.Perfect Fantasy. |H.S.|

Chapter 30. No Distance.

.Harry.

Woke up to the sound of the constant pouring rain, a shaft of daylight cutting across the room, interrupting some stupid dream and the fact that I'd been sleeping wonderfully, now being forced to squint my way out of sleep. I rolled over onto my side, ready to indulge into a delicious, languid stretch; when I felt a body pressed closely against me.
I wasn't alone in the bed, but that wasn't the surprise. What surprised me was the way the whole bed was empty and she was laying so close to me I barely had space to breathe. I turned my head to the other side and back; looking at her, and all around us.

The pillows and covers had been thrown to the floor but Nat was in the middle of everything, curled on her side facing the doorway.
Light poured through the slats of the blinds, across her closed eyes, safe with the slow pattern of whatever she was dreaming, cheeks pale and lips partially open. Her hand was sprawled away from her body and that ugly shirt that my mother gave her was ridden up to the point where she was almost showing me what was underneath. This close, it was easy to catch a whiff of her perfume, something light and airy that made me think of some type of sweet spice.

I found myself smiling as I stood up carefully, leaving her side after taking my phone off the bedside table, padding slowly and silently around the foot of the bed, praying nothing creaked around me. But she was still asleep.
I couldn't help but notice how different she looked when her mind wasn't winding up for new information, or overworking herself into her theories and facts.

I kept my full attention on her as I backed up silently and slowly towards the bathroom door, and then the kitchen.

For the first time in a long time, I wasn't feeling up for my usual morning walk. I ended up spending most of the morning texting the detective on the last update of the case, which was none apparently, he was still deep-searching for any traces of that woman, who'd vanished from thin air again. Not that it was a breakthrough for me.

I shook my head helplessly, just settling down for starting breakfast and coffee, on my own, until there was a great deal of noise just by the stairs and what sounded like footsteps on the floor before the kitchen door finally opened. Natalia was folding my sweater sleeve almost to her elbow, a pair of pants now on her legs and her hair had an unfortunate appearance of being brushed only from one side.

She was looking a little nervous but happy, her wide brown eyes shining as she walked to where I was standing, just casually filling the last plate of fried tomatoes.

"Hi, Harry." Her gaze slid to the plate of steamy vegetables and then to my own cup of coffee, still resting against the counter.

"Morning, Nat."

"Do you always talk to yourself when you cook?" She asked me with a half-smile, I glanced up from the frying pan to where she stood now near the refrigerator. Damn.

"Can't really uhm, help it." I nodded towards the stove, a small pout on my lips at the thought of being caught indeed, talking to myself.

"It's kinda cute." Nodding, she turned away, but not before glancing curiously at the table to see all of my early plans, and boredom, coming to a motion. The table had set out plates of the healthiest breakfast I could possibly make and a batch of some fancy cake with rosewater filling and the cutest cupcakes I could find in the city.

She raised her eyebrows and licked her lips, before whistling lightly in what appeared to be approval, "Harry's gone domestic."

"Heey—What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest.

"Didn't take you for a person to cook." Nat stood still, eyes darting back and forth between me and the food. Her lips twitched, and everything was wonderful. I'd rather take that than seeing her look so threatened and scared. "You know, when I met you I thought maybe you were the type to have tons of maids and cooks.... Maybe a butler?"