Dahlia's whole life is flipped upside down when her eccentric aunt enrolls her in a prestigious university in England. She is forced to make friends with a rather eclectic group of people and adapt to her new lifestyle all while trying to find the a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The combination of feeling something soft and warm pressed against my right cheekbone and a patting on my shoulder was what roused me from sleep on Wednesday, April 17th- the day Harry and I were set to leave for Paris.
Opening my eyes, I squinted, adjusting to the change in brightness- the room was dim, but the lighting was contrastingly harsh when compared to the opaque black I'd just egressed from. As I turned my head to the right so that I was looking upwards, the touch on my cheek was relinquished, and I found myself looking over my shoulder at Harry, who was peering down at me- he was patting my right shoulder and I deduced that he'd just pulled away from kissing my cheek, both of the things that caused me to wake up being accounted for.
"Good morning," he said quietly, his voice a little raspy like he hadn't spoken much- or at all- so far that morning, steadying his hand because he'd successfully woken me up and keeping it stationary on my shoulder while stroking his thumb over the outermost part of my collarbone.
I smiled up at him, still groggy, but aware enough to take a good look at him, switching my position so that I rolled onto my back instead of laying on my left side, getting a better vantage point while eliminating the awkward neck twist I was doing to gaze up at him. His hair was shiny and damp, extra curly as strands hung down, framing his face, and his cheeks were slightly flushed, meaning he'd already taken his shower like he said he would the night before.
As I studied him, I was reminded of a bizarre dream I had- one that must've been recent because I could actually remember part of it. "I had the strangest dream about you and... a duck."
He furrowed his eyebrows, examining me intently, obviously making a valiant effort to understand why I would respond to his 'good morning' with that. Then, his expression shifted, his eyebrows shooting upwards with an epiphany, as if an imaginative lightbulb turned on above his head.
"That's probably because of my alarm. My alarm sound is a duck quacking, and it went off about a half hour ago when I woke up to take a shower," he theorized, actually finding some sensical reason for why I dreamt of him and the duck, and hardly questioning why that was the first thing I said to him.
Satisfied with his reasoning- and adding his choice of alarm sound to my list of reasons why I was so charmed by him- I hummed shortly, more awareness and consciousness entering my mind as I blinked my eyes a few times, trying to further drag myself out of sleep. Fully awake and less sleep-addled, I became more cognizant of the upcoming events of the day, thinking about what I'd need to do before leaving, and how much time I'd need to accomplish it. "What time is it?"
A drop of water dripped from Harry's hair, landing in the center of my forehead, the sudden spot of cold causing me to flinch slightly.
"Oh, sorry," he apologized swiping his thumb over the droplet to clear it away. "And, it's around six."
I sat up sluggishly, like sleep had glued me to the bed, pressing my hands flat on the mattress for leverage as Harry straightened up as well, no longer needing to hover over me.
