Unlikely (H.S.)

twenty-eight

~Harry~

Back at the house, I couldn't take my eyes off Harper. She was standing in the middle of my living room, looking around like she was soaking in every detail. Her fingers trailed over the edge of a framed photo, traced the spine of a book on the shelf. I'd walked through this space a thousand times, but now it felt different, like she'd brought some kind of new energy into it just by being here. Her presence breathed life into the quiet house, filling the air with warmth and familiarity, even if the surroundings were new to her.

I set her suitcases by the stairs and walked over, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind. Her body melted into mine, and I took a moment to just hold her, resting my chin on her shoulder. I pressed a kiss to her neck, letting the scent of her hair—lavender and something faintly sweet—fill my senses. It hit me all at once how much I'd missed having her close, how much better everything felt with her here.

"Feels different than your place, doesn't it?" I murmured against her skin, trailing soft kisses along her shoulder. I couldn't help but think back to all the time I'd spent at her apartment—how comfortable we'd become there, how we'd fallen into a rhythm that felt like we'd been doing it for years.

"Just a little," she teased, glancing back at me with a playful smile. "For one thing, your ceilings are much higher. And it's a lot quieter."

"Good for dramatic entrances," I said, grinning as I rested my chin on her shoulder, watching her reflection in the framed photo on the wall across from us. "And for convincing you to stay."

She turned in my arms, her hands sliding up to rest on my chest, and there was this look in her eyes—soft, affectionate, like she was letting herself just be in this moment with me.

"Are you trying to convince me, then?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity, but there was a hint of something more—a longing, maybe, that matched my own.

I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as I leaned in to kiss her, my lips moving slowly against hers. "Maybe I am," I whispered. "I basically lived at your place for weeks. Figured I owe you."

Her soft laugh bubbled up, a sound that filled the space between us with warmth. "Oh, so you're saying I'm here out of obligation?"

"No," I said, shaking my head with a grin. "More like... repaying the favour. For all those nights you let me hog the covers, eat the last of the granola... all that."

She shot me a playful, faux-serious look. "You think just because you brought me here, you're off the hook for the granola?"

"I'll buy you as much granola as you want," I promised, pressing another kiss to her forehead. "And I'll even share it."

"Now that's a real offer," she said, her voice softening as she looked up at me. "I might have to take you up on that."

The way she looked at me right then, with a mix of amusement and tenderness, stirred something deep inside me. I leaned down, pressing my forehead against hers. "You know," I said quietly, "I'm really glad you're here. Like... ridiculously glad."

"I'm glad too," she murmured back, and I could feel her fingers tracing light patterns across my chest, like she was marking this moment in some small way. It made me want to just hold her there forever.

But I pulled back slightly, giving her a teasing smile. "Come on. I still have more of the house to show you. Can't have you thinking all I've got is a living room and some granola."

We wandered through the house, moving from room to room. The kitchen caught her attention immediately, and she lingered there, looking around as if she was already imagining cooking something. I watched her, loving the way she moved so effortlessly in the space, like she was already at home. She peeked into the fridge and shot me a teasing look when she found it mostly empty.