-Eulalia-
Laying in Harry's guest bedroom, the sun rising through the white curtains, I haven't slept a single hour in this room. The creaks and cracks come every so often. My body shifts and turns in the soft blankets, and my mind hasn't been able to relax and focus on trying to sleep.
It isn't helpful that I'm somewhere that I'm not comfortable or used to. Also, I sleep with headphones as the music plays in the background. And my stomach has been growling for food till the point where I am pulling the covers off my legs and walking to exit out of the bedroom door.
As I slowly open it, the living room comes into view, the stairs in the corner on the left, the kitchen on the right, right below where Harry sleeps. When I make my way to the kitchen, the tile below my feet is cold.
The coldness of the fridge handle sparks my skin when goosebumps slowly rise to my right arm. The fridge light glows up the kitchen and my eyes search the mediocre-filled fridge, quite surprised at my options for breakfast.
Pulling out the carton of eggs and a water bottle, I turn around. My eyes reach to the cabinets, and I'm searching for a pan when I find pancake mix and a waffle maker. My intrusive thoughts get the best of me and I'm taking both items out and setting them on the counter. Still wanting to cook my eggs, I search for the pan, it's in the last cabinet.
Once I have put my ingredients together I plug in the waffle maker and slowly pour the batter on the warm shape, closing it shut to let it bake. I crack three eggs, the sizzle making me punch myself mentally cause I could accidentally wake Harry up, and for God's sake, he'll be in a mood. I grab a wooden spoon and push the yoke around the pan. Lightly seasoning my eggs with salt and pepper.
I turn my attention back to the waffle, lifting the handle to see its finish. I take it out, setting it on a plate. I pour some more batter on, closing it shut to make the perfect waffle.
Now that everything is made, I am sitting on a barstool, eating my breakfast. I even decided to cook some small pancakes with the little amount of batter I had left. To my luck Harry hasn't woken up yet and I hope it stays that way.
It is around seven in the morning, the sunrise has finally risen and it reflects onto my back. I cut my waffle, drowning it with syrup and shoving the piece of food into my mouth, the flavors all hitting my taste buds at once.
"What are you doing?" The rasp of his voice makes me turn around, midbite, my eyes look down, and I'm staring at his torso. The ink on his body makes me weak in the knees. A butterfly lies printed on his tanned skin, a beautiful piece of art.
"Eating." I mumble, chewing the soggy piece of waffle. He walks around, passing me and stands across, leaning forward with his elbows balanced on the kitchen counter. His eyes focus on my food, switching back to my eyes.
"Eating?"
I nod, playing with my eggs. Catching a glimpse at him, he's walking around to where the rest of the food sits. Takes an extra plate from his cabinet, and is throwing food onto the plate he just grabbed. I look away, diving right back into my food.
"You know, I have never had a girl make me breakfast." He informs me, taking a seat next to me and putting a piece of egg straight into his mouth.
"Well, make it your last..." I mutter, shoving another piece of my waffle into my mouth.
"Are you not a morning person?"
"Oh I am..." I shove the food into my mouth, "I just didn't sleep well." I be honest, looking him in the corner of the eye.
"Why didn't you leave?"
"I don't know..." I say, finishing my food and pushing the plate forward. I lean against the chair, crossing my arms over my chest, "I'm leaving when I'm done cleaning up."
"No," he shakes his head. "It's my house. I can do it." He's pushing himself out of the chair and collecting all his from the counter. He takes my plate, placing it in the sink with his.
"I made the mess, let me." I get out from my own seat, beating him to the cooking pan and extra waffles and pancakes.
"Eulalia, I said, I can do it." Harry's tone rises, coming up behind. When I turn around, the plate is falling out of my hand and onto the floor, both of our faces inches away from each other. I can feel his breath flow onto my face softly, my eyes look down to his lips, gazing back to his eyes.
The shatter of the plate spills onto the tiled floor, spreading around our feet, "shit. I-I didn't mean to. Damn it, Eulalia, you're so fucking clumsy." I grumble to myself, reaching down to pick up the pieces of his plate.
"Hey," Harry says softly, coming down to my level and taking the pieces out of my hand, "it was an accident," he looks at me, "accidents happen, Eulalia." I shake my head, frustrated from how nice he is being.
"But-but I already cooked food in your home, and now I have broken an expensive plate. I'll pay you back. I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry, Harry. Just give me a few minutes and I-I should have it done. All you have to do is tell me where your broom is a-and I will pick it up. I promise. I just can't believe I've ruined your things- made myself food. It's just so rude of me-"
"Love Dove, calm down..." He chuckles softly.
Love Dove.
"Stop apologizing, you didn't mean to ruin it, besides I haven't used these plates in a while. It won't hurt to break a few, see," he gets off from the floor and grabs another replica of the plate that I just dropped. He lifts it over his head, throwing it away from me and letting it shatter everywhere.
"That was a bit unnecessary, don't you think, Harry?"
He shrugs his shoulders, walking carefully around the broken pieces of glass. When he walks away for a few seconds around the corner, he's coming back around with a broom and he's carefully sweeping away.
I get up myself to help him, "Eulalia, how about I clean up, and you go take a shower. Does that sound OK?" The way he looks like he's demanding me to go do what he says and I'm too nervous to decline his words.
"Fine." I huff, making my way around the damage, to go into his guest room once again. I noticed he had a bathroom in here, so I walked inside, the size not surprising me for being a small apartment for a lot of money.
Pulling the handle up, the cold water turns into steaming. I close the door, keeping it unlocked. Removing my clothing one by one, placing it on the bathroom counter so I can change right back into them.
As my feet step into the shower, the water pressure hits my back instantly, making me arch slightly from the extreme temperature. Once my hair is rinsed underneath the water, letting it sit there for a few seconds to get it soaked.
