Until Next Time | HS

35.

I was faking the rush of packing bags in my room, throwing random clothes into the bag, In case he asked, ‘why isn't your bag packed if you're leaving in a few hours?’ I have to be prepared for the proof. From what I know, I think he's all packed since he's been awake from 7 in the morning. And yet, I'm still half asleep, trying to adjust to the surroundings at 9:30 in the morning.

"Luna?" I tossed my jeans like it was a basketball into the open bag on my bed before peeking out of the closet to make sure if he called me or not. "Luna, come here."

"Yup, he did." I nod to myself and move out from behind the doors, scampering away towards the door. I dramatically slide into the living room with my socks on but stumble and take support of the stool to steady myself. "Hi!"

I cheerily greet and look up at Harry behind the counter with his apron on and a spatula in his hand with a confused expression on his face, probably because of my childish behaviour. "What are you doing?"

I rest my elbows on the stool and rest my head face on my palms. "Greeting you. Hello!"

I notice the corner of his twitching up in a smile but he shakes his head and stirs whatever is in that pan. "By the way, I made my secret brussels sprouts recipe to show my mum that I can cook very well," he looks at me. "So, I made it extra. You said you're leaving in the afternoon so, you can have this for lunch. If you want, of course."

Aw, he made me lunch.

"Of course, I'll have it." I smile gratefully. I close my eyes and inhale the aroma of the cooked food. "Hm, It smells amazing what's the name of your secret recipe?"

"Uh,"  he turns off the stove. "I haven't named it yet, tell me if you can."

I crane my neck as he serves the food into the steel container. It was perfectly roasted, golden brown with a green base of sprouts. My mouth starts to water as I see him garnish the container with a single basil leaf on top. I take a whiff of its aroma and a smile forms on my face.

"It looks so good." I smile at his proud face. "You know what, I got the name."

"What is it?" he quirks an eyebrow while taking off the apron. "Don't say something stu-"

"Brussels Styles."

He pauses and looks at me. "What?"

"Or, Brussels Spryles!" I snap my finger. "Hm, that sounds good." I raised my hands and made them look like I was reading a banner. "Brussels Spryles: the golds of the green."

Harry was speechless and I was smirking.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"A combination of Sprouts and Styles which forms Spryles; then the golden roast of the sprouts on the green base, the golds of the green!"

After my explanation, I patiently wait for Harry's reaction with my brows raised and a small smirk on my face. But then my smirk turns into a wide grin when he bursts out laughing. I feel the butterflies that were taking a rest, moving around my tummy with full force when he turns and pinches the bridge of his nose while still bursting into fits of giggles.

I made him laugh.

"That's so stupid!" Harry turns to face me with a large smile and presses his palms on the counter. "I love it!"

"You did?" I ask softly and he nods. "I'm glad. You know, create more dishes like this and we'll publish a cookbook named Styles with the Stove and I'll be credited for the extraordinary names of the dishes."

Harry laughs more and throws his head back with his hand on his tummy, making my jaw hurt from the wide grin. "Y-you're something else." he calms down slowly and looks at me. "Oh God," he pants. "I don't think we'll sell many copies of it."