Adore [H.S.]

34

R U Mine? - Arctic Monkeys

ISABELLA

March. It was finally March. The tree's were starting to slowly grow back it's leaves and the cold winter air was beginning to warm up (slightly). But most of all, the best part of the whole damn month, is that it's the month Harry was born. It's also been three weeks since Harry and I have decided to try this whole dating thing. I would be lying if I said it wasn't the best three weeks in my life.

Tomorrow, was Harry's birthday. All day I have been racking my mind with something I could do for him. What we could do to celebrate his twenty-third year of life. To celebrate the old man that he is. (Even though, we're the same age. I still tease him. My birthday is in the end of the year after all). That was besides the point. The point of this all, is that tomorrow was Harry's twenty-third birthday and I am stuck in my bedroom, with my hands in my hair, pulling it hard in thought, trying to decide what to do for him.

I am the worst non-girlfriend but pretty much his girlfriend-girlfriend ever.

My eyes stare at the opened Safari tab. A blank page on google, ready for a search to happen. Birthday, birthday, birthday. My mind began to think about all the potential places we could go and gifts I could give.

What did Harry like? He was a simple man. He liked to read, he liked to smoke, he liked to have sex, and for some God-only-knows reason he likes me. You could dress up as a sexy librarian with a cigarette in your mouth, in his bedroom, and give him the best damn sex he's ever had. Oh subconscious, you've always been a classy broad haven't you.

My fingers touch the keyboard as I begin to type local bistros-London into the search bar. There had to be a place that would suit Harry and his tastes.

For the next forty-five minutes, I begin the tedious task of restaurant searching. By the time I finally found a place that deemed suitable enough for a twenty-third birthday dinner, it was nine at night.

I pick up my phone from my bedside table and click on his name. After a few rings, Harry's deep voice sounds through the small device. "Hey baby," his soothing voice brings a chill of goosebumps over my skin. It was almost alarming what a simple pet name could do to me. "It's kinda late, isn't it?" He chuckles on the other line.

"Yeah, but I wanted to talk to you before I went to bed."

A low chuckle comes from his end of the line. It's not a mocking sound but playfully amused. "Miss me already, love? It's only been a few hours."

"Still too long." I admit.

"I miss you too." He admits back. God, this man was going to be the death of me. "What're you up to?"

"Actually, I've been planning tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" He asks me, his words raising at the end in curiosity. "What's tomorrow?"

A small sigh comes from my lips, "Your birthday, silly."

"Ah, right. That. We're not doing anything." Harry didn't seem too thrilled about the idea of a birthday dinner. In fact, he didn't seem to thrilled about a birthday at all. When he had told me that his birthday was coming up, he had been nonchalant about it. I almost had to use my power of womanly persuasion to convince him to let me do something for him. Clearly, my persuasion wasn't as persuasive as I thought.

"Yes we are. I already made reservations."

He groans on the other line. "Baby, please. No dinner, no party. I don't want to do anything. It's just another fucking day."

"Nobody else will be there. Just us, I promise."

The line is silent for a few moments. The sound of his steady breathing being the only thing that could be heard from him. I sit on my bed quiet while my fingers playing with the loose thread of my pajama pants. His breathing picks up, an indication that he is about to speak. "Fine." He finally says.