaves I turn cold.
I don't want to go frigid.
"Do you have plans today?" Harry mindlessly asks as he picks up some eggs and starts examining them.
"I do have to go do some... things." I quickly avoid the whole puppy situation, briefly sliding past it in hopes Harry doesn't press too much on it.
I don't want to tell him yet, I want to surprise him whenever he walks into the flat and is attacked by my fluff ball on feet.
"Like what?" Harry questions with his back to me as he raids his fridge.
"Some errands. Doctor's appointment."
It's not a full lie. I'm going to the doctor's... the animal doctor.
"So does that mean we can't spend all day together?"
"Sadly." I frown and hope off the counter to walk up behind Harry and wrap my arms around him from behind.
I stand on my tippy toes and rest my chin on his shoulder to also look into the fridge.
"Ouh, let's make omelets!" I weasel my hand underneath Harry's arms and grab the carton of eggs.
I plan on eating breakfast with Harry and then quickly leaving because the little guy's appointment is around noon.
I hate to leave so early after everything last night, but I have to go. I have to make sure this puppy doesn't have a home and that he's okay.
"Are you making them?" Harry turns around as he shuts the fridge, watching me bend down to check all his cabinets for a pan or a spatula.
"Hell no! Have you had my cooking? This is all you, Mr. Britain." I shove the eggs and pan into his arms and hurry to hop back onto the counter top again.
"I have... you're lucky you have a boyfriend as talented as me. Really, Artist, I could go on-"
I interrupt Harry in a fit of laughter as I throw my head back, "Yeah, I bet you can, you narcissist. Now cook our damn omelets."
Harry turns around with a huff and quickly gets everything ready, mixing up the ingredients and frying them together in no time. He added some peppers and other little ingredients into our eggs to spice them up.
I could never.
The sizzling and the smell of the breakfast cooking filled the apartment as I hopped off the counter and went straight to his sound system and connected my phone.
Immediately the sound of Don't Stop Making It Happen by Grouplove floods the speakers and floods Harry's apartment. The sound of him cooking is drowned out, and the only thing I can focus on is the song.
Instantly, the mood of this morning flips and before I knew it I'm mindlessly dancing around Harry's living room, my hair swaying from side to side as I jumped up and down, singing the song as loud as I could.
We already got a noise complaint once, who gives a fuck now?
"Something 'bout that love we made
Put it in a payphone
Called you up, just had to say that
You don't know, you don't know"
I sing the lyrics and spin around quickly, only to be met with the eyes of Harry leaning against his kitchen table with two plates in his hands, steaming rising off of the food.
"Oh," my cheeks heat up from being caught as I pause the music and take deep breaths trying to catch my breath, "Is breakfast done?"
Harry chuckles and nods his head, placing down both of our plates on the table, "Yes, pretty girl. All for you, my infamous omelet."
I rush over to the table, hearing my stomach growl at just the simple indication of food letting it be known that I was starving. I sit in a chair and immediately start cutting up the egg.
One bite in and I'm practically moaning with my eyes shut, "You weren't kidding. I need you to make me these every morning for the rest of my life."
I open my eyes and see Harry gleaming over at me while cutting his own, "If it makes you look at me like that every morning, then so be it."
"What do you mean, 'look at you like that'? How am I looking at you?" I'm genuinely confused about what he's talking about, I'm not looking at him any different than how I usually do.
"No particular way, Artist." Harry smirks, "Now finish your omelet. I can't let you go to the doctor's hungry, what would they think of me?"
I shrug off his words and keep munching at the giant egg Harry had made me. I am truly lucky that I found someone who was good at cooking, because we all fucking know it would never be me.
"Artist, you do know this means we can't, like, announce to the band yet right?" Harry asks through his bite of omelet.
I nod my head and swallow my food, "I know, but think about it... keeping us a secret is different this time."
"Different this time?"
"Mhm, different. My family knows, the whole world doesn't. Plus," I take the last bite of my egg, "This time around you're my actual boyfriend."
Harry's eyebrows furrow and he places his fork down on his empty plate, "Your family knows? I thought-"
"The stooges are my family. No one else matters." I interrupt him to answer his confusion. He doesn't know what it's like to only have your best friends.
His family is still in his life, his sister is still here. I'm not blaming him for anything, I just understand that it's different.
We have totally different perspectives on the term family.
Sunny claims the clouds, birds and rays as her family.... but Mr. Moon claims the stars and comets.
Totally different things, but they both carry the same meaning of family.
"I'm glad you have the stooges. You deserve nothing less than them." Harry says as he gets up from the table, snatching both of our empty plates off the table and tossing them into the sink and making them clatter against the metal.
"I have you too. It's like I hit the replacement family jackpot."
Harry walks over to me and wraps me in his arms, both of them going around the tops of my shoulders, "God, Artist. Don't say it like that, you make it sound so sad."
