The party was dying down slowly. People going off into smaller groups and then eventually starting to head out, giving their thanks to him for a great night. There were always the few friends that lingered, an unspoken invitation to stay as long as they wanted.
He was giving hugs to a few at his front door, wishing them a safe drive and a request for a text that they were home before shutting the door and leaning against it briefly, exhaling a low breath. The introvert in him was scratching its way out. So much socializing in what seemed like so little time always got the best of him towards the end of a good night.
He passed the inevitable friend asleep on his sofa as he walked back through the house, noticed the light coming from the back patio as a few passed a joint around, but the house was otherwise quiet. A few soft whispers came from outside, but that was it.
So when he walked into the kitchen to find you sitting at his island, your back to him, he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. Plates had disappeared from the counters, trash thrown away and a familiar lemon scent wafted in the air before he noticed the sound of the dishwasher running and the small strawberry shaped magnet that read CLEAN was flipped right side up.
"Didn't have to do that," he said as he made his way closer to you.
Your eyes met him with warmth, your skin glowing against the candle in the center of the counter, the only other dim light in the kitchen coming from the under cabinet lighting.
"If I didn't want to, I wouldn't," you said simply.
If that statement didn't sum you up, Harry wasn't sure what could. That really was just how you were. He learned quickly that you didn't go out of your way for just anyone. Your closest friends had that side of you reserved for them only. Thinking back to when he first met you, how practically cold you came across, compared to how he knew you now, was something he honestly cherished. You were a good friend – someone he could count on, someone he genuinely enjoyed spending his time with.
He sat beside you quietly, elbows propped up on the edge of the counter as you took a sip from your wine glass.
"Put the leftover guac in the fridge for you."
"You're seriously the best," he chuckled. "It's so fucking good. Thank you."
You laughed at how animated he was, appreciating how much he enjoyed something so simple. "Told you I'd make double for you."
"I know," he nodded, blinking slowly. "Appreciate you making it for me."
He looked you over for a moment, almost seeming like he had more to say before you were interrupted.
"H? We're gonna head out man."
Ever the host, Harry was immediately rising from his stool to hug his friends, his cologne clinging in the air around you even after he moved away. You watched him momentarily as he said his goodbyes, eyes drawn to the way his t shirt stretched across his back as he gave his goodbye hugs, before bringing your eyes back to the nearly empty wine glass in front of you, just to tip the rest back.
And then suddenly Harry was across from you, leaning down to grab another bottle of wine from the small fridge tucked away in the island.
"I should probably call an uber," you announced as you slid your empty glass toward the center of the island.
He stood with the neck of the bottle gripped tightly in his fist, eyes meeting yours from across the large counter.
"You sure? Was gonna join you."
