"Harry, love", Helen plumped cushions on the other side of the room while Harry and Eilidh reclined on the couch. "Give me those jeans, will ya love".
Harry gazed up at his girlfriends Mum sleepily, his eyebrows raised and knitting together. "My jeans?", he inquired, quizzically, and Eilidh laughed from where she lay on his chest.
"Yes!", Helen exclaimed, shaking her head. "You have been wearing them for nearly a week! They must be filthy".
"What am I supposed to wear?!", Harry implored while Eilidh laughed even harder, a smirk appearing on Helen's lips.
"I'm sure you can find something of Alex's", she decided, stalking out of the room with a grin.
Harry looked down at Eilidh. "Your Mum just filth-shamed me", he said in wonder, and Eilidh nodded, grinning and snuggling in closer.
They hadn't moved much in six days. On Boxing Day, the snow had came, and made the roads almost unpassable, and leaving them holed up in Eilidh's Mum and Dads house. It was an arrangement that suited them both; a full fridge, a coal fire, lots of sleeping, Christmas television, and of course, each other. Eilidh had barely changed out of her pyjamas, while Harry had been turning his boxers and tshirts inside out in a vague attempt to stay clean. He didn't really care though. Loving how everything he owned now seemed to smell like her. They retired to her room early every night, immediately slipping their clothes off to feel one another's skin, him eventually slipping inside her every time. It was a delicious rhythm that they had fallen into, one that neither of them wished to end.
Helen popped her head back in the living room from the kitchen. "Oh, and let us know what you are doing tomorrow night", she said offhandedly. "Davie and I will be out, so we should sort out keys and stuff". She ducked back out of the room, while Eilidh and Harry looked at each other, bemused.
"Tomorrow night?", Eilidh said, half to herself. "Tomorrow isn't... oh my God", it dawned on her finally. "It's Hogmanay tomorrow!"
Harry burst out laughing. "It's what?!"
Eilidh punched him playfully on the arm, rolling her eyes. "Oh sorry, English boy", she teased. "I meant to say that it's New Years Eve".
Harry pulled his phone out from his skinny jeans with difficulty, swiping it open. "I can't believe how quick this week has went", he remarked, and Eilidh nodded, burying her face in his sweater and inhaling his scent.
"I'll call Paul,and then maybe Niall", Harry said, absent-mindedly, and Eilidh lifted her head from his belly, confused. "They will surely have something in the works".
"In the works for what?", Eilidh asked.
"For New Years", Harry finally lifted his eyes to Eilidhs, surprised to find hers narrowed slightly.
"You want us to go to London for New Years?", Eilidh checked, scrambling to sit up so she could look at him.
Harry stared at her, his thumb still hovering over his phone, unsure how to respond. "Well...yeah", he said dumbly, still trying to work out her dark expression.
Eilidh sighed and sat back. "Harry I get two weeks off a year", she said, folding her arms across her chest. "And I've spent half of it in this house, with you. I barely make it through here any more since I opened the salon", she opened her arms to emphasises her point. "There's so many people I want to see while I'm here. I really don't fancy gallivanting off down to London for days".
Harry stared at her, his eyebrows still raised in surprise. "Babe, I probably get less time off a year than you", he attempted to reason with her, rubbing her leg and chuckling, only to be met with a dark glare, making him drop his hand quickly. "Look, if that's how you feel, we can just go down for a couple of days", he bargained. "I'll have you back up here by Monday, then you can do what you need to do before you have to be back in Glasgow".
Eilidh stared at him. "Emm, no", she said slowly, as if she was addressing someone very stupid, and Harry's hackles rose automatically at her patronising tone. "You wont "have me back", here by Monday", she put exaggerated air-quotes round her words. "Because I'm not going. Why would I go to London for New Year? All my friends and family are here", Eilidh's arms were still crossed and her face was now defiant.
"I have Gemma in London", Harry challenged. "What about her? What about my friends?"
Eilidh snorted. "I'm sure your friends can live without you for one night, Harry", she said petulantly, turning away from him and opening a magazine lying on the couch beside her, not seeing the words printed there.
Harry stared, half shocked and half amused at her arrogance. "Well what if I don't want to stay here?", he asked, wondering how this had spiralled.
"Well, then you go, and I'll stay here", Eilidh snapped back, not lifting her head from what she was reading.
Harry was silent, and dropped his head back on the couch, rubbing his eyes and sighing loudly.
