Trust [h.s.]

XIV

        I woke the next morning with my face buried in Harry's chest. I stayed still for as long as I could, letting my eyelids close as I inhaled his familiar musky scent. I listened to the sound of his heart, thumping rhythmically within the confinements of its bone cage, slow and steady, soft and faint. I smiled to myself as he pulled me closer to him in his sleep, tightening his grip on my waist, and nudging my body nearer to his.

Eventually, I untangled myself from him and sat up, making my way over to the bay window seat that spread out invintingly beneath the glass pane. I pulled my knees closer to my chest as I gazed out the window, watching the unmoving outside world. There was a gray overcast looming above from the clouds that threatened to spill with crystal snowflakes at any moment. A slight breeze swept through the trees, causing their frail branches to sway in a wave-like motion. I put my hand to the glass, wanting nothing more than to be able to feel the cold air on my skin. I yearned for the freedom to be unimpeded as I was weeks before. It was hard for me to grasp how much had changed in such little time.

Suddenly, Harry shifted in his sleep and released a shaky breath. I heard him roll over onto his back and exhale a soft groan as he was pulled to consciousness. I turned my head to face him with a small smile tugging at my lips.

"Morning." I spoke in a hushed tone.

"You like fine art sitting up there." Harry said in a slow, husky voice. "If I had any artistic ability, I would paint you."

I smiled, a wide goofy smile that evoked a blush to rise upon my cheeks.

"You're so corny." I chuckled, even though I was unadmittedly flattered.

"No, I'm so horny."

"What else is new." I said sarcastically, causing us both to laugh lightly.

"You hungry?" Harry asked, sitting up in bed, then picking his discarded shirt from off the floor.

"Starving."

"What else is new?" Harry used my words against me, and again, we chuckled at our stupidity.

Once downstairs, Harry and I sat side-by-side, chewing on our cereal in a comfortable silence. As I ate, I pondered my situation. I thought of Harry's secret business, and all of the curiosity that it conjured within me. But most of all, I thought of Harry himself. I realized as I sat beside him that though I was extremely familiar with his living habits and mannerisms, I knew little about his background.

"Harry?" I asked suddenly.

"Hm?"

"How old are you?"

He turned to face me. "Twenty."

"Oh." I took another bite of my breakfast. Chewed. Swallowed. Spoke again. "When's your birthday?"

The corner's of Harry's mouth upturned in a charming grin. "What is this, twenty questions?"

I shrugged. "Just wondering."

"It's the first of February."

My eyes widened, my mouth hung agape. "That's two weeks away!" I exclaimed excitedly. Harry chuckled, shaking his head amusedly as I stared at him in bewilderment.

"Ellie, 's alright. I never do much for my birthday, anyway."

"I can bake you something?" I suggested, seeing as my options were limited given my predicament.

"If you want to, yeah." He smiled genuinely at me, seemingly appreciative of my small gesture.

"Good."