Spotlight |h.s|

Forty Seven

Aubrey Hart

I open my eyes, light now filling the room to give away that it's morning. I'm laying on my side, Harry's lap beneath me and my legs spread out down the couch. He's sitting up, one of my hands resting on top of his.

I turn so I'm laying on my back, moving slowly in hopes that I don't wake him. He's slumped over to the side, his free hand beneath his cheek to hold up his head with his elbow on the arm of the couch. His cheek is a bit puffed up from the way he's holding it, his face in a pout.

I can't help but look at his left arm, the small circles littering it making me feel sick to my stomach now that I know the story behind them. I now understand why his right arm is mostly free of any ink, but his left is covered. Why was it always his left?

I feel absolutely awful now for ever bringing up his relationship with his father in the past. I had no idea what he went through as a child. I feel like a horrible person for ever thinking it was my place to comment on it. It was so hypocritical of me to be on his ass for judging me before really knowing me since I did the exact same thing.

I know it's in the past at this point, but I still feel horrible. I force my eyes to tear away from the scars, instead watching his sleepy face as he breathes in and out. Part of me was expecting to wake up and realize the last few days have been a dream. Instead, here I am.

Surprisingly, Bailey slept through the night. I wasn't expecting that to happen. I guess it's Harry's magic.

I stay looking at him, his features captivating me. He looks really... soft. I don't know if that makes sense, but he does. His features are all very calm, not withholding any dark undertones like usual. Soft is the only word I can think of to describe it. Right now, he almost looks relaxed. I don't think I've seen him in a completely relaxed state without the help of a joint or other methods of intoxication.

Last time I was laying on him like this, we were high and horny. Now, he's helping me babysit my baby cousins. That's a bit ironic.

I expected him to leave the second he saw the kids, but I'm glad he didn't. As much as I don't like admitting it, I needed help. I wouldn't have been able to do that alone. I was passed out at 8:00 pm like a grandma even with help. I'm used to having Elora here with one kid. Handling two alone would've been the death of me.

His face slowly falls from his palm, making me bring my hand up in an attempt to catch it so he doesn't have to wake up just yet. Still, his eyes squint open. I move my hand from his face and patiently wait for him to actually wake up, him rubbing his eyes with his free hand. He keeps the hand beneath mine in its place, not letting it leave me.

He squints down at me, stretching a little in his place and causing my body resting on him to move a bit with it.

"Hi." His raspy voice speaks out.

"Hi." I reply.

I push his messy hair out of his face, it starting to get a bit long. Just long to the point where curls in his face are becoming a more common occurrence. He used to not have any long enough to do that, but now, a couple in the front reach his eyebrow when they're not styled out of the way.

"What time is it?" He asks after I bring my hand back down.

I drowsily turn my head to look at the clock, not wanting to move from my comfortable position. I then see Asher patiently sitting on the floor staring at us. His presence makes me jump, Harry jumping when I do.

"What?" He looks down at me.

"Asher? How long have you been down here?" I squint so I can see him better due to how bright the light is shining in here. I forgot to close the curtain last night.