The Beacon [h.s]

37

Nyla West

It's Sunday morning and I'm currently cooking breakfast for Harry and I. Never thought I'd be saying that sentence, but here we are. I came downstairs to find the kitchen clean and dry of all its water from our water fight last night. I had to force myself to stop smiling as I thought about yesterday and got the ingredients out for breakfast.

My sleep schedule has been messed up lately, getting up at six in the morning everyday for work has made "sleeping in" during the weekends be eight thirty am at the latest. I can't say the same for Harry though, he's still asleep and I'm almost done with breakfast, it's ten am now. We slept in our own rooms last night, nothing exactly compelled us to sleep in the same bed, which was fine with me.

I didn't have anything else to do and I honestly didn't feel like eating another yogurt for breakfast, so I made pancakes and bacon, enough for two people.

"What are you doing?"

I let out a yelp and almost drop the pan I'm holding when Harry's voice startled me from behind. I set the pan back onto the stove, turning around with the spatula still in my hand. Harry's standing by the kitchen island, eyes squinted like he just woke up, because I'm pretty sure he just did.

His hair is a mess of sleep-tousled curls, some falling on his forehead. He brings his hand up to push his hair out of his face, a yawn escaping his lips. He's wearing plaid pajama pants and isn't wearing a shirt, giving me a view of every one of his tattoos lingering on his toned torso. I suddenly wished I looked this good the second I woke up.

Though when I finally brought my eyes back up to his, he was smirking at me. It's then I realized I was mindlessly staring at his body.

"Don't stop now, my ego is fucking loving this." He slips his hands into his pants pockets, leaning back against the counter across from me, his muscles flexing with every movement.

"Did you just wake up?" I asked instead, trying to distract my brain from all it's wrong thoughts.

"Yeah, just brushed my teeth though, didn't feel like changing." He said with a shrug, his eyes staying on mine.

I nodded before I couldn't hold our gaze for any longer so I turned back around and placed the pancakes onto the plates. Harry's now standing next to me, his bare torso being in view from the corner of my eye.

"You made us breakfast?" I see him turn his head to look at me.

I grab my plate and look up at him. "Yep." I answer and walk to the stools at the island. I take a seat in the normal spot I usually sit in, seeing Harry coming over to me with his plate in his hand too.

He screeches the stool out next to me and plops himself on it. But he doesn't start eating, he turns his body to stare at me instead. "You know, you really just keep proving my point of you being a mom." He says with a chuckle.

I turn so my knees face him and I give him a blank look. "Do you want the food or not?"

"Yeah..." He answers cautiously.

"Then eat." I say with a chuckle before turning away from him and stabbing my pancake with my fork.

Harry turns back to his plate with a grin, but he freezes the bacon he's about to bite into and he glances at me for a moment before mumbling, "Thanks," it was so low I barely heard it, he looks away from me and eats in silence.

I snort at his awkward appreciation, giggling to myself as I eat. "Welcome." I mumble after a moment.

"You're a good fucking cook." Harry comments, only one out of the four pancakes I made for him remains on his plate, and he's currently devouring that one too.