Y/N was miffed.
She was so, so miffed.
Because she had somehow gave in and let her friends coax her into going festival camping with them. Camping itself alone already sounded a bit like a nuisance to her... add the hot, summertime weather part to it and that turns it into an absolutely dreadful experience. According to her, anyway. She hated having to sleep enclosed in a tight sleeping bag she could barely move inside of. How was anyone expecting her to rest peacefully with the rocks of the ground poking her flesh the whole bloody night?
Not to mention the constant, yet perfectly justifiable fear of a giant bug having crept inside without her noticing... But frankly, the worst part of all had to be the waking up at the utmost ungodly hours of the morning every single day due to the sun rays piercing through the tent walls.
And now, to make her camping experience even worse, she was also being forced to share a tent with Harry.
Harry! of all people! - A.K.A. the most unpredictable timebomb of all time. It got beyond annoying sometimes - his random spikes of energy that came out of nowhere, where he got all pumped up like someone had stuck a battery up his ass. He could only think to do stupid things then... things like jumping off a window into a pool or start climbing up a big statue just to prove to himself that he could reach the top. Sometimes, Y/N wonders how he hasn't died or gotten seriously injured yet... and now, the meanest, most selfish part of her was almost wishing he had sprained his ankle last week. When he fell while pivoting around Jack's kitchen in his socks after having one too many drinks. Maybe then he wouldn't have come to the festival, what would've benefit Y/N's sleeping tremendously, since she was already predicting someone like him would be insufferable to sleep next to.
She was supposed to be sharing her tent with Abigail... who had bailed last minute to go on holiday with her parents instead, leaving Y/N without a tentmate. What could have been nice, if their friends hadn't decided to tell Harry that it wasn't worth bringing his own tent, as Abigail was not coming, him and Y/N could share.
And of course, no one had "remembered" to warn Y/N about the sudden change of plans... probably because they knew she wouldn't agree to it...
And now here she was. Stuck with him.
Breathing the same heavy, heatconcentrated air inside the tent.
Which was her fault, granted. She couldn't blame Harry for it when he had suggested leaving the zipper slightly open during the night to allow the air to circulate... Y/N was the one who had said 'no'. Too scared to wake up with creepy, leggy guests crawling next to her face. Harry had still grumbled about it... but ended up relenting, obviously.
At the end of the day, it was her tent. Her rules. He was just staying there because she had felt like being nice.
He was sleeping on his back. Forearm laid over his face to shield his eyes from the luminous sunlight. Y/N had been trying to do the same... but her arm kept slipping down whenever she was about to fall back into her slumber. For fuck's sake. She gave up. Sitting up with a huff and rubbing the sleep off her tired face. There was no point in keeping the tossing and turning... she knew she wouldn't find a comfortable enough position to fall back asleep in anytime soon. At least the washrooms should be emptier at that hour... If she went now, she could probably avoid the line for the showers.
So she reached for her flip flops, glancing resentfully at the boy sleeping beside her... who looked like he was having the best sleep of his life. It was almost like he was smiling. His lips parted with each heavy breath he took, revealing the pink tongue hidden behind them. His body was practically fully uncovered. Arms and legs spread and- Oh.
