When I first started writing about Lia and Harry, it was supposed to be nothing but a one-shot, inspired by one single picture of him. A rude bartender who works across the street from this very socially anxious girl.
And then I got attached to the...
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Finding the time to meet with Harry wasn't easy. Something that should've probably been obvious, considering she worked in the mornings and afternoons, and he worked in the evenings and nights.
Still, they both seemed determined to make it work anyway. Whether it was through spending the weekend attached to each other, through a quick visit during weekdays before he went to the bar, or even through at least a few texts during the busiest days.
And then sometimes, when Harry worked the early shift and didn't have to wake her up to get in, they would also meet up for random sleepovers. Harry would cross the street and arrive just in time to go to bed, then leave the apartment right before Lia left for work. It wasn't much, but it was something. And she loved the effort he put into it.
"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you tomorrow?" he'd asked softly in the quietness of the first night it had happened. To which Lia had responded with a nod as she brushed the curls on the back of his head.
"Yes, I'm sure. I already feel bad enough you'll have to wake up so early."
Harry had rolled his eyes at that, but the corners of his mouth were still up as he snuggled closer to her. "Told you I don't mind. I'll just get home and sleep again."
"I know... But I'll feel better if you don't have to drive me to work first."
"Ok." He'd sighed, not necessarily happy with losing a battle, but also not particularly bothered over losing that specific battle. "Fine. One step at a time. I'm making you breakfast, tho. That's not negotiable."
Lia more than happily accepted that, and as time went by, those random sleepovers during the week became some of her favorite moments so far.
She liked to welcome Harry into her apartment after a long day at work. She liked to make out with him by the door, tiredly and just because. She liked to lay in bed as he showered, and she liked to watch him walk towards her wearing nothing but boxer briefs.
She also liked how, no matter what they had been doing or how they had been laying in bed, when it came to falling asleep Harry would always place his hand on her waist and push her firmly against him. And then Lia would always roll on her side, feel his chest meeting her back, and make space for him to tangle his legs with hers.
Harry would always kiss her shoulder before they drifted into silence. Or intertwine their hands and fingers as he hugged her around her belly. Or breathe deeply into the back of her neck and lull her gradually into sleep.
And then one night, after he kissed her shoulder and as he pressed their hands onto her belly, Harry also murmured, "Good night, babe."
And Lia's heart stopped beating.
And her lips curled into the biggest and silliest smile.
Because Harry had called her babe.
And whether Harry was conscious of it or not, that was now one of her favorite things to hear him say everyday — even when it was only through a text.
