Peach // H.S.

Eight.

✣ ✣ ✣

Tink.

Tink. Tink.

Hard dings of God only knows what hitting your window is what ultimately wakes you up. You sit straight up from the sudden clinks, rubbing your eyes to help yourself wake up. It's still dark outside, and you can't yet hear any birds singing to signal that it's a later hour in the morning. Turning over to your bedside table, you grab the alarm clock resting by the corner and hold it up close to your face.

Jesus, five in the morning?

Now, what the hell is that sound?

It continues to ring through your room as you finally get out of bed and readjust your babydoll pajamas, ruffling a hand through your hair just to loosen it up a bit. There's no fear in going over to see what's got you up so early, so you stroll over without an ounce of worry to fling your window open, just slightly irritated.

"Harry?"

You call, knitting your eyebrows together tightly in pure confusion as you stare down at him, gazing back up at you with a toothy grin. Your gaze shifts from his face and down to his hands, a bunch of tiny pebbles resting in it.

"Were you just throwing those at my window?!"

Harry only shrugs, emptying the rocks from his hands before shifting closer to your window and surveying the area.

"Think I can climb this tree? Wanna see you."

"I mean, if you're good at climbing trees? You said eight, Harry. Not five! My father's leaving soon, you'll wake everyone up!"

A dismissing wave is his only response to you before he's grasping at the branches to hoist himself up into your room. He makes sure to check his footing with each step, glancing down then up to you as you wait with your fingertips resting against your lips. It doesn't take him very long, and soon enough he's shoving himself through your bedroom window before tripping over himself and landing with a loud thud on your floor.

"Get up, you're being so loud!"

You whisper yell, grabbing the collar of Harry's worn-in denim jacket and yank him off of the floor, which results in a small peep from him and his uncomfortableness. He wipes some imaginary dust off from his shoulders and takes in your room, nodding a bit before kicking off his sneakers and pulling you in tight.

"Cute room, Peach. It's very you. Whatcha doin', hm?"

"Trying to sleep, Harry. Why are you here? Keep quiet, please. You're not supposed to be here until later. I just wanna know why you're at my house."

He brings a single hand up to grab your jaw, giving it a soft squeeze before leaning in and placing tiny pecks to your lips in between each word.

"Just-"

Kiss.

"Missed-"

Kiss.

"You,"

Kiss.