Haste [h.s.]

~44~

trigger warning: descriptions of blood and graphic content.

i left a little note for u all in the author's note at the bottom of the chapter. i love u all dearly, and thank for your patience <3

(listen to Summer's End by Phoebe Bridgers if u wanna be in the feels)

NO PERSPECTIVE - CHRISTMAS MORNING

It was quiet

Eerily quiet would be a poor phrase to describe the kind of silence surrounding them on their first Christmas together. The first they would share as a pair, and technically speaking, their first as a family.

Her mornings would start out by registering the first sound and making sense of it before making her first bodily stretch or even opening her eyes.

In her imagination she liked to believe the sun would hum through each slit between each curtain panel and roam around the air until it would ring against her eardrum and give her notice of the new day upon them.

It'd become a new form of comfort when said sound would be accompanied by her lover's hand blindly searching for her from the opposite side of the bed in his sleep, or a lazy kiss on her skin when huddled up in each other's embrace she would later ask if he remembered and he would have no recollection of.

As her eyes fought against gravity and blinked open, her eardrums failed to pick up the first buzz in her familiar mornings. Her head wobbled sleepily against the pillow as if to brush off her fussy tiredness and retried to make sense of any sign of life around her, but it never registered.

Her hair brushed against her bare chest when giving their room a quick scan with a pointless squint, noticing how it was still strangely dark out, her first thoughts being that it must be past midnight. Her stomach sank and relieved all at once, unsure of what to make sense of this time of night with the events that expected them today.

Their love filled highs could only last so long before actuality found its way back to them. Although their connection was undeniable, the notion of the rug finally being snagged from under their feet gave her brain a restless shake she couldn't push away.

Her hand dusted over the comfortably chilled bedding, the fabric tickling her the pads of her fingertips until they clung to the vacant slot next to her, confusing her until the bathroom door cracked open and the dim light bleeding through it clicked off.

The corner of her lips tipped up as she watched his hand lazily rustling his untamed bed hair, his own slothful gaze peering down at her shuffling over to take up a fraction of his end of the bed. Opening the blanket he'd tucked into her side, he crawls back in and takes up whatever's left of the mattress, scooting down so his head finds home under the curve of her breast. He hiked her slightly shaky knee over his ribcage to affix himself to her until, God forbid, he would be stripped from her sooner than he'd go for.

"The alarm doesn't go off for another hour." The rasp in his voice made her pulse pick up, rotating her body to face his more as his hand pressed her leg firmly tighter to himself until her soft navel pressed against his chest. He sighed, content with the warmth spreading over him at the arrangement of their bodies. Puckering his lips over the slope right at the end of her exposed chest, he dug his face on the dip of her bump and kissed her skin sweetly. "Rest, mumma."

"Can't." She whispers, staring off in the same direction he'd come from where she could still see specks of residual light sparkling over her vision. Despite the room being void of any noise she usually uses to distract herself, the vibrancy in each speck keeps her mind busy; apart from Harry's soothing touches.