The Me You Can't See (H.S)

24

Haven's POV:

I groan out, stretching my limbs. Taking a deep breath my eyes still shut I'm engulfed with a scent that I know for a fact is not mine.

Lifting my head off the pillow I squint my eyes open looking around confused and I momentarily forget where I am. Then the events of last night come flooding back like a tidal wave and goosebumps rise on my skin from the mere memory of him.

I notice that the space beside me is empty and I find myself hoping he didn't leave in the middle of the night. His scent surrounds me and my worries are put to ease as I notice the imprint of his body pressed into the mattress; he must have gotten up shortly before.

Squishing my face into the pillow when the sunlight starts to bother me, I smash my face into the soft pillow with a groan. I don't want to get up...I'm so fucking comfortable.

Forcing myself to do so I make the bed before walking the small distance to his bathroom, brushing my teeth with a spare toothbrush I found under the sink. I don't have a brush with me so throwing my hair into a bun is the best I can do right now.

Once I leave the room, the soft sound of music flows through the apartment and the smell of bacon wafts through the air. My stomach grumbles and I pick up my pace down the stairs.

Reaching the bottom, I see Harry slightly dancing along to Strange Times by the Black Keys and I laugh under my breath.

With the music blasting and the sizzling of the food, Harry has yet to notice my presence so I take the time to admire him.

He stands with his back to me in nothing but boxers and low-hanging sweatpants that extenuate the v of his hips. It takes everything in me not to drool over him as his back flexes with each move he makes.

As I watch him I can't help but wonder if his words were true. I remembered the dream last night clearly but I also remember his words just as much. The words he said made me melt in place and wonder if I had heard him correctly.

But I also remember it was late, that he had just woken up abruptly from my inability to keep my problems to myself and that can make people say things they don't mean. He could have pitied me, felt sorry for the girl who can't sleep and said what he thought I want to hear at the time; but I hope to God he didn't.

Deciding I've stared at him long enough, I take a seat on the stool attached to the island, clearing my throat.

Harry jumps at the sound and turns around quickly almost dropping the contents of the pan. I laugh at his reaction and let out a sigh of relief when he notices it's just me. "Holy fuck Sunny." he places the pan down back on the stove, then places his hand on his heart dramatically.

"I thought you were going to kill me." he says and I can't help but roll my eyes.

"No sorry. That's not until tomorrow." I play along with his dramatics.

Looking at the nonexistent watch on his wrist he clicks his tongue, "Yeah, you're right. Shit, I must have forgotten." I chuckle and he leans against the counter smirking at me. "Good morning."

I suddenly become shy as if this man didn't just lift me onto this exact counter and kiss the living fuck out of me not 24 hours ago. "Morning." I let out sheepishly.

He turns back around to finish what he started and suddenly I can't stop myself from replaying that moment over and over in my head. I zone out remembering how he grabbed my neck and the heat I felt when he did, or how he kissed me as if I belonged to him and him only, a possessiveness I never knew I wanted.

I belonged to him then and no matter what I belong to him now.

"Sunny." Harry tries to grab my attention.