favorite crime [h.s]

forty three

CHAPTER IS FINALLY DONE *APPLAUSE*
thanks for your patience, I really appreciate it!
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I love the smell of vanilla.

I love it when a certain smell can take you back to the place where you'd rather be than where you are right now. When you close your eyes and travel back in time, to that one moment which you never thought would be so special. And maybe you never really noticed the smell, but you remember it too well.

And his scent is all that I can think about. That tiny bit of vanilla which still lingers in the air, and on the pillow I'm laying on. I remember it from yesterday, when we were sitting by the lake.

It's like it never left since last night ⎯ since I put on his hoodie and never took it off. No, I did take it off, right? Of course I did, or I would've overheated during the night. I'm not sure though.

My eyes flicker open, meeting the open window which allows the morning wind to enter the room, the soft curtains tangling in the air. I glance at the empty space beside me before my gaze falls on the dark cloth clinging to my body ⎯ I did not take his hoodie off.

"Noooo," I whine quietly, dragging the word out as I practially tear the clothing from me.

My black underwear comes in view, since I didn't wear anything else for the night. Seriously, why did he allow me to sleep in his hoodie? On the good side, it's not as warm as I thought, the sky is blanketed by clouds and before I know it, it starts drizzling through the window frame, the floor getting slightly wet.

"Man, what the hell," I curse and stumble out of bed. My foot gets caught up in the bedsheet, causing me to almost fall face-forward from the bed. I catch myself in time.

When the door opens, I manage to quickly hide beneath the covers as Harry enters, wearing an amused smile. "Having difficulties in the morning, sunshine?" He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed, flexing his biceps as he does so. It's not helping that he's not wearing a shirt ⎯ what a tease.

"It's raining, can you please close the window?" I murmur. I might as well make him useful for something.

"What am I, your housemaid?" He shakes his head and walks past the bed. Right as I thought he'd close the window, he grabs a shirt from his closet.

"Seriously?" I huff, jokingly glaring at him as he walks past. "Very kind."

"Fuck off, I made breakfast." He leaves and closes the door.

"Fuck you!" I yell, getting a laugh as a response.

I hurry over to the window in only my underwear, shivering a bit as the wind hits my skin. I might reconsider wearing his hoodie today, it keeps me warm and cozy. I close the window myself and then grab his hoodie from the bed, quickly throwing it over my body. I spot my clothes neatly folded on the armchair, a bit flattered that he laid them there, and put my jeans on.

Leaving the bedroom, I catch a glimpse of him in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. Doing that task should not be that attractive ⎯ but it's him, so...

"No beer for breakfast?" I join his side, leaning my elbow against the counter.

He raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement of my presence, and looks at me while he's drinking from the glass.

"I think Niall seems more like the person to drink beer in the morning," he defends.

"I just had Miami in mind, doesn't matter." I brush it off, still glad that he doesn't do that anymore.