(DISCONTINUED)

○ 2.1 :: Harold the Horny ○

Dedicated to @Harrygivesomegravy for that awesome cover :)

*

My alarm rang promptly at ten a.m.

It took me a few moments to shake the sleepy fog from my mind and get a hold on where I was, but I soon realized that I was in my bed, in my dorm room, curled up in Harry's arms with my head in his chest. His breathing was still deep and steady, somehow remaining unaffected by the obnoxious noise echoing throughout the room. I risked a peek up at him, only to have my breath taken away: with the faint morning light seeping through the curtains, he looked so peaceful laying there at his most vulnerable - almost like a fallen angel. In front of my adoring gaze, his brow began to furrow as he shifted beneath me, disturbed by the noise that was threatening to break through his slumber. I didn't hesitate to turn and pick my phone up, sliding my thumb across the cool screen to stop the alarm, and then double checking that the crease between Harry's brows had smoothed out and he had stilled. It was a rare moment, seeing him like this - and it was a moment I didn't want to lose.

So much so that I opened the camera and snapped a photo (or three).

The pictures were breathtaking. The way the camera had caught the light coming from behind him made him look like he was glowing, like he really was an angel. Honestly, the only thing that could've made the picture any more perfect was if he'd been shirtless, so that blanket that was currently around his waist could reveal his toned and tattooed chest. Hesitantly, I made the picture my wallpaper anyway. I wanted to be able to look at it constantly, but what if I accidentally unlocked my phone in front of somebody and bam there it was? What if the somebody turned out to be Harry? What if he laughed at me?

The man in questioned stirred again, this time not because of any disturbance but because he'd be waking up soon; his breathing was already getting shallower, his chest rising and falling more rapidly against my own. I knew I had to wake him up: if he opened his eyes and found me looking at him, he would only go on another rampage - and this time, he might not forgive me so easily.

That was a risk I couldn't take.

Taking one last, long look at his sleeping face, I placed my phone back on the bedside table and picked up Harry's sunglasses instead, the plastic cold against my hands. Turning back towards Harry, I let out a long sigh and reluctantly shut my eyes.

"Harry," I hissed, blindly pushing against his chest. He grunted, but as far as I could tell, stayed asleep. If rolling your eyes whilst they were shut wasn't so difficult, I'd have done it. Using the hand that wasn't practically trapped by my side by Harry's arm beneath me, I gently felt my way up to his face, tracing a curved line down from his temple to the sharp angle of his jawline, which had magically grown the tiniest bit of stubble overnight. "Harry," I tried again, receiving another grunt. Cupping his cheek, I shook his head slightly, at the same time grabbing his shoulder and shaking it, too. "Harry, babe, you have to wake up." I only realized what I had said after I'd said it, letting out a quiet gasp as I mentally cursed myself.

Harry groaned in annoyance, and I could only imagine the petulant frown on his face as he tightened his arms around me. If he noticed my slip, he didn't show it. "No," he mumbled defiantly. "You have to go back to sleep."

I bit my lip, stifling a laugh. "Harry," I attempted to say in a stern tone that only came out amused if anything.

"No."

"My eyes have been closed this whole time and I kinda really want to open them," I admitted.

Suddenly, I felt Harry's familiar gaze on my face, stronger than I'd ever felt it, and I knew he'd opened his eyes. "Really?"