51.
●•Harry•●
I was so sure it had been nothing but a dream that I actually woke up sighing, rubbing my eyes lazily and staring at the ceiling for long minutes before I finally turned my head to the side so that I could see the empty space next to me.
But if it all had been just a dream, why could I feel her smell so perfectly, so strong and vivid, still? Why could I still feel my arms so warm and tingling due to the touch of our skins? It couldn’t have been just a dream. It all seemed so real; the emotions, the exchange of looks, her words, her lips…
Then again, I convinced myself it had, indeed, happened. She had been there the night before, we did hang out and she did sleep with me. I had her for a whole night, I shared with her part of my past and we did cuddle all night long. It was real. I’m not that crazy. At least not yet; I haven’t got to that point.
But, well, I couldn’t expect waking up with her next to me, could I? That would be wanting too much. Of course she would leave before I could even wake up. She was probably home right now, trying to make Tyler believe she had really spent the night at Angel’s, acting as if not a single second of our night had happened. Though I know she won’t forget it. I know she’ll be thinking of it all the time ‘till we see each other again, just like I’ll do. Reliving every moment, because. Because it was perfect.
I wish I could stay a bit more in bed, but my belly was already bothering me too much. And the smell of food wasn’t helping a bit. I truly hated my neighbor on Saturday mornings; he always did that thing of forcing me out of bed to eat my crappy cereals while he seemed to have a fully delicious meal at 10a.m.
As soon as I pushed the blanket away, I cringed, hating how cold it actually was today. It wasn’t raining anymore, just a slight drizzle falling, but still, the air carried the cold everywhere, and even a bit of haze. After breakfast I would most certainly go back to bed and ignore all the things I had to do. I was on post Kirsten depression. Her absence always made me feel like I was high or something. Especially after moments like last night’s.
Still half asleep, I walked out of the room, reeling my way to the kitchen. But I stopped as soon as I reached my living room, freezing on my spot and realizing the smell of food wasn’t coming from my neighbor’s apartment. It was from here. And that could only mean-
My heart nearly jumped out of my mouth when I spotted her there, leaning on the sink while staring at the floor, wearing my jumper over her shirt. It was so long it actually reached somewhere above her knees, hiding her jeans a bit; the sleeves so large that she had to fold them a couple of times so that she could see her own hands. And damn; she looked beautiful.
I gulped, and she must have heard it – or maybe I’d done something else to catch her attention – because she peered up, looking at me, and shyly smiled, cocking her head to the side a tad bit before quickly glancing at the oven. And I still couldn’t move, because my eyes were too busy looking at her from head to toe, trying to save every single detail of that scene inside my head. She was there.
“Mornin’,” she finally said, ignoring whatever she was looking at and focusing back on me. When I said nothing, she looked a bit… scared(?), and avoided meeting my eyes. Wait, had I done something? “I- I hope you don’t mind I borrowed this…” she whispered, pointing at the jumper she was wearing. “I found it in your bathroom and it’s cold, I’ll put it back there later.”
Well, I didn’t know exactly what was happening, but I still couldn’t move. And I was so far away from her, staring at her petite frame from the hallway door while she was at the kitchen, nervously waiting for me to say something when I couldn’t. I couldn’t! She had this kind of spell on me.
“Umm,” she scratched the back of her neck, grabbing the sleeve and unfolding it until her fingers were hidden. She then started playing with the material, unconsciously trying to find a distraction, because I was certainly staring at her like a freak. “Are you- are you mad?” she asked, tentatively looking at me.
What? No!
I blinked a couple of times before finally finding the strength to move towards her, doing it the fastest I could without actually running, because that would be beyond weird. And I don’t need her to think I’m weirder than what she already knows I am.
Silently, I grabbed her hand, searching for her fingers under the sleeve and tangling them with mine before pulling her to me, trying to make sure she was real; that was real. And she fit perfectly there, between my arms, lazily holding my waist, as if she was afraid of what my next move might be. Her head right under my chin, her messy hair falling loosely around her shoulders and framing her sleepy face perfectly.
“You look beautiful,” I whispered instead of actually answering her question, and just when I finished saying the words, I felt her relaxing in my arms and breathing out something that sounded like a giggle. “And no, I’m not mad. Why would I?”
Kirsten shrugged, slowly pulling away to look at me. “I stole your clothes, I’m not sure I’m allowed to do that, you know.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her. “You’re more than allowed. I don’t give a sh–t if you want to keep my whole wardrobe to yourself. It looks better on you anyways,” she smiled at me, playfully rolling her eyes before turning around and grabbing the baking gloves to carefully open the oven. “What are you doing there?” I finally asked, closing my eyes and allowing my nose to enjoy that wonderful smell. “It smells like heaven to me.”
