Wish Upon A Star [H.S]

9

The bed is all too good at its seduction, with sheets that entangle her limbs, a pillow that might as well be a cloud, and the warm body that guards her back possessively. But it's only a few more solemn minutes of enjoying the comfortable silence until a disturbance drags her out of dreamland. Her hand feels around for the phone vibrating on the side table. She squints her eyes and reads her assistant's name that flashes on the screen.

"Hello?" her greeting is drawn out by a long yawn that reaches octaves to put an opera singer to shame.

"About time you picked up! Do you not know how long I've been trying to call you?"

"Isn't it a bit early to be calling?" she glances at the clock, 8:09 am, "It's like three in the morning over there." Harry stirs next to her, his arm wraps around her figure and pulls her against his torso. He snuggles his face into the slope of her neck, his hot breath caressing the vulnerable flesh.

"Actually, it's 8:09, oh wait, now it's 8:10! Anyway, I need you to pick me up."

"I don't think I follow," she replies.

"I just landed in Heathrow, so hurry up because airplane food does not satisfy. Oh, and I also need a place to stay, so thanks in advance!" Before she can ask any more questions, he's saying his goodbyes and ending the call. The screen goes black, and she's met with a reflection of her face staring back at her.

Earnest kisses press across her shoulder blade, the feeling of his morning stubble tickles her bare skin. She turns in his hold and lazily connects their mouths, her fingers lightly tugging at the astray locks of his messy hair as his own outline down her soft curves.

"Morning, my love," he rasps, smacking her lips again. He shuffles on top of her and presses more kisses along her jaw and down under her chin. His movements are setting themselves up to become more sensual and it is only a matter of time until they're joined together for the nth time in five days.

"Wait, we need to-" but she stops when he begins teasing the spot below her ear, the stubble on his upper lip grazing over her lobe. What was she meant to do again? The memory is fuzzy for a couple of moments, but the orders––and who would have thought that her assistant would be giving her orders––are soon brought to the forefront of her mind. "We've got to go the airport."

He looks at her with furrowed brows and panic begins to set in as she feels his muscles begin to tense over her. "I thought you weren't leaving for four more days?" Y/n shakes her head and gives him a reassuring kiss.

"My assistant apparently took some unauthorized vacation time, and now he's here," she slips out from under him, and sits up to place her feet on the fluffy carpet. But he's got his arms locked around her waist. "Harry, c'mon. I'm sure you've gotten enough," she teases. She glances over her shoulder to see him shaking his head like a stubborn child.

"Can never get enough of you, love," he says cheekily.

***

William knew there was something off about the situation, but never did he expect this. He's been parked across the street from Harry's apartment complex since the crack of dawn, waiting for him to come out. It's definitely plausible that Y/n is staying with him. When a black Range Rover comes into view, he eyes the architect's face in the driver's seat, with Y/n sitting beside him. He ducks down until they've driven past him, then asks his driver to follow the car.

The rest of the windows are tinted black, blocking his view of them. They drive miles and miles, until the airport pops up in the distance. Maybe she's booked herself an earlier flight?

"Just stay here," he orders the driver. He watches as Harry backs into a spot and turns off the ignition. Now he's got a clear view of the two through the windshield. She's laughing at something, but he's never been skilled at reading lips. Why are they just sitting there? It looks like they're just talking, and for a quick moment he thinks he's lost all sensibility.