Love Save the Empty

Nineteen

It was hot. Too hot. Too hot for a mid-winter morning, and too hot for Bella’s liking. Once she had mustered up enough strength to open her eyes, it was then when she realized that her entire body was draped in Harry.

His face was buried in her neck, his hot breath traveling through her entire body. His naked upper-half covered her and his arm was wrapped tightly around her waist. One of his legs was in between both of hers, and his intense body heat radiated onto her. Not to mention they were under covers.

She tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he subconsciously held tighter as if his life depended on it. He nuzzled more into her neck and cuddled more into her body. Even if she was scorching, she couldn’t help but feel so content.

Bella watched Harry at his vulnerable sleeping state for a little while longer, until finally she couldn’t take the heat any longer. She once again tried to wriggle from his grasp, and somewhat succeeded, her back now facing his front and instantly cooling the heated skin. But as she tried to sneak out of bed entirely, she was yanked back down into his embrace, this time Harry was fully awake.

“Now, where do you think you’re going?”Harry mumbled huskily into her ear. Bella’s insides tightened at the sound of his groggy morning voice. It was probably the sexiest thing she has ever heard.

“I was going to make you breakfast,” she finally answered, distracted from his gravelly yet angelic voice.

Bella’s few words brought Harry into a trance. He was lost in thought, remembering the last time someone had made him breakfast, which was a long while ago. His heart clenched at the thought, and Bella noticed his sudden change in character instantly.

“Harry?” Bella quietly asked, brushing the stray curls from his beautiful face. His eyes were fixed straight ahead, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pouted, an expression in which you would find on a little boy when he was lost or missed his mommy.

She could feel her heart drop down to her stomach at the sight of her boy in front of her. It was amazing how he could transform from a playful sex god to a helpless little boy in a matter of seconds. They way he looked, so hurt, it was heart wrenching. Bella couldn’t stand it.

“Harry,” she spoke a little louder, a little firmer. She cupped his face in her hands and moved so her face was in his field of vision. His eyes immediately fixed on hers as she did so, the helpless boy she saw in his eyes only seconds ago now only faintly there.

“Are you making French toast?”

Harry’s voice was quiet and shy, a very rare combination when it came to Harry. His eyes were almost pleading when he asked her. Bella’s hands were still cupped around his soft, pale cheeks.

“Do you want French toast?”

He gave her a small nod, and she could barely see the boyish grin that slightly appeared on his face. But it turned into a full on grin when she answered him.

“Then yes, I’m making French toast.”

Bella was suddenly pulled into his arms and he was kissing her. She could feel some sort of nostalgia and melancholy in the kiss at first, but just as quick as it appeared, it was replaced with passion and lust. Bella didn’t want the kiss to get heated, so she pulled away. He rested his forehead on hers and stared deep into her pools of green.

“Thank you,” he simply said, but Bella felt that it held so much more meaning than it came on to have.

She left one small, chaste kiss on his lips before getting up from the bed, threw on some underwear and a pair of shorts, and walked to the kitchen while Harry curled back up into her bed.

As she got out the ingredients, her thoughts wandered back to Harry. She literally watched his face turn from happy to sad in a matter of seconds. It was incredible, and she had never seen anything like it. But then again, she had never met anyone like Harry. But what was it that triggered his sadness? What was it that made it appear so quickly, so randomly?

As she placed the first piece of toast in the batter, she realized that there are many layers to Harry that she still hasn’t discovered yet. There is definitely a lot more to him than meets the eye.

-----

“These are really good, baby.”

Harry was just about finished with his 8th piece of French toast when he finally spoke out. When Bella had gone back into her room to announce that breakfast was ready, she found him sitting up with his fingers laced together in his lap, literally waiting for Bella to enter the room. Without a word, Harry ran into the kitchen like a little boy on Christmas.

Strangely, Bella had been making comparisons with Harry and a little boy all morning.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt Harry’s presence right beside her. His plump lips grazed her ear, and a shudder traveled down Bella’s body in response.

