(we're a) Fine Line {HS}

XIX - Slow Motion

The next morning the bedroom is being illuminated by a strong sunlight like it has always been so many times before. And how I enjoy it, even more with Harry here close to me.

He ended up asking me to sleep with him, while we were having some kind of dinner last night, because he's "tired of sleeping alone" he said, and maybe he wants me to sleep together from now on. I wouldn't mind that at all, that's for sure.

Bold of me to refuse the opportunity of waking up with his sleeping breathing down on my neck as we didn't dare to move from cuddling during the whole night. To refuse the opportunity of seeing his eyes slowly and a lazily open for the first time in the day, as he wakes up with my movement of turning around to face him, so intimately close to me. And to instantly brush his hair and keep my hand resting on his head as he closes his eyes again and smiles at my action before I leave a peck on it.

I wish every morning of my life from now on will be like this. It's funny because if they won't just yet, they surely have never been more close to, and that makes my heart openly smile inside.

"You're so beautiful." I speak my thoughts to him as I watch myself traveling my touch through his hair, from his hairline to his forehead and from there to his eyebrows, calmly, as if I'm blind and I need to see his face. He keeps his eyes closed and I wonder how he manages not to fall back asleep.

"You are beautiful." He corrects me on a low morning voice that resonates all through me, while I reach his nose, slowly going down on it to then spend a while on his cheek and close to his eye.

"I'm not." I reply unbothered because I know I'm right. "And that's the funny thing about all of this." I add when I see his eyebrows flinching to a frown.

"What do you mean?" I quickly look at the source of the sound of his voice, moving as to pronounce the words spoken, as if I realise his lips there only now. I mean, I don't really see them only with my eyes so my touch slides to get to them. He parts them at it, maintaining his eyes shut. I look and see them, trying to think of the answer to the question I almost forget. Good thing they're just what I need to do it.

"That we're not meant for each other or anything. And yet, here we are." He finally opens his eyes and looks at me, intrigued, making me instinctively look into them as well.

"Can't you see?" I ask him softly as if it is obvious, but perfectly understanding that he doesn't get it. To be honest I only realise it myself just now. "We're a fine line."

His pupils dilate a little at my reference and I clarify, looking at his lips again to use them as a silly example, "You see these two?" I ask him softly and rhetorically referring to his lower and upper lips.

"They're originally separated and you could say they have nothing to do with each other..." I stop my slow speech for moments to evaluate if my words really make that sense being said out loud. "One of them is perfectly built in a beautiful shape, while the other one is just fatter and less attractive." Again, referring to his lips but trying to compare them to him and me, respectively.

"But there's still a moment when they meet..." I softly push them together with him doing a part of it for me "...and they stick together. The fine line where their surfaces touch keeping them together..."

I lower my voice, fearing in a good way what he may be thinking about all this nonsense. "...for some reason." I add and look at his eyes, discovering they've been attentively listening to me the whole time.

"Is it a bad thing?" He asks lowly barely moving his lips because of my finger there, but I retract it to his chin, not wanting to disturb him. I look at what I'm doing confirming that the rough touch I feel is indeed his beard that already grew considerably.