Detached [h.s au]

Chapter 15: Fight

Elizabeth's POV

My eyelids slowly open to the half, a low groan rumbling in my throat. I give myself a few moments to adjust to being awake, blinking away the blurriness from my eyes, a soft smile making its way to my lips at the sight of Harry lying on his back beside me, his head slightly tilted towards me, allowing me to admire him properly. He is hugging a pillow in his arm, making him look so adorable.

I rub my eyes, pushing back my knotted hair as I make a bold move and shift closer to him, hoping I don't wake him up. My eyes take in the tattoos on his arm, the interesting patterns swirling over the surface of his skin. His closed eyes are decorated with long lashes resting at the tops of his cheeks, his ruby lips slightly parted as light snores leave his mouth. His brown curls are a tousled mess and a couple of them are covering his forehead, partially hiding some of his beauty. His white shirt is a bit see-through, exposing more of his tattoos.

He suddenly stirs and in my attempt to throw myself away so he doesn't realise I was staring I almost fall off the bed, grabbing the sheet underneath me in the last moment. His green eyes open, his eyebrows pulling in a frown. His eyes shoot open at one point and he glances around the room in panic, his eyes eventually landing on me, the frightened look in them softening.

"Morning," I say a bit akwardly, pulling slightly toward the middle since my leg was dangling over the edge.

"Morning," he replies. His morning voice is really raspy and much deeper than usual and there's something strangely attractive in that.

A few knocks on the door fill the silence that has settled between us, both of us looking at the door, groaning at the same time. "Just a minute!" Harry and I say in unison, glancing at each other.

"I'm here to tell you the breakfast is ready," the voice on the other side says.

"Great!" I say excitedly, fisting the air. It must be nice to wake up every day to already cooked breakfast, saving you the trouble of having to do it yourself, especially if you're a lousy cook such as myself.

"We'll be down soon," he says, removing the duvet and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He lets out the longest groan ever, placing his head in his hands. After a few moments, he stands up and painfully slowly walks toward the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Harry is obviously not a morning person.

"Love doesn't exist, Elizabeth."

His response to my question suddenly replays in my head, my expression turning slightly grim. I don't know why I reacted how I did, maybe the way he said those words pushed me over the edge, in a mocking way as if what I said is ridiculous beyond reason. But then again, what did I even expect? That he'll say yes and prove to me there's still hope for humanity and that things can be like they supposedly were two centuries ago?

An uninvited thought saying I will have to face Andrew again creeps its way into my mind, making me cringe. I really don't understand why he spoke to me that way last night, was he actually flirting with me? I scrunch my face in disgust.

After about twenty minutes, Harry walks out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his curls hanging down in a damp mess, wetting his shoulders. My mouth gapes as I let my eyes take in his inked torso and defined muscles.

He doesn't seem to notice my reaction as he casually opens the wardrobe, pulling out the clothes he wore last night. My cheeks flush and I push myself off the bed, darting toward the bathroom. Once I close the door, I lean against it, allowing myself to get back to my senses. 

After I brush my teeth and take a quick shower, I open the bathroom door just enough to peer outside. Lucky for me, Harry seems to be gone, so I step outside, wearing only a bathrobe. I change into my last night's clothes, running my fingers through my hair, trying to make myself seem presentable. I decide to wait a couple of minutes in case Harry comes back, but after he doesn't, I stroll out of the room. I internally pray I won't stumble upon Andrew again, I want him as far away as possible.