a sunday kind of love

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Grace

My eyes open slowly, feeling Harry's big hands carefully caressing the side of my head. Tiredly, I press my bare body closer to his, breathing in his beautiful scent. My eyes close again, humming contently when I feel him hold me closer, the pads of his fingers gently scratching against the back of my scalp.

"Good morning principessa." His voice is gruff, as it always is in the morning. I hum again, not quite ready to completely wake up. Even though, by the way the sunlight is creeping into the room, I could tell it's later than usual.

Last night was a date night and when we got home, we ended up staying up late just sitting in bed talking. And having sex, but that's no surprise.

His lips press against the top of my head as I curl into him more, lightly scratching my nails against his back. I know he loves it when I do that. "Morning, pearl." I mumble into his skin. It comes out muffled, but I know he understood me.

He chuckles, the vibrations in his chest feeling funny against my skin. "No good? Just morning?" he teases into my hair. He brings his leg around, putting all his weight on top of me. I quietly giggle, shifting so my head nuzzles into his neck carefully.

"I'm sleepy..." I whine, pouting my lips against the skin of his neck. He just chuckled again, the weight of him feeling so comforting against myself. I love when he lays on top of me, it's like my own weighted blanket. I always feel so safe like this. "Is it even morning still?" I ask finally.

He shifts on top of me, reaching over to the nightstand to most likely grab one of our phones to check the time. He chuckles again, his head falling down against mine as he holds me close. "One in the afternoon."

I laugh now too, knowing that we almost never sleep in this late. But it's not surprising given the time we went to sleep last night. "So it's lunch time?" I mumble again, still running my nails up and down his back.

"No, we're not missing breakfast. It's Sunday, think of it as brunch." His head dips down to the side of mine, forcing it to come away from his neck. He plants a few kisses to my cheek, a smile plastered to his face, "Will there be mimosas?" I ask, keeping my eyes shut still.

His breathy laugh hits my cheek as he nods, "There will be mimosas. Come on. We have to get up, dove."

With that, he removes his body from mine, sitting up on my lap. His hands hold my hips as I put my arm over my eyes, still not completely ready for the day.

When I hear the click of a camera, that's when I finally look up at him. My eyes narrow toward the curly haired man straddling my lap. He has the polaroid to his eye, unashamed as he takes pictures of my naked body. I quickly flip him off as he laughs, taking one more picture before putting the camera back down on the nightstand with the pictures he took. Those go into the pile from last night.

Finally, I sit up, smiling when Harry puckers his lips out to me. I close the tiny gap between us, pressing my lips against his. I'm unable to stop the smile from crossing my lips. Harry smiles too, kissing me so beautifully.

We pull away and get out of bed. I quickly head to the dresser, taking out one of Harry's shirts from the pile to toss on. I can hear his whines from behind me before he wraps his arms around me, "Don't cover the tits!" he argues, his hands cupping my breasts and holding on.

I laugh, shaking my head, "You covered the butt, I'm covering the tits." He doesn't let go of my tits as he holds my back close to his chest. "I just want to look at your pretty tits, dove."

Still, I open up the shirt, smiling at the stupid little graphic t-shirt. We have a habit of popping into thrift stores around the city and looking for the most ridiculous t-shirts we can. It's become a really fun date night activity and we've acquired quite the collection.

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