The rose and the sunflower.
The girl with the golden eyes and the boy with a golden heart.
The girl that believed love was just a fairytale and the boy that believed fairytales are just stories waiting to come true.
'I used to think love was a point...
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———
I'm starting to see Jacques' appeal in me no longer being friends with Harry due to the fact that I have woken up in Harry's actual bed. I have no clue where Harry himself is but I'm still fully clothed - not that that is really my biggest concern right now.
No, my biggest concern is the five missed calls I have from Jacques. He called me all around six in the morning, it is now eight thirty-three.
I get out of bed almost immediately and walk into the adjoining bathroom where I splash water on my face to wake myself up. Then I start digging around Harry's cabinet in search of a toothbrush because the taste of stale vodka is really not pleasant.
"What did I get myself into?" I ask my reflection before I walk out of the room entirely and rush downstairs in search of my friend.
Harry's house is weirdly quiet which means he's either asleep somewhere else or not here at all. Just as I make it to his living room I halt in my tracks. He slept on the couch. Wait a minute— How the fuck did I end up at Harry's place and by extension his bed?
I walk over to the couch and grab a cushion, then hit Harry repeatedly until he wakes up in a jump and curses. "Fucking hell, Granger." He mumbles then grabs the cushion. "Cut it out."
Harry starts sitting up and rubs his eyes so I cut to the chase. "What the fuck am I doing here?" He freezes.
"You were half asleep and told me to let you stay. You don't remember?" His voice comes out so deep and so raspy, I almost forgot what it was like in the mornings.
"Well if I was half asleep I wouldn't, would I?" I don't know why I feel so angry this morning.
Harry groans. "Can we please have this conversation after you drink coffee?"
"What the fuck does that mean?" For this early on a Sunday morning, I'm certainly cussing a lot.
"It means I'm hungover and you need coffee to function properly." Harry answers and I tilt my head in challenge. "Don't give me that look. Unless you want us to have a screaming match, ask me all the questions you want after you consume caffeine."
Harry doesn't allow me to respond because he gets up and starts walking in the direction of his bedroom. I follow him.
"You slept on the couch?" I ask.
"I woke up on— Wait let me correct that: You woke me up on the couch, no?" He doesn't look back at me once as he speaks and jogs up the stairs.
"You were there the entire night?"
"Yes."
"Why was I in your bed?"
Harry turns around before he enters his room. "Didn't we just agree to you asking me questions after coffee?"
I roll my eyes but don't say anything. Harry goes into his room and then into the bathroom. I stand by the door and watch him brush his teeth.
