Tiny, Darling.

Chapter 11

Hello, my loves!
Last chapter received 0 comments *sad*, and I hate to be that one author that does this, but for the time being, I'm going to be requesting that this chapter reaches at least 3 comments for me to post the next chapter.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one! I had fun writing it. All the love. x

The mug clasped between my hands sent warmth radiating into my skin, and the heat of his body beside me resembled the same thing. My cheek rested on his shoulder contently, and I listened while he spoke. His voice was deeper than usual, lower, and it sounded as if he hadn't used it in years due to the early morning; it was was shallow and sounded like his throat was sharp with edges.

"I think we could go out for breakfast, Lou," he hummed quietly, thumb pressing the down button on the remote to the tv to aimlessly flick through the channels.

"I suppose so."

"I mean, if you feel up to it," he murmured against my slightly damp hair, from the shower, and I could hear the pride rising in his voice despite how gentle he was trying to be with me.

I respected that in a man, that he knew how to take care of me after the night was over, "I feel just fine, Harry. A bit hungry, 's all."

His shoulder jostled me around a bit with a small laugh and he tossed the remote to the end of the bed carelessly, "You look cute."

I glanced down to what I was wearing. An oversized black and white knit sweater hung low to my thighs, and my legs were covered with a pair of almost-skinny jeans.

Grinning, I tilted my chin up and pressed my lips to his in a tender peck of a kiss. It was just enough to say all the words I wanted to without verbally speaking.

Harry's long legs stretched out and he eventually rolled out of bed, his voice pestering me to get my lazy ass out of the sheets while we both laughed. The cup of tea I had placed on the bedside table went forgotten as Harry bent down to tuck my toes into a pair of Toms.

"I could've done that myself," I chuckled, eyes roaming over the action and wiggling my ankles once he was done.

"A thank you would've been suffice," he smirked, cherry lips curled up confidently before his hands lifted up to emphasize his next words, "And for gods sake, Louis, don't leave them in front of the door next time!"

I let a loud, shameless laugh emit from my mouth when he rolled his eyes at me, complaining that it was inevitable for him to trip over them and I agreed, saying that he was born stumbling out of his mothers womb.

The air outside wasn't warm like it had been yesterday even though the morning sun still stone bright, and I heard Harry mumble something along the lines of the air is shifting.

"Do you like autumn?" I questioned, a light blush on my cheeks when Harry grabbed my hand in his own and tangled our fingers subconsciously.

My first thought was to glance around in search for any sneaky paps, but Harry's eyes suddenly brightened at my words so I decided to keep my attention focused on him instead.

"Fall's my favourite time of year," he beamed, pushing the door of a small coffee shop open and letting me walk in front of him, "Not too hot, not too cold, and just the right amount of pumpkins."

I laughed and looked over the chalkboard signs behind the counter, debating between a Yorkshire tea with milk or to try one of those new pumpkin spice coffees that Harry kept raving about.

"The pumpkin lattes are different here," he insisted, "They're not all white girl-y like at Starbucks, with the whipped cream and shit. It comes in a little white mug with foam designed like a leaf."