Hope || HS ✔️

Chapter 65

Currently, it was 11 at night and I was sitting on the couch with Harry, drawing on a piece of paper.

My feet were planted in his lap and his feet were on the coffee table. I had a drawing pad on my lap, and he had one on top of my feet.

I had finished the Christmas tree without Harry's help. He claimed he started with the help of the ornaments on the tree, but he was so awful at putting them on the tree. I did it all myself and he still denies it.

As I was drawing a stickman, he spoke up.

"Did you do anything while I was gone?" He said, looking down at the paper.

"My life doesn't revolve around you, Harry." I said, scoffing.

"Okay then, what did you do while I was gone?"

"I went to Starbucks and wrote."
He smirked. "That's all?"

"Shut up," I said, smiling at the paper.

"Speaking of writing," he situated himself so he would be comfortable. "I believe you owe me a Christmas present."

"I don't think I do." I looked up at him, and he seemed to be looking at me.

His mouth dropped open. "You promised you would write something for me for Christmas."
"Okay," I said, flipping so a blank page on the drawing pad. I started writing.

Dear Harry,

This is your Christmas present.

Goodbye.

I tore it off the hinges and folded it up. Harry watched me as I did this. Then, I handed it to him and smiled.

"Merry Christmas." I sarcastically remarked.

He snatched it from me and opened it up. His eyes scanned the paper, then he crumpled it up.

"Not that, smartass. You promised me a song." He whined.
I chuckled. "You'll see it soon, Harry. Soon."

He flapped his head back on the back of the couch and groaned.

"I don't think I can wait anymore longer."

"Patience is deafening, but you have to fight it." I said, and laughed.

He laughed also. I took my attention back to my drawing, and Harry still remained in the same position. He was looking at the ceiling, but deep in thought.

After a while of silence, he spoke up again.

"I want you to meet my family." He said, clearly.

I looked up from my drawing at him. His gaze remained on the ceiling.

"Harry, I-"

"I want you to meet them. You're in London and near them, and this would be the perfect moment." He interrupted.

I couldn't do it. I just, couldn't. I would be so awkward and his family would probably think 'Oh, this is the girl that screwed up Harry.'

I just couldn't come face to face with them. It would scare me so fucking much. But, I knew Harry wouldn't give up. He would find a way to get me to go.

"They don't bite. You could meet them at the performance or something, or I could take you tomorrow or the day after."

He raised his head up to look at me. His eyes searched mine for an answer.

He spoke again. "They want to meet you."

I pursued my lips. "Okay, Harry."

He sat up more. "So you'll go?" He grinned so big, saying that.

I nodded my head. "I'll go."