Aurelie. [H.S]

CHAPTER 39

25 December 2017

Kensington, London

Aurelie's POV

"Merry Christmas." a voice beside me whispers, brushing the hair out of my face considerately. I stir in my sleep, stretching out my fatigued muscles and scrunching up my eyes. I open them for a second, see a smiley Harry observing me, and close them again.

"No, come on. It's eight." he whispers, trying to hide the excitement in his voice, "Time to get up."

Pulling on my corner of the duvet, I bury my head in the sheets, hiding from Harry. I feel the cool air prickle my skin and I groan, recognising that he's stolen the blanket from me. "It's too early H. Just five more minutes." I yawn, hugging my pillow to my body.

He rolls further over to my side, laughing to himself. "You said that an hour ago. You really do need to get up." he resorts to kissing me now, his lips fluttering against my flushed cheeks.

"Fine." I say in a voice so small it could be a whisper. I stretch my muscles once again, wave goodbye to the comfort of my bed and slide my feet into my fluffy slippers. From there I grab my robe and wrap myself in it.

"That a girl." he grins, holding out his hand for me to take. As we walk down the hall a few movements of people in their rooms can be heard, but apart from that, most people are still sleeping. "See? We should be sleeping like everyone else!" I argue, only to be met by a shushing sound from Harry.

I stick my tongue out at him through the dark, tiptoeing across the floorboards with our hands still linked. Tate follows behind us, not quite as quietly, his wagging tail thrashing against the walls as we near the stairs.

Harry flicks on the fairy lights which are hung all across the halls in the house, the ambience being perfect for times like these festive mornings. "Merry Christmas Harry." I whisper, breathless at the sight of all the presents under the tree from the landing.

"Merry Christmas." he returns, even if he did already say it to me earlier when I was more zombie like. Luckily, I hadn't shipped anyones presents out, I was planning on giving them to people late, in person, after Harry got angry whilst I phoned him on the way to the post office. Now it makes sense why he wanted me to keep them.

"This place is ours?" he asks as if he can't believe it, his foot reaching the bottom step.

"All ours."

Whilst he sorts out any last minute decoration issues, I resort to pouring cups of tea, two for Harry and myself and one for Anne. I have absolutely no doubt that she's one of the ones that are wide awake, waiting for an appropriate time to come down.

I very softly play carols in the background, twirling to them in my silk robe as the tea's cool. Harry comes behind me and embraces me, swaying us both to the music simultaneously.

The fridge is left open as I pour the milk in, still attached to him. "Fridge light washes this room white." he sings, clearly proud of himself for the correlation.

"Narcissist." I mutter under my breath, just about loud enough so that he can hear. He jumps back from me in disbelief, making tutting sounds with his mouth.

"How dare you say such things on Christmas day."

I shrug and close the refrigerator unbothered, hiding a smile.

"Can you believe it's Christmas day?" he asks with a beaming expression. It was obvious that he was looking forward to today, but I had underestimated just how much he was.