antidote | h.s.

39 - have yourself a merry little christmas

ashton mackenzie

"Well, hello, my beautiful girl."

Just his voice gives me butterflies.

"Hi, Harry. How are you?"

"Much better now." He sighs, and I hear the ruffling of what sounds like a bed on the other end of the phone. "How's it going back there? Miss me yet?"

"Obviously." I move from my desk to my bed to lie down. My childhood bedroom looks the same way it did when I left for college three years ago, and every time I come back, it's like a slap in the face with high school trauma. A very good time. "Had to stop myself from calling you three times earlier today."

"You should have," he doesn't hesitate, and it has me blushing. "I miss you like crazy."

"I wasn't sure of the time difference, so I googled it to make sure you would be awake when I called." I look over at the time on my open laptop, doing the math in my head once again just to be sure.

"Well, jetlag is killing me, so I've been up since four this morning."

"So I waited up until one-thirty for nothing?" I joke, and he laughs too.

"Miss Mackenzie, you stayed up late for me? " His tone is humorous but also surprised.

I scoff out a laugh. "Of course I did."

"So that means it's Christmas day for you too, huh?" He sounds excited.

"Yeah, I guess it is." I look over to my laptop screen one more time and see the date 'December 25th'. "Merry Christmas, Harry."

"Merry Christmas, my love."

He's been throwing that pet name in every once in a while, and it always makes my heart stop. That's the effect that word always has on me. I have to force myself not to get my hopes up. British people call everyone 'love,' so he doesn't mean it like that, and I know that. It's just the sound of it coming out of his mouth and directed at me. It has my insides fluttering.

When I don't respond, he continues, "why are we not facetiming right now? I want to see you."

Where I would normally hesitate, I don't. It's Harry. I move the phone from my ear and click to change the call to a facetime. Within seconds, his face is popping onto my screen, bright and smiling and warming.

"There's my little grizzly bear--"

"Harry! Stop calling me that!" I laugh through my scolding, which makes it a whole lot less effective.

"Sorry, you're right. It's a bit lengthy. Should I change it to Grizz? Grizzly? Little Grizz? Little bear?" His smirk doesn't go away, and I find it hard to continue to glare at him through the phone when he's so fucking cute.

"No. None of them," I fight a smile, and he sees instantly.

"You love it."

Yeah, because I love you.

I roll my eyes instead of confessing my undying love. "Yeah, definitely."

He laughs at my sarcasm, and I take the time to really look at him. He looks tired, which makes sense because he said he was jetlagged, but he somehow still looks flawless. I don't know how he does it. He has on a white t-shirt and looks to be sitting up in his bed, his curls tied back behind his head with a few pieces falling out in front.

He's absolutely stunning, and for what?

Unfair.

But I've been trying to work on being more open when I think those things. He makes me feel so wanted and beautiful and amazing all the time, and I should be able to repay that.