I laugh and kiss his heart through his open shirt, "Don't worry, Bug. I'm not upset about it one bit. If anything, I'm thankful for it."
I feel Harry's lips peck the top of my hairline before he gives me one last squeeze and reluctantly let's me go from the tight hug he had withheld me in.
If only he could hold me forever.
I'll never get tired of his hold on me- figuratively and literally. He has this death grip on my heart, but it's the slow type of death. The sweet, slow death of love. Not the painful type.
"When's your appointment?" Harry asks as he rubs up and down my arms through my hoodie, sending warm shocks through my whole body.
"Umm, around noon if I remember correctly."
"You better get goin', babe." Harry pulls me forward with his grip on my biceps and doesn't give me any time before latching his lips to mine, aggressively kissing me.
The kiss makes my head spin and all the air escapes my lungs to only breathe in him. Him. Him. Him.
Only ever him.
"Tryna get rid of me that quickly?" I whisper against his lips, kissing them one last time before I pull away to smile up at him.
His eyes were a little more bright, but still held the same puffiness they had from this morning. His skin was gaining color back and I could tell my Harry was creeping through the cracks from the train wreck of events last night.
"Always!" Harry laughs as he squeezes my cheeks in his hands, making my lips pucker.
I push his chest and hands away, laughing in his face, "Fuck you, Britain."
"You'd like that, right?" He bites back, flicking the underneath of his nose with his pointer finger and a smirk plastered on his pink lips.
"God, I hate you." I roll my eyes and walk over to the front door to put on my shoes.
Harry follows me over and opens up the door for me, "Yeah, you definitely do."
"Mhm." I push myself up on my tip-toes to kiss his cheek, "Maybe we can have dinner later? Depending on how my appointment goes?"
"Of course, I'll come over with something so we don't have to order out."
"Sounds great. Bye Mr. Britain, I'll text you." I blew him a kiss as I walked out his door.
He catches the kiss and pretends to shove it deep into his pocket with a wink, "You better."
***
I've been at the vet for almost two full hours now.
Test after test, all the needles, keeping the puppy calm. It's been chaotic and I just know my little guy is so scared.
The drive over here was chaotic enough. Needless to say, little guy does NOT like car rides. WIth all his whimpering and whining, you would think I was torturing him, not having him sit in the front seat of my car swaddled in a fuzzy blanket.
He's a bit over dramatic if I do say so myself.
After we finally made it into the clinic, the puppy had stopped rustling around and nuzzled into my lap- that is until the vet came in and took us into a room in the back and then the chaos was back.
The vet and my puppy are not a good mix and it was very much noted in my brain. During all the tests he was shaking and whimpering, not liking how the doctor was probing him with different things and putting all these types of wires near him.
I'm just relieved that the veterinarian took him back for his final scan about thirty minutes ago.
I've been in our little room, anxiety flowing through my body. My legs tapping, the counting of my fingers, humming lightly.
I just want him to be fully healthy.
The sound of the door clicking open makes my head shoot towards the heavy wooden door as I watch it open and the tiny pup pushes his way through the crack and scurries over to me.
"Hi little guy!" I bend down and encase him in my arms, bringing his wiggling body up to my lap.
"Tests for a microchip have come back," The vet walks into the little room we were in and places a bunch of papers on the desk in front of me on the way over to her seat, "Fortunately, the little guy over here doesn't have any sign of another owner."
"Hear that bud, you get to come home with me!" I whisper to the excited puppy in my lap as he wags his tail.
"But, through those tests, we have found other... issues."
My head snaps up and I instantly am instilled with fear, "Issues?"
"We had to run some MRI's and we found that his breathing had faltered. This poor guy has something called laryngeal paralysis, which is a disease where he cannot bark or breathe properly."
Now that I think about it, I haven't heard him bark since I found him. He only whimpered or made those cute little snorts when he got excited.
I just had assumed that he was a quieter dog, not that he had some underlying health conditions that could hurt him.
"How severe is it?" Worry fills my voice as I cradle the puppy in my arms with his belly to the sky and his head thrown back to see the veterinarian office upside down due to his head hanging the way it is.
"The paralysis won't take a huge toll on his life, it isn't life threatening because we found it so quickly and it's not horrible. The surgery would ensure that it won't spread throughout his vocal cords, but he wouldn't be able to bark or make any louder noises than those whimpers because of the damage already done." The vet nicely explained.
"Okay, and this isn't life threatening... correct?"
Please say correct.
Please say correct.
Please-
"Correct. He's just going to take a longer time recovery due to how young he is. Usually, we don't find laryngeal paralysis until they're old and when their immune systems are fully developed, but it's safer to get rid of it sooner than later. The expected recovery time is about a week or two, but with this fella' it should be about two to three. Only an extra week added on, nothing too serious."
I could feel the weight lift off of my chest hearing those words. I would never want something to harm my dog or cause him pain.
My dog.
