forty nine.

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Harry, as usual, was up before me.

In fact, it was him banging about in the bathroom that woke me up, at half past fucking six.

I had laid there for a while, wondering what on earth he got up to in the shower that required him to make so much noise until I accidentally ended up thinking about us in the shower, together.

I figured that was my cue to get up and considering we had to be at the airport by nine, if not earlier, I should probably get up to pack. I really should've done it last night but it turned out that I had fallen asleep when I'd laid down.

I was blaming Harry for being so warm.

Until he'd woken me so we could get food and then we'd spent the rest of the evening eating a lot of it in bed, whilst we talked about everything that wasn't my family, or New York, or the fact I had a bruised cheekbone.

"That's mi-never mind."

I looked up at Harry curiously as I left the bathroom, dressed and ready for an eight hour flight. I raised an eyebrow at him as he pulled our suitcases past me and towards the door before turning back and grabbing me.

I looked at him wide eyed as his eyes dropped down my body before he pressed his lips roughly to mine and I lent up on my toes to get a better taste of him. One of Harry's hand tangled in the back of hair while the other dropped to my waist and pulled me closer into him.

I ran my tongue teasingly along his lip causing Harry to groan before he parted his mouth, his own tongue licking into my mouth before I got a chance to taste him.

"Tha's enough."

Harry pulled back and I pouted, making him roll his eyes, it was never enough.

"We need to leave." Harry pointed out and I sucked my teeth as I gathered up my duffle bag and pulled on Harry's jacket.

"It's only twenty to eight." I muttered as I dug my hands inside the pockets making Harry roll his eyes.

"Don't be a brat, Buttercup."

I flushed at the new name as it slipped from Harry's lips and rolled my lips together. Harry held my hand as we rode down in the lift in silence, ever since the zoo he'd been holding my hand in public a lot more and I was very okay with it.

I hovered by our cases as Harry checked out, my phone buzzing in my jacket pocket and I pulled it out seeing a message from Ollie and I rolled my eyes as I read it. I knew I shouldn't have told him about coming home sooner.

There was a possibility he was angrier with Harry then I was.

I smiled at Harry absentmindedly as the driver put our cases in the boot and we sat in the back of the car, the cold leather seeping through the jumper and jacket I was wearing.

"Did you like New York?" I asked, almost twenty minutes into the journey, aware of Harry's eyes barely straying from me and I almost asked why.

"Was alright." Harry nodded, "Too busy."

"I knew you'd say that." I laughed, sometimes I had to agree. "But how badly do you wish we could be driven around everywhere at home?"

"You do get driven everywhere at home." Harry looked at me pointedly making me flush and roll my eyes. "But I don't, I like driving."

"You do?"

"Yeh', why's that so hard to believe?"

"It's not that, I just didn't expect it. I don't know, I just don't think I've heard anyone say they enjoy it, it seems stressful." I shrugged.

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