Sage

62

Ellie.

I have no clue when Harry and I moved to my bedroom, but it's where we woke up. His arm draped around me while his chest calmly rose and fell against my back, telling me he was still fast asleep.

I didn't awaken to the usual hum of the city life; instead, the lack of air conditioning and the loud groaning of the fridge was a dull reminder that we were in my apartment and no longer in Harry's condo.

I feel a sense of comfort wash over me as I slowly peer my eyes open to look at the window across from me. The sky is a shaded blue, the sun resting in a flat line as it prepares to rise for the day. There's something relatively peaceful about my view being an abandoned brick building behind the complex.

I take advantage of the fact that I'm not having any pains, nor do I have to race to the bathroom as I usually do early in the mornings. Instead, I can relax into Harry's arms and listen to the sound of his light, nasally snoring. There are no honking cars and construction noises, just silence. Just us.

My bed isn't nearly as comfortable as Harry's California king's. The metal frame was rusted from having been purchased from a yard sale, and the mattress was on clearance at a nearby warehouse. Still, it was mine. And I was glad to be back here.

Harry shifts behind me, perching his chin on my shoulder and pulling my body closer to his. I sigh softly and melt into him even more if possible. I could smell my hair products in his hair (the ones he demanded I used when I told him I wanted to braid it), and it mixed with the expensive cologne that seemed to have become a part of him whether he wore it or not. The smell is authentically him. His clingy nature of wanting to use my products and the wealthiness that inevitably engulfed him. I knew that when the budget cuts officially began, his cologne was the one thing he'd hold onto.

"Why're you up, momma?" He interrupts my thoughts. His voice is husky and guttural from being half asleep—my stomach flutters at the sensual sound. Why does he always sound so hot in the morning?

"How do you know I'm up?" I respond, my eyes still closed as I envision him pressing his lips together and swallowing to lubricate his dry throat, then licking his lips afterward.

"You're not waking up the entire block with your snoring, that's why," He jokes, shuffling even closer to me. I can feel his morning wood against my ass, the thin fabric of the underwear not providing much of a barrier (not that I was complaining).

"Funny, I woke up from your snoring," I lie.

Harry fake growls, leaning forward and biting my earlobe gently. My face breaks out into a quick grin as I raise my shoulder to shrug him off.

"Stop,"

"But I'm hungry for something sweet," He continues, lifting his arm that I was lying on to hug me (and slightly choke me under the pressure of his inner elbow). His lips attack my jaw and neck in a fake animalistic way, him growling and shaking his head as he pretends to actually eat me. It's stupid, really, but I find my insides fluttering nonetheless at the fact that something as childish as this is warming my heart so much.

It's the little things, really. The fact that he's lightly tickling at my belly as if to involve Aaliyah. Or even the way his knee is in between my legs, allowing some pressure to be released on my stomach. He thinks about my comfort like it's second nature to him.

"May come back for dessert later," He jokes when he's finally done. I playfully roll my eyes and shift around to face him. He pulls away and allows me to, but immediately wraps his arm back over me once I'm situated, like he can't go without physically touching me. I don't mind his affection, in fact, I welcome it by leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his chin. I pull back and smile at him, allowing my eyes to take in his presence for the first time this morning.