"I find you to be miraculous. You're worth more than gold, songbird baby," I tell him, watching his green eyes light up.
"You are my golden girl, honeybee. The love of my life," Harry drawls slowly, adoration clearly plastered on his face, "I ador...
ɴᴏᴡᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: Gold Rush by Taylor Swift ────────────⚪️──────────────────◄◄⠀▐▐⠀►►⠀⠀⠀ 1:00 / 3:05
"i don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch, everybody wants you, everybody wonders what it would be like to love you..."
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Close friends Instagram Story by emersonaldridge
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My tea from the day before sits on the coffee table as gray as the Malibu skies this lazy Thursday afternoon. The smell of incense burns in the air, and the sound of the washing machine meets my ears quietly. I tap away at my phone, trying to perfect my Instagram story of Harry.
"Is this caption okay?" I ask Harry, showing him my phone and the caption on what I am about to post.
"Mhmm," He hums, barely glancing at my phone before turning back to the book he is reading. He had stolen my book In Watermelon Sugar quickly after I had finished it and is almost done with it himself. We made a habit of having long discussions about the characters over dinner and I learned that Harry likes to take the contrarian stance on most everything, which is thought-provoking for me, a person who tends to just go along with what others say.
I had taken a series of polaroid photographs of him earlier that day and found one I liked. Harry approved the photo for my close friend's Instagram story after telling me, "Emerson, you don't have to ask permission to post things of me. I trust you, remember?"
I click post and shut my phone off, sitting it on the table in front of us. We sit in Harry's living room, as we have for most of the day, soft music playing in the background while reading our respective books. I notice the sun was starting to set and felt hunger creeping up causing my stomach to growl slightly.In an air of dramatics, I turn in my seat and throw myself over his lap, and sigh. Harry looks down at me and smiles softly, dropping his book on the table to allow his hands to fall into my hair. He starts to braid a piece, and I close my eyes for a moment. He hums along to the music, as he always does and his rings clink against each other as he plays with my blonde hair.
"What's for dinner?" I ask, looking up at him, "I'm ravenous."
"I have some pasta we could cook, I think," He thinks for a moment, "Maybe some tomatoes and spinach we could put in it. Hop up, and I'll go look." He taps my legs, and I sit up, hair falling in a tangled mess around my face. I pull a band from around my wrist and put it up into a quick bun. Harry walks away from me into the kitchen, and I stand from my spot on the the couch that is now formed to my body, and stretch my arms over my head.
"I'll make us some drinks while you do that," I call before walking over to his extensive bar and pulling down the ingredients for Harry's favorite drink, a negroni.
