Interlude [h.s]

ninety-one

Alouette opens her eyes just in time to see Harry step out of the bathroom, naked. Her eyebrows raise. "It's definitely too early for this."

He stops drying with hair approximately with a towel and turns to look at her. "You're awake."

She frees her hand from under the pillow and waves at him. "Hi."

He throws the towel on the bed and walks in the closet. Alouette closes her eyes and lets out a sigh, trying to find the will to get off the bed, but she fell asleep so late and her limbs don't want to move. She should've known better than to think she could get a full night of sleep in the apartments of a man that can go through his day-to-day with little more than a couple of hours of rest.

She picks up Harry's dress shirt and puts it on, following him into the wardrobe. By the time she joins him, he's already put on a pair of boxers. She comes up behind him and traces a line up his spine with her finger. A light shudder comes over him, and she stands on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw from behind, her hands on his shoulders. "Think you can walk around like that without me doing anything about it?" she whispers in his ear. "Why don't you come back to bed so I can show you just how much I like it?"

He turns his head, a faint smile curving his lips. "I fear there's no time for that."

"We can make time."

"I have a meeting with the head of my personal guard at eight, one with Mr. Lawson's replacement at nine thirty, another with the lower floors at eleven, another with an associate at one forty-five, and one with the team at four. Not even I can make miracles."

Alouette lets go of his shoulders. "Damn, you actually are busy. I can tie you to the bed and tell everyone you're indisposed if you want."

Harry chuckles. "Another time."

She glances around. It's the first time she's stepped into his walk-in closet, and the strong black-and-white contrast is making her head spin. "So this is your infamous wardrobe," she comments, taking a step forward and grazing the suits hanging neatly next to each other. "It's better than I thought." She turns to look at Harry—he's staring at her attentively. A mischievous smile turns up the corners of her lips, and she walks around him. "Let's see."

Harry follows her with his eyes until she's behind him, and when she comes up on his other side, she finds his green gaze again. She nears the suits again and goes through them carefully, taking note of the different types of buttons, different shades of black, slightly different frames. She smiles when her eyes set on a suit she recognises, and she moves on. She picks a white dress shirt and a tie to match the suit, and then turns to look at Harry, holding up her prizes.

"There."

An amused glance appears on Harry's face when he recognises the suit. "Interesting choice." He takes it and puts it on the empty hanger beside him.

Alouette laughs and unbuttons the shirt. She'd thought it was plain before picking it up, but now she recognises the feel of the expensive fabric between her fingers, and she takes extra care not to ruin it by mistake. She doesn't even dare to wonder at how expensive it is. She has a feeling that if she knew, she'd put it down and never touch it again.

Once it's open, she sees Harry's initials embroidered on the inside of the collar, and she shakes her head in brief shock. Handmade. She steps closer to him and holds it open for him to put on, then walks in front of him to button it up. Her eyes meet his when she reaches the top, and her cheeks get warmer when she remembers the only other time she helped him get dressed at the Palace. Back then, she'd still thought she could carry out her plans. Now it makes her want to laugh.