sixty eight

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wohoo getting close to 70!

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I'm the first one to wake up the following morning. It takes me a lot of courage to roll off of Harry's chest, but ten AM on a Saturday morning is late for me, despite me not being a morning person.

After brushing my teeth to the rhythm of my favorite song, I find my way into the kitchen. Harry's sound asleep in my bed, and I hope he finds the sleep he missed.

I decide to unwrap my cooking skills and make waffles for the two of us. While the mixture sits in the waffle iron, I'm slicing strawberries as a topping. I hope he'll be happy about me making him breakfast. He's had a rough night, and he deserves a day to rest.

He's already admitted to falling in love with me, and has been proving it with the affection he shows me. I'm afraid I'll never know what it's like to love him, because I don't know what it should feel like. I'm acting all smart when I tell him you know when you know, but it's actually so hard for me to figure it out.

When a hand squeezes my ass under my massive shirt, I yelp and jump in surprise.

"Fuck, you scared me." I place a hand on my heart, turning around to face Harry.

He grins in the most adorable way. "So deep in thought, huh?"

He grabs my ass again and pushes me into his hips, kissing my lips. My arms wrap around his shoulders, closing my eyes comfortably while our kiss is embarrassingly eager at this hour of the morning.

I feel a tiny pinch in my left ass cheek, and that's when I laugh against his lips and pull away.

I'm fighting a smile. "You pinched my ass."

He smirks innocently.

When the smell of burnt waffles enters not only my nose but also Harry's, we both turn to the waffle iron which sits forgotten on the counter. Dark smoke and unpleasant smell rise from the device.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," I panic and turn the machine off before I open the lid.

The waffle is fully burned and not at all looking like a delicious breakfast anymore.

"Great."

Harry's genuine laughter fills the air, and it leaves me confused rather than making me smile.

"You are truly amusing and dramatic." He removes the waffle with a fork and throws it into the trash can.

He pecks my lips softly, which soothes me in a weird way.

"I'm upset because I wanted to make breakfast for you." I pout.

"I appreciate that, darling." He kisses me again.

Harry and I mix another dough, which consists of me bringing him the ingredients and him stirring them. His biceps is really popping when he flexes it to stir, and that may have been a reason why I forced him to stir.

Standing next to him watching him allows me to observe all of him. When I take a closer look, I discover how puffy his eyes are and that they're still red from crying all night.

"How are you?" I blurt out and bring a hand up to wipe the delicate skin beneath his eyes.

"Good." He nods shyly.

"I told you it wouldn't change the way I felt about you, and it didn't. I still adore you deeply."

A rosy hint traces his cheeks as he whispers, "I know."

"I cherish that you told me about your past, I know it cost you quite the effort."

He nods again, acting conservative when I'd directly mention vulnerable topics. I let it go now, considering he already knows how much I appreciate him.

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