Sweet Tooth [HS]

FIFTY TWO

One day later.

The next morning Max woke up slowly. She felt the sunlight creeping in behind her eyelids first, heating her up from the inside out. And then she became aware of soft carpet against her back. Then soft hair tickling her stomach.

She didn't move.

Didn't want to.

Just blinked her eyes open as she stirred sleepily awake. Long beams of bright morning sunlight stretched out across the room, making shapes on the carpet and warming up her body, his body, their bodies. The light was sort of dazzling as Max blinked and blinked away the sleep haze that had befallen her, sighing loudly as she stretched her arms above her head.

Warm. She felt warm. Like summertime or a sandy beach or a steaming mug of tea. Cozy. Comfortable.

Content.

Because everything came back to her. His truth, her truth- I love you.

His fucking I love you.

And it almost didn't feel real, almost felt like a strange dream, a fantasy.

But the way Max's thighs ached and the way she could still feel his lips on her skin as he breathed the words I love you onto it, into it - and the way she just felt different. The way she just felt better.

The way she just felt alive.

And oh yes, this was real.

She took a long, deep breath and gazed down at the sleeping boy on her stomach. His eyes were closed, his hair a mess, his breaths coming out slow and even.

And then when he stirred, when she watched him nuzzling his head into her stomach, tightening his arms around her, opening his eyes and then smiling - well she felt sort of ridiculous because of the way she was grinning, all teeth and wide eyes and pink cheeks.

"Hey," he said, his voice all gravelly from sleep.

"Hey back," she replied, tilting her head to the side as he rested his chin on her chest. She combed through his hair with her fingertips, loving how close she felt to him.

"You're so nice to hold," he said after a moment, sort of sighing as he rubbed his cheek against her skin. "I love holding you like this."

Max was glad he couldn't see the way her face lit up. "I love it too."

And then he pulled back, looking her dead in the eyes. "Do you remember what I said last night?"

Max could have smacked him.

"Of course I do," she paused, could feel her heart beating. "Do you remember what I said last night?"

"That I look sexy when I drive?"

And yep, that earned a smack.

"Oi!" He shouted, grabbing her hand in his and using his strength to knock her back all the way onto the floor so she was pinned down beneath him. "You said it not me, my little drunky monkey."

Max rolled her eyes, "Hey, I wasn't that drunk."

"Oh yes you were," he laughed, "Asking me to come and get you. No. Begging, actually."

"Says the one who slept outside my apartment."

Harry frowned, "Hey," he let her hands go free, brought his up to cup her cheeks. "Let's never do that again, okay? I hate fighting with you. I can't fight with you again."

"I hate it too," she sighed, staring up into those big green eyes that were sparkling in the morning light. "But you have to promise to always talk to me, Harry. Seriously. You have to communicate, we have to communicate."