Speak |h.s. a.u.|

Chapter 76

Annabelle lazily walked into the kitchen with her arms hugging her body, and her hair messily hanging over her shivering shoulders. She watched Harry stir whatever he was cooking, taking the spoon out and tasting the runny substance, then sticking the spoon back into the pot. Annabelle grinned lightly, seeing that he wasn't thinking about getting a new spoon after putting the old one in his mouth. She didn't mind, she just knew that if she had done that, Harry would make sure to tease her about being unsanitary.

Annabelle scurried across the cold tiles to be at Harry's side, leaning her head against his arm. He looked down, giving her a smile, then turned the stove burner off. Annabelle moved between his body and the stove, nuzzling her face in his chest. Harry's arms were around her body in no time, accepting her affection.

Harry closed his eyes and held tightly onto Annabelle. A deep breath escaped his lips as he squeezed her, wanting to just pour out all of his love to her. He hadn't heard her voice, her laugh, in so long it felt like. He missed her, even though she was right here.

"Do you remember in London, when you spoke to me? It was only one word, but," Harry sighed, "It meant the world to me." Annabelle tilted her head back to look at Harry's green eyes that were staring back at her.

"Do you remember in London, the first time we shared an intimate moment?" Harry's lips never turned up into a cheeky grin as Annabelle expected them to. She could feel her cheeks heat up as she nodded, focusing on Harry's forehead that seemed to be wrinkled from stress or concentration.

"I miss your laugh, Annabelle. I miss your voice, your touch. I miss you so much." Harry frowned, leaning down to press his forehead against Annabelle's. Annabelle knew she had been a bit distant lately, but she also knew that she were in love with Harry.

Annabelle rubbed her nose against Harry's, gently. Harry's lips found Annabelle's, and they thought that their lips would never part. The spark they both felt had them in such a trance; all they wanted was to be with each other, fully, and always.

The moment was ruined when Waffle ran into the kitchen, crying and jumping around Annabelle's feet. Harry let out a sad sigh as Annabelle pulled away from his lips slowly, but pecked his nose, and reach down to pick up the lonely puppy. Harry glared at the dog, annoyed that it had ruined his moment with Annabelle, after not being able to feel Annabelle's love in so long. The poor dog didn't know any better, all he wanted was some attention, but Harry wanted attention as well, and he would continue battling for Annabelle's undivided attention until he won.

Dinner came and went, with Annabelle trying to make Waffle calm down, and Harry complaining about having a dog that needed so much maintenance. Annabelle would roll her eyes at him jokingly, and pucker her lips at him from across the table when Waffle would win her attention, knowing it was driving him insane. He was being ignored for a dog, and that made him grumpy.

Harry decided to be grumpy for the rest of the night, crossing his arms while they watched The Office, or sticking out his bottom lip in a pout when Annabelle would toss the puppy's chew toy to play with him. Harry didn't bump Annabelle's hip with his while they brushed their teeth, so she did it for him. He tried not to show his grin as he rinsed his mouth out and left the bathroom.

When Annabelle walked into the bedroom and seen Harry in his boxers, looking out of the window as if he were in a depressing music video, she couldn't help but approach him and wrap her arms around his waist from behind. She kissed his back and lightly nipped at his skin, trying to ease his sour mood. Annabelle felt the goosebumps raise on his skin when her lips touched his muscles, which only added to her small amount of confidence. She soon moved to stand in front of Harry, and gave him a goofy smile as she gently tugged at the ends of his loose curls. His head tilted downward to watch her lame attempts at cheering him up.

Harry took Annabelle's hands and pulled her over to the bed, making her lay with him in the dark and quiet room. She moved to sit on his waist and played with his hands as his breathing slowed down and his mind felt as ease.

"I'm in love with you." He spoke, watching her figure lean down slightly. He felt chills on her body when he placed his hands on her waist. Annabelle kissed Harry, trying to tell him that she were just as much in love with him. He took her hint and furthered their actions, pulling her down so her body were closer to his and their lips were molded into many shapes, each one full of love and warmth.

Harry could not describe the love he felt for this girl. He knew that he were crazy to fall in love with a girl who wouldn't dare speak, but he didn't mind. He didn't mind that they were moving almost too quickly, because that's all they have ever known. Their relationship had always moved quickly, and he had adapted to that; learned to love it and live with it, happily. Annabelle felt the same way, and she didn't have to speak to tell him that, when she would kiss him the way she did, that would leave him craving more and more of her each and every day. They were somehow on the same page, and they were somehow completely content with being two idiots who were in love and moved too quickly.