Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
"HARRY!" The brunette grinned, looking a bit out of it in doing so, her mind still half asleep. She wound her thin arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes. It's been such a long time since they've last seen each other, and being actually here was extremely different from the phone calls and text messages they'd had. But he was here now, body warm and wonderfully solid against her own. Stella closed her eyes, trying to memorize the feeling of him. He smelled like vanilla, and pine, and Harry.
"Hi," Harry mumbled, deep voice dangerously close to her neck. Even in her state, she could hear the smile in his tone. He had an arm around her waist, a box in his other hand. "I got you some macaroons."
A satisfied hum left her lips, "And now I know why I absolutely adore you."
"Are you saying we're only friends because of my macaroons?" He pulled away with a grin, but his arm remained on her. The moment was cut short when he noticed her subtly wince, he furrowed his eyebrows, frowning, "Okay, I can't control myself anymoreㅡdid you hurt your head, or something?"
Stella cringed. In her excitement, she had forgotten to be careful with the injury she'd acquired a few hours earlier. How he noticed it immediately, considering she barely reacted, she didn't know.
"I'll take that," Colin stepped forward, dragging a suitcase, before grabbing the black box of delicacies from Harry's hands. He continued walking as though he expected everyone to follow him. "We don't have time for this. It's nearly 2 AM and Stella needs all the sleep she can get. Come on people, this is not a drill."
Stella and Harry glanced at each other before following the brunet. The Blake heard the sound of wheels behind her, gaze setting on Joaquin, who was now pulling her abandoned suitcase, a duffell bag in his other grip.
"Oh! You didn't have to do that. I'm sorry," she smiled, moving forward to take the suitcase from him; but he didn't move.
"I've got it, Ms Blake. Please," he nodded towards Colin, who had now disappeared from their sights. Harry was still in the same spot as she'd left him, patiently waiting with his hands tucked in the pocket of his navy hoodie, a soft smile on his lips. His hair was in a loose bun, like he had hastily tied it. He was wearing black sweatpants, she noted, a bit shocked at the choice. It wasn't that seeing him in sweats was new, but he usually wore jeans or trousers when they went out.
"Okay, if you insist. Thank you," she gave him one last smile before jogging over towards the green-eyed man. They walked side-by-side when she caught up, gazes trained on the white marble tiles.