“It’s actually just baked brunch omelet, but it does taste like heaven,” she proudly said, turning around with a baking sheet between her hands. My stomach did a quick flip-flop of excitement and I couldn’t help but ‘mhm’ at the sight of whatever she’d done. “Someone looks hungry.”
“Well, I’m not the best cook on Earth, so I guess I’m more excited than hungry, actually. This looks delicious. Where the hell did you learn to do it?” before I could even notice, I was pulling out a chair and taking a seat as Kirs grabbed a plate, cutting half of the omelet and handing it to me.
“People invented this really nice thing called internet, you should try it. Great menu for brunch,” she mockingly pointed out, taking a seat next to me, slightly rising from her seat so she could reach the jar of orange juice across the table. And everything about that ordinary scene made me feel just too happy to put in words.
There was no sun creeping through from the clouds across the window, no source of warmth, and it was nowhere near those movie scenes where the light was directly on her, making her glow with a whole aura around her as if she was actually an angel, but still, it was the most perfect thing I’ve seen. And I wouldn’t bother waking up like this every single day from now on. Just watching her in my clothes, her tight jeans and white socks; her lazy movements showing she was still a bit numb from sleep, her body slightly shrinking each time she touched some cold surface. And maybe I was going crazy from just paying attention to those things. I was certainly whipped.
“Nah, I’ve tried it and didn’t work for me,” I managed to say, standing up to get us two glasses before sitting back down across her on the table. It was easier to look at her this way.
“Well, you must be dumb, then. ‘Cause they give all instructions needed,” added Kirsten, already leading the fork to her mouth, distractedly staring at her own plate.
“I just wasn’t born for this, I guess. Cooking is not my thing.”
“Neither it’s mine,” she said offhandedly, still not looking up. I mimicked her movements, bringing the omelet to my mouth and Jesus Christ. Even her food is amazing and this is not fair. I’m just too in love with her already to be conquered by my stomach as well.
“What’s your thing, then? Mine’s music. Yours is…?”
She then tensed again, shrugging casually as if I could buy that. What was wrong about asking her what she liked to do? It was such an innocent question, and the fact that she’d reacted nervously could only intrigue me more. Everything about her was intriguing, to be fair. It’s just that each time I realize there’s a lot more than what I think there is.
“Kirs?” I tried, putting my hand over hers across the table and squeezing it gently, attempting to give her some comfort because there was certainly something wrong. “Is everything okay? I’m sorry if I asked something I shouldn’t; I promise I won’t-”
“Law,” she cut me off, her gaze a thousand times more focused on her omelet now. She even seemed angry. “If I could choose to study something it’d be law,” she shrugged again, avoiding me as much as she could.
I coughed uncomfortably, trying my best to find something else to talk about, just to undo that awkward aura between both of us. Damn. How am I supposed to know where to go and where not to go with her if she won’t open up to me? I’m not a psychic, for God’s sake. She could make it easier to me.
“Family business, then?” I asked, smiling slightly. Maybe that would make her smile as well?
“Yeah. Guess you can say that,” she harshly said, just then looking me into the eyes. Hers were a bit darker and she was certainly angry. Way to go, Styles. “Anyways, did you like it?” she then pointed to what was on my plate and it took me a couple of seconds to stop rambling inside my head and actually take in her words.
“Mhm-hm,” I agreed, taking another bite of the omelet, “You were born with the gift of cooking. Wish I had it,” I added, and this time she did smile. Well, at least that. But after it, we just got silent, appreciating nothing but the food and the lack of conversation. That, until “Why are you still here? I mean, I’m not complaining, but… I woke up and you were still here, I dunno.”
She pushed her plate aside and rolled her hands inside the sleeves of my jumper again, pulling her legs up on the chair and hugging them. Then she rested her chin on her knees, dreamingly – yeah, dreamingly – looking at me. How perfect that could still become? Because I’m head over heels and each time she brings me higher.
“Wanted to thank you before I left,” she whispered, and watching my frown, she added “For last night. For being such a gentleman – even if it’s a cliché one –, for caring.” Kirsten seemed a lot embarrassed, and I couldn’t help but lift the corners of my lips into a half smile.
“Whenever you need,” I said, with a nod. “You know, we can repeat that any time. Today, if you’re up to it. Tomorrow again, and then the day after, and after...”
