Red String 2 {h.s}

Chapter 14

It's a lazy Saturday morning, the day after their engagement dinner for Amy and Harry. Both of them had partaken in a few too many glasses of wine leading to matching headaches. Gemma and Michal stayed at their own place last night and Anne had left after breakfast to make the drive home to Holmes Chapel.

Amy is lying on the couch under a fluffy blanket with the fireplace on. She has a book in her hands and music playing lowly in the background when Harry comes downstairs after having a shower. He enjoys seeing her comfortable at this house, making it her home immediately. She had unpacked some of her boxes, and together they had made sure her mark was in every room, just as much as his. It didn't matter that they would be moving soon. He still wanted her to feel at home until then.

"Hey love," he says, lifting up her legs to sit next to her before putting them back on his lap.

"Hey Hazza," she says back, barely thinking about the nickname she picked up from Niall slipping from her lips.

"I think I prefer 'baby'," he responds back, squeezing her thigh.

"Sorry! That Irish rascal has got it stuck in my head. I blame him for feeling less than superb today, too. Does he have a limit or can he just go all night?"

"He eventually gets sleepy, and you'll find him passed out somewhere," Harry reveals. "I think you two have that in common."

"Hey! I have never!"

"That's because I see it in your face before I let it happen. Take you home and tuck you in our bed, safe and sound."

"Really?" Amy asks skeptically.

"Yes, love. You get this dreamy, smiley, look on your face. And then you get really handsy with me, completely inappropriate, and I know it's time to go," he squeezes her calf as he says the last part.

She begins to remove her legs from his lap because of his teasing but he holds them tight, not letting her go anywhere.

"I wasn't complaining, baby. I love your frisky touching. Maybe one of these times you'll stay awake long enough after we get home for me to do something about it."

Harry thinks he is holding Amy's legs firmly enough to stave off any retaliation for his incessant teasing but she surprises him by digging her heel into the top of his thigh making him yelp. She giggles at how high pitched the sound was.

"Just for that, I'm not giving you your Christmas present early anymore," he says, standing up from the couch, rubbing at his thigh.

"What?!"

"Should have thought twice about injuring me," he smiles wickedly as he walks away.

"Baby!" she elongates the '-by' sound at the end, and the whine makes him turn around and fixate in on her pouted bottom lip.

He puts his hands on his hips facing her, trying not to think of all the things she can do with those pouty lips of hers. She doesn't help his resolve when she speaks again.

"I'll be a good girl. I promise. J'adore tes surprises."

"Tu es une bonne fille," Harry responds.

Amy has stood up and sauntered over to him, knowing she needs to ply him a little more with sweet words. She didn't expect him to speak French back to her but now she remembers that he did it once in Paris and told her he had been learning.  She reaches out and grabs the drawstring on his grey sweatpants, playing with it, before looking up at him to speak.

"Mon amour, n'arrête pas de parler français. Continuez."

His tongue slowly darts out of his mouth, hanging over just the left edge as he looks down at her hands still touching the drawstrings. He knows exactly what Amy is doing but he doesn't hate it. In fact, it's one of the things that he loves about her. That she's so quick to want to end any minor squabble. That touch is one of her love languages and she is always keen to show him her love.