[Neither of them promised forever, yet it hurt all the same.]
River Hamilton cannot afford to fall for just anyone. To continue the legacy of her family the only way she can, she must eventually marry someone she may not want to spend the rest of he...
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R.HAMILTON
The rays of sun greeted River in the morning, warm and bright—and incredibly uncomfortable. Eyelids on fire, she twisted in bed, and turned her back to the light in hopes of finding some shade to rest her eyes. Such a morning only seemed dreamy on the big screen or between the lines of freshly pressed novels whereas real life had more roughness to it, a sense of breach of privacy.
Twenty-nine didn't seem to start off in River's favour but Harry improved the morning without any intent. King size beds have never felt larger, and more spacious than they appeared right then with Harry practically on the other side of the mattress. Arm covered in the imprints of the duvet, River barely reached Harry's exposed back, and her eyes caught his necklace as it slid back down the nape of his neck. She scooted closer to him, and twisted the chain around.
River shuddered at the sudden gust of wind as she leaned slightly over him, balanced on her left elbow, then Harry turned on his back, and their eyes met for the first time in the morning. A smile brightened his face, warmer than the sun against River's back, more beautiful than the view from her balcony. Unable to keep herself in check, she leaned down, and kissed him and melted against the softness of his lips, the smell of summer on his skin, and fused through his soft hair.
"Good morning, birthday girl," he mumbled between her lips, his voice a rumble of darkness from lack of use. Harry pulled her right leg over his waist, and she sat on top of him with the duvet hiding her other leg. It made her chuckle, and she leaned against his chest, face hidden in his neck, while Harry continued to run his hands up and down her thighs. "How did you—"
A knock on the door stopped Harry midsentence but he didn't seem bothered by the sound. Before River had the chance to say anything she was held back by Harry's hand on her mouth, a finger pressed to his own lips to keep her silent. Curiously, she raised her eyebrows but he simply kept his eyes on hers.
Silence stretched thin as Harry ensured they were alone again. His hand caressed her cheek gently before it fell back to its rightful position on her thigh, squeezing the flesh, and awakening the butterflies in her stomach.
"Who was it?" she whispered, afraid of giving away their presence even though the person must've left already. Amusement flickered in his eyes, the green lighter than she'd seen it before.
"Probably the same person who knocked five times already," he responded. Five? River nearly fell off the bed.
"Harry, what time is it?" she asked already in motion to check for herself. Harry's phone laid on the bed beside them, screen facing the ceiling.
Confusion laced through his voice as he asked, "Harry?"
"Eleven-twenty?" she practically flew from her position and forgot that her left leg remained hidden beneath the duvet. It was that minor mistake that landed her on her right side, and on the floor with a scream that most certainly gave away their location.