“They almost taste as good as you do.”

Oh lord. Harry reached for another piece and watched Bella’s cheeks flush bright pink. Her gaze fell to her lap, her fingers placed there suddenly becoming very interesting. Somehow she had managed to let the events of last night float to the back of her mind, but they will never be completely gone. What they did last night was the first intimate thing Bella had done with anyone. And what made it even more special was that it was with Harry. It was most definitely going to be a birthday she will never forget.

She could feel Harry’s penetrating gaze still fixed on her. She flushed even more. How could he be so cool, calm, ad collected, while Bella was over here squirming just at the thought? It didn’t last long, though. Soon enough, Harry was back diving into the stack of French toast that Bella prepared for him.

For some reason, Bella felt brave.

“How come you like French toast so much?”

It was obvious Harry wasn’t going to explain his earlier shenanigans to her freely, so there was no way to find out the answer than to ask him. Harry suddenly stilled, his mouth open and his fork full of breakfast hanging half in the air. The room was quiet only for a moment before Harry continued on.

“Have you eaten anything yet, Isabella?” He asked firmly, a desperate attempt to change the subject.

Woah. Talk about a mood swing from happy, to sad, to happy again, to sexually aroused, then to strict and firm. And it was only ten in the morning.

It was evident Harry didn’t want to talk about his feelings, or anything for that matter. But Bella wasn’t going to back down. He knew so much about her past, but she felt as if his was just a big black hole.

“I’ll eat when you answer my question.”

This question took Harry by surprise, his eyebrows raising with his mouth full. He just shrugged, his response, short and cut.

“I just do.”

“Harry.”

“What, Isabella?!”

At this point he was shouting, his fist banged on the hard wood, causing all the plates and silverware, and Bella, to jump up from the table. She didn’t want to, but on instinct, she got up from her seat and cowered away from Harry. With everything that has happened to her, with Brent, with Harry’s father, with Clyde, she is a little more jumpy.

When Harry saw Bella’s reaction to his mini outlash, he instantly regretted it. He has never had to talk about his feelings, simply because he didn’t want to. And he has never been pushed to do so, and Bella forcing this on him was alien to Harry. And Harry didn’t like it. But he hated seeing his girlfriend cower in his presence even more.

He reached out his hand slightly for her to take. She didn’t flinch, and she simply didn’t move either. She didn’t move to take his hand, or to move away from him. Harry let out a frustrated sigh and slumped back down in his chair with his elbows on the table with his head in his hands.

Bella could barely hear him as he spoke.

“Every Sunday morning, when I was younger, I would always have French toast.”

His voice was shaky.

“I remember I could always smell them from my room, and hear her singing…”

Harry’s voice trailed off in the end, and he vigorously ran his fingers through his thick curls. As he did, Bella could see the way his eyes were squeezed shut, as if it were painful to speak.

Harry was never forced to think back on his past. Now that he did, it couldn’t be any more painful.

“I would sit and wait for her to come and tell me breakfast was ready, even if I had to sit and wait for hours. I always loved her waking me up in the morning.”

Bella grabbed Harry’s hands and pulled them away from his face. He hadn’t even realized she was so close, for he was too caught up in his own thoughts. Her small hands surrounded only one of his, Harry’s other hand running up and down his thigh in attempt to relax himself.

She could see Harry physically hurting from reminiscing on his past.

“Who is ‘she’, Harry?”

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat, and his eyes squeezed shut once more. He had to force out the words, and even then they were barely audible.

“My mummy.”

And that was all she needed to hear. She decided she didn’t want to push him anymore. All she wanted to do was help her broken boy.

No words were exchanged as Bella climbed into Harry’s lap, and his arms instantly circled around her waist as his face found its favorite spot buried in her neck. She could feel his heavy breathing on her shoulder, and one of her hands cradled his head while the other ran through his hair, something she knows he loves.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he spoke from her neck.

