The Beautiful Hummingbird - Part I

The Dimples Edit

It is dark when we finally arrive in London and the area where Harry lives is not a place I have visited before but is considered to be very affluent with many large homes.

The Heath is a large ancient London park covering 790 acres and Harry's house sits right beside it. We pull up to a walled entrance with big double black gates and a single black gate to the side. The house rises up tall behind the walled entrance, set over three floors and all white against the black night sky. First impression is that it is obviously steeped in history and has many a story to tell.

Harry asks the driver to pull over as he makes a call and suddenly the gates open and the car pulls into the driveway. Harry gets out of the car reaching back in to take my hand and as I thank the driver and step onto the gravel path he says "Welcome to Eskdale." He opens up two double french doors and beckons me inside then he disappears outside again to get the bags and thank the driver.

It gives me an opportunity to take in my surroundings. Historical from the outside, the inside of the house is contemporary and it feels welcoming. Although dark outside I can see the many windows around the house will make it light and airy in the daylight.

Harry comes in with all the bags in his hands and puts them down by the door, throwing his keys onto the console table by the stairs.

"It's gorgeous Harry, you have wonderful taste."

He walks toward me, taking me in his arms, "thank you, like your house this is my ongoing labour of love but I'm getting there, albeit slowly."

So begins my stay at Harry's house.

It's just after 6pm when we arrive and although the housekeeper has fully stocked the fridge and I am more than happy to aquaint myself with Harry's amazing kitchen, he decides to order a Chinese. The takeaway arrives about 7.30pm and we tuck into it finishing by 8.30pm. Although Harry slept most of the way back to London in the car, he says he's still tired after his long flight and wonders if we can go to bed.

Gentlemanly as always, he asks if I want to sleep in his bed or in the spare room. It's just another demonstration of how he is always thinking about me. I am touched by his thoughtfulness but as we slept in the same bed at my house there doesn't seem any point in opting for the spare room. However, I can't resist winding him up just a little bit so I say the spare room so he can get a good night's sleep. The look on his face is adorable and he pouts out his bottom lip and gives me puppy dog eyes. I just laugh at him and realising my joke his dimples come out in full force shooting warm feelings directly to my core.

He locks up downstairs and taking our bags in his hands heads up the first flight of stairs with me following behind. There are two flights of stairs. At the top of the first one there is a huge window that runs from the first floor to the top of the house. Situated on the first floor are three double bedrooms and two bathrooms. The whole of the second floor contains his bedroom, dressing room, sitting room and bathroom.

Once up the second flight I enter his room. It's huge, has a huge bed and a huge bathroom and a huge closet full of rails of clothes. My mouth runs away with me and I can't resist saying it, "It's so huge!"

Harry throws his head back and laughs and dropping the bags on the floor pulls me into an embrace. With one eyebrow raised and in his very best 007 voice responds "so they say, I've never had any complaints!"

Shaking my head playfully and raising both my eyebrows at him I sarcastically respond "I was talking about your bedroom" to which he replies "yes, that's huge as well!"

I then have one of the best night's sleep I've had in ages, in the arms of Harry, in his huge bed, in his huge bedroom, in his huge, beautiful house, in London.

-*-

The morning sunshine streaming through the window by the bed stirs me awake. The view from the top of the house over The Heath is stunning and I can see some of the London landmarks in the far distance as it is a clear day.

The light in Harry's bedroom is an amazing space to wake up in. Stark white walls are softened by thick cream deep pile carpet that's like walking on feathers. White linen roman blinds hide the three big sash windows whilst luxurious silk black and gold fabric frames the outside. The furniture is dark wood with brass handles. The look is modern and subtle but classic - the look of a gentleman's room.

I glance over at Harry asleep beside me and think how grown up this all seems for someone so young but how he doesn't take it for granted and is thankful for everything he has. He's living the dream and he's invited me to share in that. This realisation suddenly scares me and the insecure feeling comes back.

"Morning beautiful Natasha," Harry snuggles into my neck.

Still wrestling my thoughts I half snap "why do you insist on calling me Natasha?"

Clearly surprised by my tone Harry shifts away from me and moves back to his pillow resting his head on his arm. "Why don't you like me calling you Natasha, it is your name?"

Flippantly I respond, "don't answer a question with a question."

I turn over in bed onto my side putting my back to him and sensing something is wrong he pulls my shoulder back down so I'm laying flat on my back with him on his side looking down at me.

"What's up?" I go to turn again but he stops me "I'm not letting you go until you tell me Natasha."

"See there you go again, you called me Natasha, call me Tasha."

Trying to lighten the mood by doing an impression of me he says "See there you go again, as I said before Natasha is prettier."

His attempt at wit backfires as my eyes well up catching him completely off guard. "What's wrong, please tell me?"

I blurt out "Natasha was reserved for my mum, that's why everyone else calls me Tasha."

With a concerned tone he says "Why didn't you say before I am so sorry."  I can sense him thinking before he says, "Natasha is reserved for those that truly love you."

I nod my head in agreement. Harry then turns my face towards his and wipes away the tears with is thumbs. He smiles down at me, "Well that's ok then Natasha because I am falling in love with you."

After Harry's declaration I don't say anything. I just look up at him and he simply holds open his arms beckoning me to crawl into them as he wraps them around me. My mind is reeling. He said he's falling in love with me. Wait did I misunderstand, me, he's falling for me. His words play over and over in my mind.

"Don't over analyse it Natasha, I am falling in love with you." He is so totally gorgeously unbelieveable. He can actually read my mind!

"I am not over analysing it!" I answer, clearly over analysing it!

Chuckling he says, "yes you are, I can practically hear your brain ticking in overdrive in your head. I know you better than you think I do. Yes it's only been a few months but I felt it from the very first day I met you at mum's house. You pull me towards you and when I get there you centre and balance me. The only other person who has ever done that is my Mum. That's how I know it's right. You understand me, this, everything and I feel free when I'm with you, I feel me. Strong words I know but I've never felt this before, ever. It's meant to be, we're meant to be and all I want to do is spend more time with you. Please believe it, don't question it, I know you feel it too. I sense it in your eyes, your smile, your laugh, your touch, your cuddles, your voice, in you, all of you."

Harry shares his feelings to me. There is no need for a response, there is no need for me to say "I feel the same". That would ruin his declaration. He knows how I feel and for now no more needs to be said. I simply look at him, smile and kiss him and he holds me closer as all my insecurities float away.