Hearts Of Gold h.s

Chapter 12

There is a pov switch in the middle of this chapter !! Enjoy !!

E

Waking up without Harry next to me sucks. He is really good at waking up in the morning and sneaking out without even disturbing me.

But there is always a note sitting on the nightstand for me in the morning. Sometimes it is a sweet note, some mornings it's funny and sometimes it's telling me about plans he made for that night. But, regardless there is always a note there. And if he doesn't spend the night, it's a text.

I roll over and mindlessly search on the nightstand for a note, but all I feel is my phone.

I sit up and look around on my nightstand thinking that it just isn't where it normally is or maybe it fell on the floor? But, there isn't one.

I mean it's not a real reason to be upset... I'm just confused. It's been every single morning that we stay together and he leaves for work before I am awake.

I hate how self conscious I feel about it. I know he doesn't regret last night. He made it clear how much he enjoyed it.

Maybe he just woke up late or something? Maybe he just forgot?

I check my phone and there are no messages from him. Just Niall saying he will be back after work and that he stayed at Bailey's.

I decide to just get up and out of bed and take a shower to clear my mind. As I walk out of room I hear a really loud crash coming from my kitchen. To my knowledge I am here alone, so that's... odd.

I head down the hallway and peek my head through the door frame that goes to the kitchen.

And there stands Harry bent over picking up a few pans and silently cursing to himself and at the pans that fell to the ground.

He's in some knee length shorts and a random t-shirt. He has a hat on and some earbuds sit on the counter. Putting two and two together, I assume he went for a run when he woke up. But, he's here.

It's well past 10 am at this point and he's still here. Yes, since he runs the publishing office he is more or less allowed to make his own schedule, but he is pretty good about going to work and getting his shit done. If he misses a day, it's not the end of the world, but he runs the place. It's important that he's there.

"Harry?" I whisper from the kitchen doorway as he continues to quietly swear at the fallen pans.

When his attention isn't caught by my words I venture all the way into the kitchen to touch his shoulder.

I scared the living shit out of him I guess because as soon as I touched him he stood up too fast from his crouched position and smacked his head on the part of the counter that slightly hangs over the cabinets below it.

"Fuck" he hissed and grabbed the back of his head. I stood behind him with my hand slapped against my mouth. I was really trying not to laugh just in case he was actually hurt, but it was almost pure instinct.

He turns around and meets my eyes with his own and his face is contorted in pain. "Really snuck up on be, babe. I didn't even hear you up." he says removing his hand from the back of his head and slightly inspects it to make sure he isn't bleeding. "Are you okay? I tried saying your name, but you were too busy calling my saucepan a whore, so you didn't hear me." I laughed lightly.

"Babe.. I opened the cabinet and they all literally crashed out of it. Do you just stuff them in there?" he asks, pointing to the cabinet that is now missing half of the pans that were once stored there, but now lay on the floor.

"It was Niall, I swear." I hold my hands up in surrender at his accusation. "I don't even cook that much. Have you ever seen me in here cooking?" I asked him. He looks back down at the pans and then back to me. "I guess not. We should start cooking in here more often. It's a nice kitchen. Do you know how to?" He changes the subject quickly.