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Happy birthday to my favorite boy. x

~

"Faster, Harry!" Clara groaned as she shifted her thighs against him.

"I can't go any faster, Clara."

She huffed playfully and dragged her foot against the floor to signal him to stop. Harry complied, removing his hands from the wheels and then lifting the makeshift blindfold from over his eyes so he could see again. Clara turned around in his lap and straddled his hips while crossing her arms over her chest.

"You suck at this game," she mumbled. Harry rolled his eyes and cupped her hands in his, lacing their fingers together.

"Maybe we should play a different game. One that doesn't involve me being blindfolded," he said with a small smile. Clara had insisted that he wear the rag over his eyes while she sat in his lap and directed him on where to go. She had the easy job; Harry had to use his arm strength to propel the wheelchair as fast as he could to please her. It will be fun, she had squeaked with a gleam of excitement in her eyes. The only fun part of the game was when she would shift against his côck and cause him to bite the inside of his cheek.

It was the eleventh day of Harry's stay at the hospital and the following day was what he had been so impatient for. He would finally be able to go home.

Clara stayed with him most days. That first day following the night she nearly lost him, she didn't want to be away from Harry for even a minute. She brought a bag with some of her belongings (Jackson was paid to feed the cat), and sat with him in his room, her head on his chest as they laid there in silence. Sometimes he would speak up to tell her that he loved her, just because the words felt so good to say, and other times Clara would whisper things in his ear about how beautiful he was, and that she had never felt anything for anyone that compared to what she felt for him.

Clara even slept there with him. The nurse allowed her to stay in his room during the night, and even though it wasn't the most comfortable for two bodies to squeeze onto that narrow bed, they didn't want to have it any other way. Clara clung to him through the night, her arms wrapped around his torso as nightmares haunted her sleep. Harry could hear her cry to herself at early hours of the morning sometimes. He knew that she was hurting, not only because she had almost lost him, but because she had lost Liam; she had lost him years ago and she didn't even know it. Now he was completely gone- for 15 years.

Harry was hurting, too, but he had mastered the art of hiding behind a blank mask years ago.

"What game should we play then?" Clara asked him with a slanted brow. "We've already played cards with your dad today. It's not even fun anymore since you both always lose." She laughed quietly and wound her arms around his neck. Harry shrugged his shoulders and his hands found their way to her hips, thumbing over the bones.

"We can just cuddle?" he suggested.

Her nose scrunched up like a kitten and she shook her head. "No, we can do that later."

"Kiss?"

"No," she smiled.

"Yes." Harry slithered his hand firmly around the back of her neck and drew her lips towards his puckered ones. Her hands played with the curls at the nape of his neck as their mouths met in a slow, sweet kiss that seemed to erase their surroundings. Harry tasted the bitter coffee from her breakfast on her tongue and he sighed in content; it was hard to imagine that not even two weeks ago, he was almost certain he was never going to taste her again.

Clara was the one to break away a minute later, her cheeks tainted an ethereal shade of pink as she sat up in his lap. Harry exhaled a breathless chuckle and trailed one hand up to her cheek, caressing it as his eyes observed her soft features. He shook his head, disbelieving that this angel was all his.

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