I grab a bottle of shampoo he has rested on a shelf and I'm lathering it in my hands. Massaging my head with my nails to let the shampoo sink into the roots of my head, I hear the door of the bathroom open.
"Hello?"
"Sorry, I remembered there aren't any clean towels in here, but now you do. They're next to your clothes. If you need something just shout."
"Thanks..." I mumble loud enough for him to hear.
As I hear the door close, my brain thinks different thoughts. My mind instead wants him to stay with me, in his bathroom. For him to care for me in his shower. And to kiss me on the neck with his cherry lips, reaching up to my wet lips.
Love Dove.
Why?
The texture of the conditioner in my hair makes it smooth. It has the smell of coconut and honey, with another hint of fruit, but I can't put a finger on which type of fruit. It's sweet as it's mixed with coconut and honey.
When all the conditioner is washed out of my hair I grab the body wash, smoothing it against my skin and letting it drip down to the floor and onto the ground. The soft bubbles pop when they impact the floor.
Doing one more last rinse of my body, taking in the warm water and the hot steam fogging up the air. I turn the handle off, pushing the shower curtain and the cool breeze hitting my warm skin, the instant touch spiking goosebumps to reach around my body. My feet step to the towels, wrapping the dry to my drenched skin, it keeps me warm. I take another one, throwing my hair in it.
I stare into the fogged mirror, seeing my blurred silhouette, letting my body drip on his tiled bathroom floor. When I'm dried as much as I can, I get ready to put my clothes back on; I notice my clothes have been replaced with some of his clothes. He's given me a sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. Pulling the clothes on, they're much bigger compared to my skinny body.
Taking the towel off my head, I comb my hair with my fingers, getting the stands untangled as much as I can.
When I'm finally finished I turn his light off, and walk back into the guest bathroom. My clothes are backed in a bag. My phone is next to it.
I grab my phone, seeing if Louis has checked up and has gotten any news, but he's empty with messages. But I do notice a text from Melina, noticing she had texted me and is checking in. I give her a quick update, saying I'm OK.
Taking my phone, the bag I'm leaving the bedroom once more. Harry is now finished in the kitchen, dishes have been rinsed and put away.
"Are the clothes OK?" His voice comes from behind me and I'm turning around to him in a fresh, black suit. He buttons up the cuffs of his suit, smoothing out the material of his outfit. The maroon color against his skin makes my stomach turn for how pretty he looks for work, I assume.
"What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a Lawyer."
Instantly when the words slip out of his mouth, my stomach has dropped to my ass. Not only is he a lawyer, but he's definitely a good one, which puts me at risk for even being in his presence.
If he found out who I really was, he could ruin my reputation, and I can't let that happen. Yes, he's a kind man, but he isn't afraid to be serious. It's the lawyer's instinct, which, good job for you, you're good at your career, but I can't get ruined in the making.
Lawyers aren't afraid to do what they do best.
You may be asking, what do they do best?
They do best by winning.
And when they do, that means they aren't afraid to do it again.
"Eulalia, you OK?"
I swallow the knot in my throat, faking a smile on my lips.
"All good." I say softly, "just surprised that you're a Lawyer."
"Well, are you ready to go?" I nod my head, letting him pass by me. The grip I have on my phone and bag is tight, my skin getting warm and rubbing against the objects in my hands.
My feet shuffle around, and he's standing by the front door, waiting for me to make my exit out. Quickly putting my shoes on and I'm reaching out. I keep my eyes in front of me, turning away from him.
Our feet move at the same pace, reaching up to the elevator as we wait for it to reach his floor, "where's your car?" I ask him.
"In the parking garage..." Stupid question, Eulalia.
"I knew that," I brushed it off, my eyes looking down at my feet. His attendance, close to my own, makes me breath heavily in this noiseless hallway. As I hear my own breath, I try to settle it by holding my breath, feeling my face become warming.
Soon later, the elevator is ringing and the golden doors are opening up. I stand next to all the buttons, not sure which one to press.
"PG. It stands for Parking Garage."
"Right," my fingers hover over it, pressing it gently to make it light up a golden, yellow. As we wait in the quiet elevator, our own ruffles of the clothes we wear echo, "did you have any dreams?"
"Yes, I can't remember what it was about."
"Oh, yeah, me too." I smile.
"You seem off. Did I do something?"
"God, no." I shake my head, changing my stance to right next to him. Shoulder to shoulder, "I'm begging for my bed." I lie, trying not to lose my shit on how he's a Lawyer.
The thought of me knowing it, and him not having a clue on my deep secret. It makes me feel guilty. Like I want to tell him, reveal my true self.
"Sorry, was it uncomfortable, the guest room?"
"No!" My voice says instantly, "no, I told you, I didn't sleep well, but that's just me. Not the bed." My voice is soft, gentle, trying to hide my emotions.
The elevator comes to a stop and the doors are once again open up. We leave the tight space, my steps following his. He escalates, my feet gradually catching up with his.
A car that he seems to notice, we stop at. He's unlocking it, allowing me to climb inside.
Once the seat belt is tight around my body, I hear my phone go off. I assume it's Melina answering back, but when I see my mom I already have a feeling that she needs me at the bookstore.
Mom: Do you mind coming into the shop?
Me: on my way!
"Do you actually mind bringing me to the bookstore?" I ask Harry as he pulls out of the parking spot and finds his way out of the parking garage.
"Sure," he answers, "want a coffee?"
"I don't like coffee..."
"What!?" He says, shocked
———
sorry for the short chapter...
anywaysss...a bloody accident happens soon !
*laughs creepily*
goodbye my lovers
- Jaz