Yes, Boss

eighty eight.

Flora. 

It's a cold morning. The type of cold you can feel even though you're tucked under layers of quilts and blankets, needing just one more to settle you back into slumber. Instead I tuck myself further into the gently snoring figure besides me, who gives off heat like a hot water bottle and is maybe just as good as a blanket or an extra jumper, if not better. I nudge my cheek into the warm planes of his back, tip of my cold nose against his shoulder blade, pressing my body into the curve of his, wrapping my leg over his hip a little tighter. Slightly worried he might roll back on top of me but at 3am when he insisted he be little spoon I didn't exactly have an option but to oblige to his gentle whining. 

I must have disturbed him, he stirs with a rustle of the cotton sheets, possibly a little hot under all the blankets if the heat of his skin is anything to go by. He rolls over instead, half lying on me, face coming to rest in the crook of my neck, arm draping over my waist. I reach a hand up to rest on his patchy jaw, stroking my fingers across it fondly.

"Whas the time" He croaks sleepily, not moving an inch besides his lips. I look towards the clock. 

"Half 9, did I wake you?" I ask, shifting my body ever so slightly closer into him. 

"Not really, you're cold" He mumbles, nuzzling a kiss to the tender skin on my neck, letting his hand move from my waist to my bare and goosebumped thigh, hand unsure of it's intention as he kneads at the skin. 

"I'm okay" I whisper, satisfied with being covered in his warmth. A few seconds later he lets out a small groan, low from his throat. 

"How are we feeling" I ask, as a telltale gurgle comes from his stomach. 

"Ugh" Is all he says, before leaping hastily from the bed and reaching the bathroom in just a few steps, slamming the door quickly before a loud retching is heard. I wrinkle my nose, tucking myself under the covers until the sound has stopped, followed by a flush and the sound of a running tap. He emerges a few minutes later. 

"Are you okay?" I look at his pale cheeks as he slides back into bed with a sigh and a pout that begs for sympathy. 

"No" He grumbles tucking himself deep under the covers. 

"And who's fault might that be?" I tease as he squashes himself against my side, I run my fingers through the soft curls around his face.

"Niall's" He answers bluntly, frowning, his eyes squeezed shut. 

"You threw up all over your hallway last night" I remind him, he opens his eyes sleepily. 

"Seriously?" He says, raising his eyebrows. 

"Yeah.." I chuckle. 

"This is why I don't drink tequila" He grumbles, staring up at me. 

"Thank you for coming to get me..I'm sorry if I was a hassle" He says, running a thumb across my cheek. 

"It's okay.. You remember me coming to get you?" I ask, wondering what else he remembers. 

"Yeah.. you bought me a bag" He grins faintly. 

"I did indeed" I confirm, he honestly doesn't look a good shade. 

"I'm gonna get you some water and some paracetomol.." I wiggle out from underneath his relaxed limbs, dreading the cold exterior of the room.

"Thanks" He simpers, as I leave the room, going downstairs and filling him yet another glass of water, aswell as a back coffee and two paracetomol from the draw.  I hurry back upstairs, my feet thudding quietly on the stair carpet. His hair is all that can be seen at the top of the duvet covers, and he's not moving, soft snores echoing around the room. I place the two cups and the medicine next to his head with a sigh, easing myself back into the bed on my side, deciding not to disturb the sleep he probably needs. 

Instead I flick the TV on, settling on a friends episode I've seen multiple times, I go onto instagram and am soon faced with multiple pictures of Harry and Niall. I can't help but chuckle, Harry and Cara, Harry and Kate, Harry and James Corden, the same lopsided, not quite all there, dimpled and drunk grin at his lips. 

A text comes through from Amber.

Amber; Thanks for dropping Niall back safe last night babes xxxx

Flora; It's okay, I hope he isn't too hungover xx

My thoughts stray from the conversation as I feel a familiar nudge, low down in my stomach. I turn to Harry, patting his shoulder urgently eager for him not to miss it for the second time. He stirs, rolling over and sitting up sleepily, hair obscuring his eyes as he brushes it away. 

"What? What is it? Are you okay?" He asks, a little panic laced with the confusion in his voice. 

"Feel this" I say, taking his hand and guiding it to where I last felt it the movement. He looks at me, green eyes suddenly more awake. As if on cue the little nudge comes again, directly beneath his outstretched palm. 

"Oh my god" He mumbles, pressing back at the spot lightly, only encouraging a little more movement from beneath my skin. 

"This is so weird" He mumbles, running his thumb across the skin. 

"Hey, weird? That's not very nice" I defend playfully, pushing his hand away which comes back straight away as if by a magnet. 

"Sorry, sorry" He backtracks, poking my skin gently for more signs of life. 

"Hey they like me" He enthuses, looking to me.

"Someone has to" I smirk, watching his features flash with mock hurt. 

"That's an odd thing for you to say, seeing as you told me you loved me last night" He says, eyebrows raised. I supress a smile.

"You remember that?" I ask, surprised, relieve flooding through me. 

"I do, I remember exactly was said" He grins, kissing the corner of my mouth and along my jaw.