Law and Order- complete

XIII

technically this is two chapters in one, so enjoyyyyy. I apologize for the spelling errors, I've typed this on my new laptop and am not too fond of the keyboard. Hopefully, it'll grow on me!

There's a large, tanned color blanket sprawled out on the floor, and the light switch Harry had turned on brought life to the patio string lights that surrounded the blanket. On the blanket, there was a platter of multiple foods that I'd never seen before, sitting on white plates atop soft flower petals. My jaw had gone slack as I took in the view in front of me, it looked like something from a movie.

Just as I finally grasp the words to speak, loud music begins to blast above us, making me flinch as Harry hisses under his breath, "Shit, sorry," I turn to him, my eyes falling to the phone he holds in his hand as he fiddles with it, making the volume go down.

I lift my eyes above us, trying to find a speaker, but with no luck. A melodic piano played and I focused on it, trying to see if I recognized the song, only to realize I didn't; because it was in french.

My eyes widen in realization and I snap my head to Harry, feeling my chest beat rapidly against my rib cage as I look back and forth between him, and the blanket on the floor with all the food. It's when I notice the two wine bottles and glasses as well as a few aged books. I begin to walk toward it, and Harry follows slowly behind me.

I squat down once I'm on the blanket, angling my head to the side as I take in the bowls and plates. There are about five. One of them is a soup with some sort of orange paste and healthy greens tossed around, another being salmon, and one looking like a white grilled cheese with meat inside. There is fruit in a little basket, and I can't help but reach in and grab a grape, popping it into my mouth. A stack of fresh plates is next to the dishes, and to the right, a small black, portable grill with a lid on it.

"That," Harry walks around me and sits opposite of me, his finger pointing to the grilled cheese melt, "is Croque monsieur,". And this, the salmon, "Is salmon en papillote,"

"French foods," I swallow, my voice barely coming above a whisper.

He nods, "Mhm, and this is Bouillabaisse, it's cold now, I don't know why I made it. I thought we'd be here earlier." He clears his throat, "I had to come here a few hours ago and make it, there's a kitchen below us that I worked in and I swear it hadn't been used in years. To be honest, I don't remember how much of this tasted because it's been so long since- are you laughing at me?"

My giggle grows louder and I remove my fist from my mouth, my grin spreading even wider, "I ju- you did this? You cooked this and set this up?" I motion to the picnic-like scenery.

"Is that hard to believe?"

"I mean, kind of? I can't picture you doing any of this," I say truthfully.

"You don't like it?"

"I didn't say I don't like it, Harry. I love it. It means a lot that you'd do it for me, is all." A sigh leaves Harry's lips at my words, followed by him adjusting himself on the blanket so that he was crissed cross across from me and clearing his throat.

"So, these are some wine bottles from France. We're actually not going to drink these considering the hour ride home. And this-" He picks up the books and skims through them for a few moments before handing them to me. I run my fingers over the fragile, brown covers as he speaks. "These are my favorite books written by French authors. I know I said I learned while in Chamonix but a lot of it really came from reading. Since you were thinking about learning I figured I'd give them to you." He shrugs, running a hand through his hair.