KILLSHOT // [H.S]

042. RUIN

042. RUIN

Rory let out an impatient sigh, tapping her foot on the ground.

Just when she had built up the confidence to ask Harry about starting work again (considering he was the one in charge of her shifts), he burst into the bedroom, claiming she had to get up immediately. Now forced to stand - well, she didn't know where precisely considering her eyes were closed - and wait, she was growing restless.

Rory knew the surprise would be good - regardless of what it was.

But that didn't stop her brat instincts from kicking into high gear.

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

"Almost, Bambi," Harry said, guiding her into position. "No peeking."

If she could, she would have rolled her eyes. "For the hundredth time, I'm not!"

His touch on her arms disappeared, and Rory could hear the sound of his shoes against the tiles.

Ah-ha! So we're in the kitchen!

"Okay, ready?"

"Yes!"

"Open!"

Her eyes opened, blinking as she adjusted to the light. Spotting him standing on the other side of the island, she looked down at the display on the counter. "Cupcake mix?"

"No, not just cupcake mix," he corrected. "I also got icing," he pointed to the bowls, "and sprinkles," he held up the container, "and so many other toppings I can't even remember." Noting her confused expression, Harry added, "You said you missed baking."

"I know, but you remembered."

A light laugh escaped him. "Yeah, I did. I remember everything you tell me."

"So, you remembered something I said, and then you went out and got the things we needed to do the thing I said."

Harry slowly nodded, repeating her sentence in his head. "Yes."

As she ran to him, there was a spring in her step - a giddiness to her movements. Every day, he surprised her more and more. And as she wrapped her arms around his neck, she showed him how much she appreciated his gesture with a kiss.

His hand went to the nape of her neck, pressing her against the counter. Rory was thankful their makeout session persisted - it helped keep the squeals of excitement at bay. Once she finally needed a breath, she pulled back and rested her forehead against his. Thankfully, no high-pitched noises managed to escape their way out of her.

"All of that over a box of cupcake mix?" he teased, "Does that mean I did a good job?"

"A very good job," she praised. "Good boy." Before the distraction could persist, Rory pulled away and turned around, focusing her attention on the task at hand. "How did you know confetti was my favourite?"

"Lucky guess," he lied.

Preheating the oven, she instructed Harry around the kitchen to get their supplies (a part she particularly loved doing) and began working on mixing the ingredients. As she moved the whisk around the bowl, suddenly, she felt six years old again.

The sweet scent of vanilla filled her scenes. Rory looked up, and her brow furrowed. No longer was she standing in Harry's kitchen. The once plain white walls were painted sky blue, and picture frames hung on every inch of available space. The fridge was covered with taped memories of photos, school reminders, and letters. A large bay window appeared on the wall behind her, providing a view of the backyard.