I woke from my peaceful slumber, expecting the sun to brightly greet me by it's light peeking in through each window, but instead I woke to find my head be burrowed into Harry's chest. His heartbeat was moderate; it's rhythmic pattern could faintly be heard. He lightly stirred in his sleep as I felt his arm protectively tighten around my waist, subconsciously decreasing the small distance between us, our limbs sloppily tangled together. I wondered how we ended up in this position; I don't recall either of us shifting while we slept.
Security and content washed through my entirety as I remained in Harry's warm embrace. I gently smiled to myself at his conduct, pleasantly surprised that he was able to give and recieve opulence this easily.
I absentmindedly traced the defined line with my fingertips. Delicately, I ran them across his cheek and to his full, bubblegum pink lips. I was suddenly so intrigued, so fascinated by his features, and I felt as if this was the only period of time where I would get to admire them. I had a meager concept of what was happening to me, my feelings gradually becoming more powerful each day spent with him. I wasn't exactly positive if I was thinking with emotion or vulnerability.
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of Harry's gruff voice. "Are you enjoying yourself?" he chuckled, tiredly peering down at me.
"Yes," I giggled.
He shook his head in amusement before disembroiling himself from me. I lazily slung my legs over the couch, rising to my feet. Harry did the same, bringing his arms above his head to arch his back, emitting a mixture of moaning and yawning as he stretched.
"I'm gonna go make some tea," I said while hastily rushing to the kitchen, not wanting to find myself gazing at his flexed torso like I had so many times before.
"Do you want me to help you make breakfast?" he called from the living room.
I sighed, hoping he wouldn't want to be of assistance in anyway so that I was able to think, whatever I was thinking. But I couldn't refuse.
"Sure," I replied.
He shuffled into the kitchen, seeming excited to play a part in the preparation of breakfast.
"I've been told that I make exquisite pancakes," he proudly stated, examining each cupboard to look for ingredients. "Where's your - Ella, are you okay?"
I hadn't realized I'd been silent for this amount of time. I spun around to face him, leaning against the cool marble counter behind me. "Hm? No, I'm fine."
He looked at me with slight disbelief. "Are you sure? You look distracted."
"I'm fine, I just..." I bit my lip, compressing any irrational thing I wanted to utter. "Thanks for being here for me, Harry."
He grinned with gratitude before walking towards me and planting a dainty kiss on my cheek. "No problem."
The touch of his lips lingered there, causing heat to rush to my cheeks. This was an unusual sensation; I hadn't blushed like this since I was younger, the smallest gesture igniting a wave of warmth to flow to my face.
"Are you blushing?" Harry almost burst into laughter. "I wasn't expecting to see that."
"Shut up," I countered, embarrassed. I imagined my cheeks were the deepest shade of pink by now. I could basically see the color reflecting off of Harry's skin.
"Ella's blushing, Ella's blushing," he teased in a sing-song voice, playfully poking at my sides.
I halfheartedly shoved him away from me. "Just go make your 'exquisite pancakes,'" I mocked.
