CHRYSALIS

27.

Time is moving faster than I can keep up.

The last of our time in London was amazing. We spent the rest of the day with Gemma just hanging around the house, playing board games, and eating snacks while Etta James played quietly.

Anne invited us for dinner at her place so we went, of course. She made pasta and fresh bread that was to die for, and we drank a bottle of her favorite wine. Her house was just as warm and inviting as she is. They all have this incredible way of making you feel so settled and comfortable around them, even in unfamiliar territory.

When we got back to the house late that evening we both sank into the couch. Harry turned on a late-night talk show and we leaned against each other while our eyes got heavy.

I woke up Sunday morning tucked into my bed in the guest room with sunlight spilling in through the blinds and the smell of coffee tickling my nostrils. After several groaning yawns and body stretches I managed to drag myself from the fluffy comforter and sheets, and into a shower.

I slipped my legs into a stretchy pair of joggers and a cropped red sweatshirt before I went down to say good morning to H.

His back was to me and I spent a few seconds just leaning against the banister and admiring the moment. Harry's torso was bare and the smooth skin of his back was almost glistening in the sunlight as he moved around the kitchen with a pair of white trousers on his hips.

He was humming to himself while he made breakfast, stirring wilted spinach into eggs while bread toasted in the oven below him. I surprised him when I came around the kitchen island, and he dropped the spatula into the pan when his body jumped. I teased him for a bit and then I got to work buttering toast and pulling down plates for us. I cut up some fruit and poured us each a glass of water, but I made sure to grab his grass juice from the fridge too since so knew he'd want it.

We ate breakfast at the island while we watched the rain drizzle down the windows. It reminded me of home, watching the time pass in a wash of grey skies and cold rain for months on end. It made me think of my mom and how she always had a harder time during the rain. Seasonal depression runs rampant around my hometown but it always hit worse for her. We had to be vigilant during the winter, to make sure she couldn't hurt herself at home.

"Where'd you go? You're in your head somewhere." Harry said while he nudged my elbow with his own.

"Oh shit, sorry. I was just watching the rain and it made me think of home and my mom, that's all."

"Do you wanna talk about her?" Harry asked while he sipped his juice. I shook my head before hopping off my barstool and grabbing my plates.

"No, I don't. I want to enjoy our last few hours in London!" I shook the gloom out of my mind and smiled at him while we took our dishes to the sink, "Go put more clothes on, I'll wash these." I bumped him with my hip and shushed him when he tried to protest until he finally gave in and went to the bedroom.

I cleaned up the kitchen and cleaned out what was left of his perishable foods into bags so that they could be dropped off at the kitchen of a women's shelter downtown. I don't know why I was so shocked when he told me that that's what he does each time he leaves his home here, after all, it seems exactly like something he would do, but sometimes he is just too good to be true.

We packed up our bags and loaded them into the trunk of his sexy car before we said goodbye to the house and locked it up.

Harry wanted to show me a few things around town before we went to the airport so we headed out, with security following close behind.

We went to a small market and got coffee while we looked at local vendors. It was so precious to watch people interact with him and watch their faces light up while he made conversation with the locals.