isabella [h.s.]

thirty nine

**without you, it's boring
someone should've warned me
love is so annoying**

ISABELLA

I wake up warm, which is probably due to the fact that along with Harry laying right next to me and therefore transferring his body heat to mine, my body is buried under the duvet and an extra blanket, both tucked tightly around me. My eyebrows furrow as I think back to last night, trying to recall if I grabbed it from somewhere and pulled it on in the middle of the night. Those thoughts are short-lived though, because a minute or so later my attention diverts to the sight of Harry waking up beside me, his face scrunching up in a cute yawn, rubbing at his tired eyes before blinking down at me sleepily.

"Hi," he murmurs in his sexy, raspy morning voice.

"Hi," I reply, my voice also sounding a little gravelly from sleep, my eyes squinting as I attempt to adjust to the light now filtering through the curtains. "What time is it?"

Harry turns around to grab his phone from the bedside table, pressing the side button to light up the screen. "8am."

"Shouldn't you be at the precinct already?"

"No," he shakes his head, dropping his phone down onto the bed. "I have a meeting at ten so I'm not going in until then."

I just nod slowly, yawning quietly as I glance down at my body again before raising my gaze back to his. "Care to tell me why I'm all bundled up in a cocoon like this?"

He pulls himself up to rest on his elbow, the edges of his lips lifting in amusement as he gazes down at me. "You were mumbling something about being cold, so I put another blanket on you."

"Oh," I say, blinking back at him as I think of what to say next. "That was nice of you."

He smiles. "Yeah, well, I am nice. I let you sleep in my bed, remember?"

I just roll my eyes playfully, shoving at his chest. "Shut up, you've been dying to have me in your bed again."

"Ah, you got me there," he says with a lazy grin, flopping back down next to me and gently  trailing his fingers along my arm. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"Are you offering to make it for me?" I ask, surprise leaking into my tone. "I'm shocked."

He lifts his head to look down at me properly, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because I didn't know you could cook," I tell him, absentmindedly pushing back a strand of hair that just fell across his forehead. For a second, I think he's going to comment on it, but he barely even seems to notice. As simple as it is, my heart warms a little at the absence of a reaction, wondering if this casual tactility will become second nature to us now. "You know, besides your staple of beans on toast."

He shoots me a look of feign offence. "I think you'll find I'm a great cook." He pauses, and when I arch an eyebrow at him skeptically, he relents with a sheepish smile and adds, "Most of the time."

"I guess we'll have to test you out," I say, beginning to pull myself out from under the blanket and duvet while also ignoring Harry's suggestive smirk from my words. "Could you do eggs on toast?"

"I could probably manage that," he agrees after  pretending to think about it for a while. "But can I have something first?" When I nod in response, oblivious and still half asleep, he suddenly leans forwards and plants a quick, gentle kiss on my lips before pulling back with a smile. And then, before I have the chance to say anything, he stands up from the bed and walks out of the room, shooting me a quick wink as he goes.