○ 3.2 :: Dick-Munching ○

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Dedicated to emilys_a_penguin for adding this to her reading list :)

*

The soft sound of singing was the first thing that greeted me as soon as I drifted back into consciousness. The voice was rich and smooth, like literally listening to melted chocolate - except that the gentle rasp in it identified it as Harry's. Like melted chocolate with a twist.

Like those chocolate bars with those cookie bits in them, I decided.

I lay still and listened, trying not to give away that I was awake with my breathing in case he stopped. Harry seemed oblivious and continued, with a sort of raw passion that tugged at my heartstrings. I liked how he changed some of the notes now and then, making them purely his without even trying. Since when could he even sing? He didn't seem like the type to sing. Why the fùck hadn't I heard him before now? I almost felt betrayed that he'd held out on me. No way was I ever letting this go after this. I kept listening even after he'd finished the sad song he'd been singing before and started a new one.

Girl I see it in your eyes you're disappointed,

Cos I'm the foolish one that you anointed with your heart.

I tore it apart.

And girl what a mess I've made upon your innocence,

And no woman in the world deserves this

But here I am,

Asking you for one more chance

My heart jumped in my chest as his voice suddenly got louder, suddenly realizing that he'd been laying next to me the entire time and I'd been too wrapped up in his singing to notice. Now though, it was impossible not to notice his proximity, because he was practically singing the words into my ear. Was he singing to me? My breathing threatened to stop, but I forced it to stay even. What if he got mad that I'd been listening?

Can we fall,

One more time?

Stop the tape,

And rewind?

Oh, and if you walk away I know I'll fade

Cos there is nobody else

It's gotta be you,

Only you,

It's got to be you,

Oh, only you.

After that, he resorted to quietly humming instead, and I took that as a sign that the coast was clear to 'wake up'. Slowly, I opened my eyes, purposely making sure to make big show out of groaning, stretching and sleepily rubbing my eyes. I did feel refreshed after that nap though; it felt like it had been years since I'd been this well rested. I could feel Harry's eyes on me, so I twisted my neck to face him, only to find him a lot closer than I anticipated. "Hi," I breathed.

He cracked a small smile. "Hey," he greeted. "Did you sleep well?"

I let my eyes wander over his face before I answered. His hair was adorably disheveled, fanning out on the pillow around his head like a halo. Part of me seriously wondered how the hell he'd managed to master lying down with glasses on. "Yeah, actually," I finally responded, gazing into his pitch-black lenses and wondering once again what colour his eyes were. I hoped he hadn't inherited Des' eyes. "Thanks for staying."

"No problem," he dismissed. "I hope you don't mind me laying here. The chair got kind of uncomfortable."

My grin widened without my permission. I loved his sweet gentlemanly side. Despite his tough front, Harry was a sweetheart at best, and I knew that was a quality he'd inherited from him mother. I mentally thanked God for Anne. "It's fine, Harry. It's not like we haven't done this before, and this is your bed," I reminded him.

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