Behind the Curls (Harry Styles, One Direction fanfic)

Chapter Four - Pancakes and lots of chaos.

I woke up to find myself tucked in beneath the covers. I rolled over to find that Harry had gone. I sighed slowly; I guess I knew he had to leave. He was busy and we weren't kids anymore. I just wish that for one day, everything could be normal again...

I jumped out of bed and realised that I was still wearing my dress from last night. Slowly everything came back to me as my head started pounding. A massive hangover plus a swollen cheek equals major pain! I unzipped my dress as I threw on some pyjama shorts and an oversized tee shirt. I placed my hair into a messy bun as I trudged downstairs.

A tempting aroma wafted through the air and danced up my nostrils. Someone was in my kitchen - oh my God, I'm being burgled!

I grabbed the nearest kind off threatening object that I could find. Unfortunately, the nearest object was my hair straighteners...and they were pink, so all together I was unarmed against a potential murderer...great!

I held the 'weapon' in my hand as I reached for the kitchen door handle. My fingertips brushed the door handle as I shoved the door open and lunged through the doorway.

"ARGHHH!"

I screamed as Harry fell back in shock. He was standing in an apron, cooking pancakes. My heart pounded as I dropped the straightners in relief.

"Ohmygosh Harry don't scare me like that!"

I cried, overjoyed that he wasn't a murderer and he hadn't abandoned me after all.

"ME scare you! YOU nearly gave me a heart attack!"

I paused for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"I thought you were a murderer or something..."

He shook his head before waving a plate of pancakes in front of me.

"Would you like some?"

I nodded intently as he handed me some on a plate.

"How come you can cook so well?" I asked.

"They're only pancakes!" He said as he sat beside me at the breakfast bar.

"I know but anything you make is successful and anything I make is well..."

"Discusting."

"Oh thanks Harry!"

"It's true though."

I nodded. It used to work out well though because he could cook everything for me. I literally couldn't cook anything!

"It's not my fault." I protested.

"Well who else's fault is it that you can't cook?"

"Erm...Mrs Partridge!" I suggest.

"Yeah, I suppose she was a rubbish teacher..."

I nibbled on my pancake, thinking deeply.

"Harry..." I said smiling and fluttering my eyelashes at him.

"What do you want?" He smirked.

"Will you teach me how to cook?"

"No, no, no, no, no. You'll burn down the kitchen...No!"

I am very persuasive...

"Lesson one, in Harry's kitchen. Em, do not touch any sharp knives...seriously!"

I nodded.

"Lesson two, tidy up as you go along."

I rolled my eyes.