She laughed, shaking her head. A second later, she was putting the empty plates into the sink, and before she could fold the sleeves again to start washing them, I stood up and stopped her by turning her around and pressing my lips against hers.
“Don’t,” I whispered, eyes still closed. “You look cute with sweater paws.”
She giggled again, pushing me away softly and just then I opened my eyes to meet hers. She had a kind of sad smile on her face, her blue eyes a bit deeper than what I remembered. Her hands were folded behind my waist, and she slightly leaned forward to hug me, standing on her tiptoes to rest her head between my neck and shoulder.
“I look cute with anything,” she mocked, and I didn’t dare to disagree, so I just kissed her head, smiling, because with her it was impossible not to.
“God, girl,” I breathed out, closing my eyes and pressing her tighter against me. I was so, so into her. It was actually torture even thinking of being apart from her after last night, after this morning. After seeing her feeling for me exactly what I feel for her, I’m not sure I can keep my distance. I want to keep this going, I want her to act this way every time we see each other, and I want it to be often, oh, so often.
And, well, I didn’t have to say anything else, because she knew exactly what I’d meant by breathing out those words. She just knew it, because she hugged me tighter, too, and nodded in agreement.
“Yeah,” she whispered, fully pulling apart this time. And I knew it was now she was going to go. Ugh, no. Can’t she stay here all day long?
“Please,” I begged, wrapping her in my arms again and attempting to bring her closer once more. “Not yet.”
“Curly. I have to,” she difficultly said against my chest, trying to make the words sound audible. “Really, let me go.”
“Nope,” I stubbornly popped out the “p”, acting as childish as possible, because maybe if I looked cute enough she would stay. I was praying for that.
“Styles, I’m serious. I need to go back home. And I also need to see Angel,” she cried out, trying her best to push me away. “Harryyyyyy, please,” she mumbled between a smile, knowing that would get my attention. Had she just called me Harry? Without being on the edge of breaking apart as the last time – the only time – it happened?
“Wait. What did you just say?” I quickly grabbed her by the shoulders, looking at her smiley face.
“What? Please?” her voice had a teasing tone on it, knowing exactly what I was talking about. She knew exactly what to do, didn’t she?
“Before that,” I approached her, letting go of her shoulders and moving my fingers up to her cheeks to caress them. “Did I just hear you call me Harry?”
She arched an eyebrow, smiling proudly. “Maybe.”
“Say it again.”
“Maybe,” she repeated, closing her eyes due to the proximity of our faces. “If you let me go, I may say it again.”
“Ugh, you make it so hard,” I complained, pecking her lips at first, then turning it into a proper kiss. She didn’t object.
And for the next seconds, we just stood there, kissing each other, until she found the strength to pull away as always. That was her job. If it was up to me we’d die without air.
“Really gotta go, curly,” and this time I couldn’t stop her from escaping my grip.
She quickly stood on her tiptoes and pecked my lips one last time, not getting too close so she could give me the chance to grab her again.
“Bye, Harry.”
●•Author's Note•●
dedication goes to: @oopsmary not healthy reading inside a car! This will fuck up your vision and brain, omg. hahaha But thanks. I'm so, so glad you like it this much you made such an effort for me! I know how sick you can be reading while moving. Thank you (:
note: FUCKING CHRIST! The response to last chapter was AMAZING! I'M SMILING SO DAMN MUCH YOU ARE ALL SO INCREDIBLE I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY HEART. My babes *tearing up* WHEN I WENT TO BED YOU HADN'T EVEN REACHED THE NUMBER OF VOTES I ASKED FOR AND THEN WHEN I COME HOME AFTER SCHOOL THERE'S 50 VOTES MORE THAN WHAT I EXPECTED TO. 580 VOTES, REALLY? I LOVE YOU. And I'm also glad to see many of you read the ANs. Aw, bless you all. Whatever. SHE JUST CALLED HIM HARRY! WHAT? WHAT? Yep. It's real. And oh, if there's anyone confused, I'll make it clear, just in case, you know? KIRSTEN AND HARRY DID NOT HAVE SEX. They literally slept together. That's all. Hopefully, you liked this chapter as well? I hope so. By the way, why do you think Kirs got so mad when Harry asked her what was her thing? Lemme know.
next update: Friday (September 13th)
580 votes again for early update, perhaps? If you did it once, I'm sure you can do it twice. Please, make me happy? For more Karry cute moments? :)
Love you all, Dani xx