bleeding hearts [h.s]

eleven

"Harry?"

My eyes fluttered open to a bright light shining that had been coming through the blinds. I rolled over in bed, the white sheets cold against my bare skin. I pressed my face to the pillow breathing in the sweet scent of citrus that always seemed to come with him. I breathed in a deep sigh, stretching my body to embrace the bliss of the morning. My fingertips brushed against a sharp corner of something. I popped my head up from the pillow and found a sheet of folded paper at my fingertips. I unfolded it and read the neat print carefully.

Good morning,

Come outside when you wake up.

- H.

I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling. I sat up in the bed pushed my untamed hair out of my eyes. I peeled away the white duvet, and bumps rose on my legs from the morning air. I dangled my legs over the side of the bed, easing myself gently onto the floor. The wooden floor was cold under my feet.

Harry's cousin had been out of town and needed someone to watch his house. Harry gladly accepted, and extended an invitation, of a much needed vacation, to me. The house was water front on a bay, the mornings had been cold and grey, but the afternoons were warm and delightful. Every room was decorated with inspiration from the beach--framed photos of shells, white and blue accents, wicker chairs, etc. The beach was covered with driftwood and smooth rocks that were great for skipping. There had been mountains in the distance and the evergreen trees towered over everything.

I stood smoothing my button down shirt--actually it had been one of Harry's old dress shirts. Harry had picked me up after work--he looked quite fancy in his suit and tie; all done up for his internship at a law firm. The trip was a little last minute and I had forgotten some pajamas, Harry had been kind enough to loan me something to wear. The shirt smelled like him; citrus and summer.

I dug through my overnight bag looking for something to wear. I unbuttoned Harry's shirt and laid it on the bed, before pulling on a tank top and some jean shorts. I brushed my teeth and washed my face before I walked into the living room. I could smell the sea salt from there. I grabbed a throw blanket and wrapped it tightly around myself. I slipped on a pair of flip-flops before heading out the sliding glass door.

Sand that has been brought up from the beach scraped against the deck with every step I take. The morning was grey and overcast-- a summer marine layer. Harry had stoked a fire in the fire pit --there was a deck built around the pit along with a wooden bench. The flames burned wonderfully, warming me.

I listened to the water on the shore, taking a seat on the bench. I pulled the blanket tighter against me. As much as I wanted to stare to stare at the flames, and watch the embers dance, I couldn't keep my eyes on it too long. Harry came stumbling up the steps of deck with more fire wood in tow a few moments later. His eyes lit up when he saw me, he was wearing shorts and a red flannel that was unbuttoned and open, his cross necklace bounced against his chest as he moved, his feet bare.

"Good morning," he beamed, his green eyes sparkling.

"Morning," I said, pulling my knees to my chest and burying my face into them.

"I have some coffee," he told me. "And some breakfast."

"Thanks."

"I ran to a local spot in town," he continued to tell me as he fed the fire. "My cousin said they have the best beignets of all time. Powdered sugar, chocolate sauce--"

"Isn't that a dessert?" I questioned him, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Live a little," he winked, a dimple developing in his cheek. "Dessert for breakfast is the way to go."