Holy fuck, I have a dog now.
"Thank God. And how much is the surgery? Or when would we need to do it?" I take a breath between all of my questions, "I'm sorry if I'm rambling, this just feels like a lot of unknown information."
The nice lady laughs and starts flicking through a filing cabinet full of yellow folders all labelled different things, "No worries, darling. It's totally expected for owner's to act like this, I understand. The surgery would be some time within this month, if we wait longer it may spread and be harder to remove."
She pauses her explanation and whips out a folder full of papers. She shuffles through them quickly and pulls out a tiny packet of three papers stapled together.
"Here," She pushes it closer to my end of the table, "This is all the information and paperwork to get him ready for the surgery. Just call us back and schedule it once you read through everything and sign all the needed documents."
I take the paper away from her and read the top of the paper.
"LARYNGEAL PARALYSIS SURGERY:
IMPORTANT INFORMATION AND DETAILS"
"Thank you so much! I'm so thankful you found it before it got worse, poor guy has been through the ringer since I found him." I chuckle and pet my puppy who had fallen asleep in my lap while I was talking.
"I know, he's lucky you found him and he seems to be in good hands now. All you have to do is go to the front desk and register him in for your ownership. He's up to date with all his shots and medical needs, well besides the surgery of course, so he's good as new to go home with you."
The lady walks over to her office door and opens it for me, seeing my hands were full with my dog, the blanket, and the newly awarded packet for his surgery.
I nod at her on my way out and make my way over to the front desk, just like the vet had said.
"Hi, how may I help you?" The man asks, looking over my cluttered hands.
I place the paper down and throw the blanket over my shoulder, all while adjusting the puppy to where I could comfortably hold him in one arm.
"We just finished his check up and I need papers to identify ownership? At least that's what I think they're called."
"Ahh, you need registry papers and your bill. Eventful day, yeah?" He laughs as he swivels around on his desk chair, his scrubs scratching against each other as he moves.
"Very." I laugh with him.
"Can I have your name?" He asks after grabbing a registry paper and pen, pushing them towards me on the desk.
"Willow Davis." I respond before scribbling down all the necessary information for the puppy.
Name of owner: Willow Davis.
Type of animal: Dog, mutt.
Age of animal: 5 months.
Name of dog: ...
Holy shit. I get to name him.
"Give me a good dog name."
"What?" The man working the desk confusingly questions me, clearly taken aback by my suddenness, "You came here with a dog who's unnamed?"
"I did, yes," I nod my head and push the puppy up my shoulders again, "Any ideas?"
"Well..." He taps his lips with the pen in his hand, raising his eyebrows and pretending to be deep in thought, "What do you like to do."
"Easy. I like to paint."
"Okay," He points his pen at me, "Name him your favorite artist."
Picasso.
"Picasso?"
"Picasso is a lovely name. Fits him and you."
I smile at his kind words and quickly finish filling out the paperwork, handing it back over to the front desk worker after I had paid the outrageous bill for Picasso's check-up.
Once I hopped into the car, settling Picasso into the front seat and trying my best to keep him sleeping with the warm blanket wrapped around him, I started to flick through the packet the vet had handed me about his surgery.
The pages were filled with details such as medication, recovery time, the process in which they had to do... and the price.
Good lord, the price was astronomical on this surgery. No wonder veterinarians are well-off and work as hard as they do, they make bank.
Now why couldn't I pick a profession with money?
Why become a fucking artist in New York?
Because, Willow, you love what you do and you're very good at it... now stop complaining and move on.
$5,000 for his procedure alone, not including his medication. The mediation won't be as expensive, but it'll still hurt my bank account.
With the way art shows and teaching have been going lately, I won't ever have this much money if I want to be able to eat on top of buying new supplies for said art shows.
Right now, I'm stuck in a money loop- buying new supplies is going to cause me to go broke, but if I don't buy new supplies I can't attend art shows empty handed. And now, I added a dog inot the mix and I have to provide for him too.
Not complaining, I love him.
All I'm saying is, I don't have that much. I can't afford to put him through surgery, but I need it done, he needs it done. The vet said it's best to get the surgery done early, so this is a great opportunity that I can't pass up.
Even if I am broke right now.
The stooges have made funds for each other in the past to help each other with things that we needed. We had set up this giant mason jar in the boys' office in For the Record and threw ANYTHING we had in there.
Pennies. Bills. Sometimes a tiny check. I'm pretty sure Mi would throw paper clips in there too.
No matter what, I know the stooges have my back... and my little guy too.
I'll make it work, we'll be alright.
***
author's note:
lol hey, long time no see.
I know, I've been M.I.A., but it's been... rough. I'm working two jobs and started school again. Writer's block hit me like a train, but I promise I've been trying.
Don't worry, I didn't abandon my Artist... I could never.
Oh, and happy HSLOT!!!!
Love you the mostest. Stay safe and live life.