Adore You Too [H.S]

44 // Build Me Up Buttercup

a/n: hey sexies, how are you all?

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"Harry, can you turn that down?" I ask him as sweetly as possible, his music progressively getting louder as he enters the kitchen. I look away from the pot in front of me briefly as I watch him set the wireless speaker down on top of the counter. I laugh and shake my head at the loud Billy Joel blaring from the speaker, looking back down at the pasta that was nearly finished cooking.

I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist, and I feel Harry's chin rest on top of my shoulder, watching what I was doing. He lets out a sigh and turns his head so now his cheek is pressed against my shoulder, his mouth near the side of my neck.

"Dance with me," he says, his words mumbled as his face was tucked away in the crook of my neck.

I let out a sigh, setting the wooden spoon I was using to stir the pasta down on the counter, turning around to face him. He lifts his head, looking at me hopefully.

"I'm trying to make dinner," I turn him down.

"But it's just pasta." He furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head. "Boiling pasta is like watching paint dry."

"I feel like you're trying to sabotage my meal so you'll win." I take a step back, folding my arms.

"I would never." He gasps in shock, holding his hands up in defense.

The Billy Joel song comes to an end and a familiar tune starts up. And just as it does, a light comes over Harry's face, excitement filling every crevice of his face.

"Please," he begs, tugging on my arm, the song still playing quite loudly in the background.

When I chose to ignore him, attempting to turn around, hoping he'd let it go, he does the exact opposite. He grips my hand tighter and pulls me into his chest before wrapping his arms securely around my waist.

"Why do you build me up, buttercup baby?" He sings along loudly, squeezing me tightly.

"Harry," I say in a quiet tone, but I'm not too sure he could hear me over the music.

"Oh come on," he says, moving me away from the stove, pulling me by the arms. "The song is like two minutes long, the pasta will be fine. Just dance with me."

I rolled my eyes, knowing damn well he was right. I give in, holding his hands back, unlike before. A smile crosses Harry's face.

"I need you," he sings, pointing to me, causing me to let out a quick laugh.

"I need you," I sing with the background vocals, pointing back at him.

Harry chuckles and pulls me even closer to him, giving me a tight hug. Then, he takes a hold of my hands yet again before he spins me, leading me around the room for the remainder of the song. Doing all the guiding with his hands, pulling and pushing me around.

We were both laughing, and genuinely enjoying this moment, feeling overwhelming mounds of joy. The song is a short one, came to an end long before I expected. And we danced for half of the next song, but then I remembered the boiling pot on the stove.

Harry was holding me close, looking down at me, our faces only inches apart. I hated to ruin the moment, but I would hate to ruin the pasta even more. It seems to always be my competitive tendencies getting the best of me.

I quickly stood on my tiptoes and gave Harry's lips a quick peck, which seemed to startle him, before releasing my arms from where they were wrapped around his torso. He shoots me a confused look as I turn around to face the stove.