Sanctuary [h.s.]

Chapter Thirty

"Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when

Our common goal was waiting for the world to end"

***

I awoke to the gentle sight of Harry sleeping beside me, his features softened in the morning light that filtered through the curtains. The golden rays casted a warm glow across his face, illuminating the delicate angles of his jaw and the full curve of his lips, which seemed to hint at a smile even in slumber. It was a rare moment, one where the weight of his usual charm and charisma lay unencumbered, revealing the boyish essence beneath the vampire facade.

Sitting up, I rubbed my tired eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep that clung to me like a fog. The cool air of the room brushed against my skin, heightening my senses. With a gentle nudge, I reached out to him, my fingers gliding across his shoulder, feeling the contrast between his cold skin and the warmth radiating from my body.

Harry stirred at my touch, his red eyes blinking open slowly, adjusting to the soft light. A lazy, devilish grin spread across his face as he focused on me. "Well, hello there," he drawled, his voice a low murmur laced with a teasing undertone. "Looking for a cuddle?"

Before I could answer, he pulled me close, pressing me into him with a warm insistence that had me laughing. We sank into each other, sharing an unspoken understanding that leaving the bed meant inviting back the uncertainties that lingered just beyond our little cocoon. Here, wrapped up together, it was as if the world had paused. My fingers traced along his arm, admiring the inked designs that sprawled across his skin—symbols and stories he never fully shared. He, in turn, absentmindedly ran his fingers through my hair, each stroke calming and deliberate, as if savouring every strand.

He broke the silence, voice soft and contemplative. "You know, I do envy you, just a bit."

I looked up at him, intrigued. "And why's that?"

His fingers drifted to my shoulder, lightly tracing over the freckles scattered there. "The way the sun has kissed you throughout your life." His touch followed the specks on my skin, lingering as though they held some mystery. "Your freckles... I could map constellations with them."

I felt a sudden urge, raw and undeniable. "Can I kiss you?" I asked, words barely above a whisper.

Harry's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know," he replied, his voice teasing yet inviting, "I think I'd be okay if you didn't ask first." With that, he leaned closer, the distance between us dwindling, creating a palpable tension that thrummed with electricity.

Unable to resist any longer, I closed the gap, pressing my lips to his with a gentleness that belied the urgency in my heart. The moment our mouths met, a rush of warmth enveloped us, a fusion of coolness and warmth, like fire igniting against ice. His lips moved against mine with a fervour that was unexpected yet thrilling, as if he had been waiting for this moment just as long as I had. I lost myself in the sensation, every worry and doubt melting away in the heat of our connection.

When our lips finally parted, he pulled back slightly, enough to look into my eyes, a playful gleam dancing in his expression. "Actually," he said, his tone light and teasing, "I know I'd be okay with it." His laughter echoed in the space between us, a melody that made my heart flutter, and in that moment, everything felt right. In our little bubble, we were safe, together, and free from the outside world, if only for a little while longer.

But, as with all fragile, fleeting moments, reality crept back in, forcing us to abandon the warm cocoon we'd built together in bed. With a sigh, we untangled ourselves from each other and got ready for the day. The quiet intimacy we shared felt like an ember we carried with us, casting a gentle warmth that lingered as we stepped out of our room and into the dimly lit hallway of the inn.