Matching Rings [h.s]

17

*btw i imagine her room looking something like this, also keep in mind that there's a mirror*

I don't bother closing the door of my bedroom once Harry and I were both inside— no one was home anyway and I doubt anyone would come back.

Walking deeper into my room I noticed that Harrys folded shirt was still sat folded on my bed from this morning, I grabbed it and quickly tossed it onto my chair that sat in the corner of my room before he could see it.

After, I kick off my shoes and jump onto my bed, landing straight onto my stomach. I keep my head up with my hands and up lean on my elbows to watch Harry evaluate the interior of my room. I was nervous as to what he would think of it.

"I like your room." Harry murmurs taking it all in since he didn't really get the chance earlier due to our little...situation with Maya.

My room was a pretty decent size— not insanely huge but also not exactly small. It was cozy and minimalistic, with a couple plants here and there. My bed was all while with two nice wooden nightstands at either side. There was also a desk at the opposite side along with a wall filled with things I've hung up over the years.

Harry walked around the rest of my room, continuing to take time and look around as I watched him. He stopped to take extra time to look at the collage of pictures and posters I had hanging up across the wall over my desk.

"This is sick." He states referring to the college of countless pictures.

There was also a calendar hanging up on the wall that I use to write anything of importance, birthdays, school related dates, plans, appointments, really anything else you could think would be necessary on a calendar.

"Your birthday's on saturday?" He asked keeping his eyes on my calendar referring to the purple writing on the upcoming Saturday box.

This past week has been absolutely crazy, I haven't even gotten the chance to think about my birthday coming up in a few days. I feel like my birthday from last year just happened.

If I had the option I would skip over my birthday. I hate the idea of aging, for one. Two, every single year that I can remember, somethings goes wrong.

"Yeah, November 26th." I answer.

"You'll be... sixteen?" He questions looking back at me laying on my bed.

I don't even remember mentioning my age to him, I'm sure I must have at one point though. The fact that he remembered something so little like that got me a bit giddy.

"Yup." I mumble with a slight sigh.

He nodded to himself, making a mental note of the date I'm sure.

I look down to the ground and without meaning to, I pull a face of discomfort. He must have noticed, his eyebrows furrow and his eyes glued to me.

"What's the face for?" He asks. "Don't like birthdays?"

"Not really." I admit.

"Why not? Who doesn't like birthdays?"

"Don't know, something bad always happens on the day." I shake my head thinking about which bad birthday I should bring up. "Like last year, Liam took me to the beach, and he tripped while playing catch and broke his arm. He was in a cast for the next ten weeks."

Harry gives me a look telling me to go on.

"On my 10th birthday, my sister fell off her bike and had to get stitches because she nearly cracked her head open. My 7th birthday was the last day I ever saw my dad." I blurt out.