The truth was, it sort of scared Bella. How his mood can completely change almost instantly, only God knows. It was one of his dangerous traits. He was like her own Christain Grey. Her own Fifty Shades of fucked up.

“It’s okay,” was all she could manage to say.

As they sat there in the silence, Bella reflected on the new information she had. She knew that Harry does know who his mother is, and that he was completely smitten with her. Bella smiled at the thought of Harry being a mama’s boy.

But, where is she now? What happened to her? It is obvious whatever happened wasn’t good, for Harry is completely beaten up about it. There are so many more questions Bella wanted to ask. But when you have Harry in your arms in need of attention and affection, you want to make the best of this rare moment as much as you can. Now would not be the best time to ask.

Suddenly, both Harry and Bella jumped as Harry’s phone rang from the table. He waited a little while longer before pressing a kiss to Bella’s lips and answering the phone. His eyes didn’t leave hers the whole time he spoke.

“What… yes… today?... alright… I’m bringing Isabella… yes, I’m with her now…oh for fucks sake…. I’ll see you soon.”

Harry set his phone back on the table, still staring intently into hers.

“The gang is going to Louis’ for a barbecue.”

“Are you going?”

He nodded slightly before kissing Bella chastely on the lips and carrying her to her bedroom.

“And you’re coming with me.”

And strangely, he didn’t sounds too excited about it.
-----

“Don’t play games with me right now, Isabella.”

Harry stood on one side of the table with a scarf in his hands while Bella stood on the other side, desperately trying to steer clear of Harry.

“You’re the one chasing me right now, Harry,” Bella giggled.

“I just want you to put this fucking scarf on!”

Bella and Harry were getting ready to head to Louis’ when it first started snowing. And that is when Harry went into overdrive, making Bella bundle up so she was barely able to move. He wouldn’t settle for a simple jacket. He made Bella wear the jacket, his other jacket, a hat, a pair of gloves, and an extra pair of socks. Bella drew the line when he held out the scarf, for she was practically having a heat stroke then and there. And now, here they were, Harry chasing Bella around the house in attempt to wrap a simple scarf around her neck for the measly ten second walk she will have to take to get to Harry’s car from her house.

Bella found the situation hilarious. Frankly, Harry thought less so.

“You are impossible, Isabella.” Harry groaned, preparing to pounce, “You are going to wear this whether you like it or not.”

Bella just giggled in response, a sound that Harry loved more than anything in the world.

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

Bella was usually very quick. However, with the extra clothing on her, it was harder to move, not to mention it added about ten pounds on the girl. So when she tried to make a beeline for the couch as a shield, she was almost instantly caught and pinned to the floor.

“Why do you defy me, baby?” Harry asked, a bit more playful now that he had finally had her pinned down. Her bottom lip popped out at she pouted, and Harry leaned down so his face was hovering only millimeters above hers.

“Lesson number one,” he whispered, his lips just barely touching hers, “I always win.”

With that, Harry brought his lips down on Bella’s, both immediately getting lost in the kiss. Harry tongue slid into her mouth, and she could taste the minty freshness from her toothpaste. One of Harry’s hands found her cheek while the other hiked her leg so it was wrapped around his torso. He grinded his hips into hers, and she could feel his manhood pressed up against her core. She couldn’t help but moan.

“You like that, baby?” Harry asked as he repeated the movement of his hips once more, earning yet another moan from Bella.

He bit down and sucked on her bottom lip before speaking, “I can’t wait to taste you again.”

The softness and huskiness of his voice sent shivers down Bella’s spine. Suddenly, the warmth of his body was no longer radiating onto her. Her eyes fluttered open to find Harry still hovering over her, admiring the scarf that she hadn’t realized was now wrapped around her neck.

“Thanks to your little episode, we are going to be late. Come on, baby.”

Just before Bella walked out the door, she tugged the scarf from her neck and tossed it on the table.