prom date | wroetoshaw

My Lils

As my phone displayed the time 00:00, I smiled to myself. It was officially February 11th, which meant that it was now my twenty fourth birthday.

I looked over towards my kitchen, where Harry stood in a loose top and tracksuit bottoms, leaning against the countertop with a drink in hand.

"Happy birthday," he said with a grin, and this year he was the first to do so.

"Thank you," I said warmly, noticing multiple texts coming through from various people, but ignoring it for the moment, walking over to him. He put the drink down on the kitchen side, opening his arms for me, allowing me to be hugged.

"Finally twenty four, took you long enough," he said sarcastically, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

"Some of us just like to savour our younger years...you're going to be halfway to fifty this year," I say, knowing that the comment would likely throw him into some sort of midlife crisis.

"Now why did you have to tell me that?!" He asked, faking being panicked, but he wasn't able to keep it up for long, breaking into another smile halfway through.

"Sorry, sorry. If it makes you feel better so will I next year."

We share some more laughs for a while longer, but then he changes the mood, pressing multiple kisses onto my forehead. "I made you a cake," he whispers, and I look up at him in shock.

"You made me a what?" I ask, my words becoming a bit choked, because no one had made me a cake on my birthday since I'd lived in Guernsey with my Nan.

"A cake. A chocolate one, and don't worry, I added your Nan's secret ingredient," he says, and each word he says makes me feel light on my feet.

"Well, I'll have to be the judge of that," I remind him, but when he turns round, he presents what he's been hiding all this time. Sure enough, there it was. A two tier chocolate cake, with icing in between the two sponges and on the outside, and on the top in shaky writing were the words 'Happy Birthday My Lils', accompanied by several candles littered on the top of the cake.

"My Lils, huh?" I ask, still with his arm tightly wrapped around my waist, not letting go anytime soon. And I didn't want him to.

"Well, yeah, I - uh, yeah," he stuttered, and he almost sounded nervous. "Sorry, I should've checked if -"

"I love it, thank you," I interrupt him, not wanting him to think I dislike it, because I don't.

"I know we're not official, and a way off official, but you know how I feel about you. And I'm pretty certain I know how you feel about me, too," he says, sounding a bit more confident in himself now.

"Oh, you do, do you?" I tease, raising my eyebrows. There's nothing like keeping a man on his toes.

"Oh, fuck off," he smiles, giving me a kiss, but this time a proper one, on my lips. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you Harry. But can I just check that this cake won't give me food poisoning? I'd like to not spend my birthday in bed, ill."

"I'm going to ignore you just said that...me? Give you food poisoning? That's insulting to my cooking abilities," he said, busting out his chest. The sight of it made me burst out into laughter right there on the spot, and it wasn't long until he joined in too.

"Right, let's cut this cake, shall we?" I ask, eager to have a taste of the cake he'd seemingly been slaving away at.

He grabbed a knife from the rack by the wall, and cut two slices for the two of us. I picked up the slightly bigger one - considering it was my birthday and all, and took a big bite into it. I savoured the initial taste, and it threw me because it tasted identical to my Nan's cakes.