I wake up to knocks on the door. I mean it has to be Harry as it's not me. And we're the only people in the house. "Come in," I call out. He enters the room and jumps on the bed next to me. My heart thumps in my chest. And I don't even know why.
"How was your sleep, love?" He asks, still led on the bed, on his side.
"It was great, thanks," I say. I mean I'm partly lying just upon the fact that the night before I was scared out of my own skin then woke up in a different house I was meant to be in. Was it comfy? Yes. Would I like to go through all that again? No.
"Great," He smiles. We sit lay there for a moment doing absolutely nothing. Now, on a normal occasion, I would find us laying here like paralysed animals would be very strange and most likely concerning, on this occasion though, it seems a lot less concerning and strange. More just peaceful. No one is talking, I'm not hidden under a table. So, it's going great. "So, love, I was wondering-"
"You really do like asking things very early, don't you," I ask. He also asked if I could come over yesterday. Now, clearly, he does like asking questions early in the morning, which leads to the question I just asked. He stares into my eyes and laughs. I don't know what's so funny about eyes, but here we are.
"Just like you like hiding under tables," He chuckles. I frown. "Only joking," He squeaks. He looks into my eyes once again then quickly reverts his attention to the ceiling. "Anyways, I was wondering if you'd like to go for a walk, maybe stay at home," He pauses for a moment, before looking at me slightly, raising his index finger, "Oh, I think I may have a knitting and sewing kit somewhere!" He says in his enthusiastic tone. "Whatever you want, love."
Now, sewing and knitting sound fun. Oh god, I sound like a grandma saying that. Everything he's offered sounds equally fun. Maybe, if he allows me to (he has no reason to say no.) we could do all the things. "Walking and sewing sound fun," His eyes lights up like fireworks "But, I need to do writing..." Now I feel bad. "Sorry, Harry," That. Name. "We have tomorrow, remember," His eyes lights up once again. I have no idea why, though.
"Why can't we do all of these things today?" He asks. He does have a fair point. He does 'I'm right, you're wrong' smirk before continuing. "Why can't we go for a walk, then you can do your writing, then we can finish with sewing and knitting?" He is very correct. We could do all of this today. So we will.
"Okay, Harry." I smile. We have another silence, that we don't want to break. We don't necessarily stare at anything. At least I don't. The silence isn't awkward at all and I could stay like this forever. It's just peaceful.
"Okay, love, I let you get dressed," He slowly sits up. And just like that, it was as if he were never there.
Getting dressed is my least favourite bit about my day. I have terrible fashion sense. I couldn't look good even if I tried. Now I do understand for some people love getting dressed, but that's just not me. In fact, that's the opposite of how I feel about getting dressed.
What also makes getting dressed worse is that:
1. Someone is waiting for me. Adds pressure.
2. I'm not in my house where all my clothes are.
So, with my resources, I am limited. Blossom, so being so dramatic. Let's try and think quick. I pick out a random pair of bottoms without looking, they feel like jeans. Then I repeat with a top, I feel some big buttons on them, so I'm guessing it's one of those cardigan-looking tops.
