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summary: in which; being just your friend had been the most challenging task of Harry's life, and he can't take it any longer.
trigger warnings: sexual content, mature themes.
word count: 8.7k
includes: best friend Harry, pillow talk, love confessions, vaginal penetration, protected sex, written in the second person.
✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼ ҉ ✼
A shifting movement beneath the height of your cheek brought your eyes fluttering open, the sleepy limbo you had found yourself in dissipating with the fog that formerly clouded your senses. Confusion momentarily swarmed your mind and it took numerous moments before you were brought back to reality, the comforting presence of your best friend ending what could only be identified as disorientation.
Along with the comforting rub of his thumb on the inside of your wrist, a soft soothing noise was offered from Harry. The man knew of your exhaustion and although he hadn't noticed it prior to starting the romantic comedy that had finished mere moments ago, the way you dazed through it was a particular indicator. His hand travelled from your wrist to reassuringly squeeze your hand, pulling on it gently to bring you closer to his chest.
"Let's go to bed, love." His voice was a gentle coo against the shell of your ear, and the comforting tones had you nuzzling into the crook of his neck, stretching out your back as you attempted to come back to him and the world around you.
"Did I miss the movie again?" you questioned, the words pressed into the skin of his neck. It had you missing the sight of a smile curling on Harry's lips, uninhibited happiness vibrating from him. There was nothing he loved more than these nights with you, where you begged him to watch a film you had heard about only to snuggle into his side and sleep your fatigue away. He never had the heart to stop the film or wake you from what always appeared to be a peaceful slumber. "I really wanted to watch this one."
"I know, 'm sorry," Harry smiled at the pout he felt against his throat, but felt the need to see you when he spoke. Therefore, he brought his hand to rest on the curve of your waist and utilized his hold to pull your face from his neck. "Buy y'looked so sleepy, love, I couldn't wake you."
"That's okay, I guess."
You could feel Harry's gaze warming the side of your face when you moved to brush stray strands of hair away from your cheeks, despite the silence that suddenly filled the room. It had you looking over at him, unsure as to what had prompted the odd behaviour. His hands were laid across his stomach, his palm pressed against the lower end of where you knew his butterfly tattoo to be. His eyes were softened as they searched your features, his distracted state calling to you. You had noticed similar acts earlier in the evening but with how all you could previously think of was sleep, you figured that now was finally the time to inquire about it.
