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summary: in which; Harry's always loved Valentine's day but it's only when she comes around does he have a reason to celebrate it.
trigger warnings: sexual content, mature themes.
word count: 8.3k
includes: oral (female receiving), written in the third person.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
Harry had been more than excited for the arrival of February fourteenth.
He had an affinity towards the romantic time of the year even though he had never been in a relationship worth celebrating and had no reason to celebrate the holiday. Year after year, he found himself staying in and watching the romantic comedies he frequented on any streaming site available. He would keep to himself and secretly wish he had someone to love on, to watch his favourite films with, declare his love to, gift armfuls of chocolates and pink teddies to, and swing his joint hands with while walking in the streets. He revelled in the affectionate, rose-tinted air around him and desperately attempted to bury the prevailing feeling of jealousy.
That is until he met her, the woman he was certain was the love of his life. Someone he would spend year after year with, love on constantly, and spoil on all days including Valentine's day. It was what had him wishing to spend the entirety of the day with her, unwilling to waste any moment—and consequently gazing at her so sleeping form once the birds began chipping outdoors. He woke her with tender swipes of his palms along her hairline, sweeping stray strands from her pretty face. He traced his fingertips along her temple before travelling down to her cheeks, the pad of his thumb catching on the dream-prompted quirk of her lip. She woke slowly with his affectionate touches and was brought from her fabricated sanctuary when he spoke the following.
"Happy Valentine's day, dove."
She blinked her eyes open at the sound of his voice, attempting to focus on the deep tone despite her hazy mind. The sight before her broke through the film clouding her vision and she found her Harry snuggled in the sleep-warmed sheets beside her. One of his arms was draped over the curve of her waist and his other propped the pillow beneath his head. He lay on the same as hers, his curls fluffed against the pillow case and tickling the side of her cheek. She was grateful for the close proximity when she went to nuzzle into his palm, which had gravitated higher on the height of her cheek and moved to cup the soft skin there.
"G'morning," her words were barely intelligible as they pressed into the palm of Harry's hand. He breathed a soft laugh at her sleep-soaked voice, and smiled softly when she spoke, "Happy Valentine's day."
Her sleep-fuzzed state and the remnants of her dream weren't enough to have her forget the loving holiday, for it was something that both she and her boyfriend had been anticipating since his birthday.
