The Second Time Around

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter 26! I hope everyone likes it! I'm really excited writing 30 and 31, I can't wait to upload them soon! :) xoxo

Chapter Twenty-Six (Harry’s Perspective)

“Harry! Wake up!” My chest is pummeled rapid fire by fists and I flinch away from them. I attempt to roll onto my stomach but there is a weight on my hips and I can’t move. I crack my eyes open and see Lucy straddling me with a bright and cheery expression on her face.

“What are you doing?” I croak, my voice thick and raspy with sleep.

“Waking you up! Come on! Louis is awake already, too! Now let’s go!”

“Go where?” I ask, genuinely confused. It’s still dark outside, why is she waking me up so early?

“To pick up the Miami bunch!” Her eyes are alight with excitement and I see that she’s already wearing make up. She must have let me sleep while she got ready. Sweetheart.

“Oh, right.” I sit up and press a kiss to her lips before lifting her by her ribcage off of my lap and climbing out of bed. How could I have forgotten that I’m taking her to pick up her new friends from the airport? Louis even volunteered to drive. The other three lads wanted to stay and sleep and meet them after the sun came out. Lucky sons of-

“Harry, come on! Get dressed! You’re not wearing your underwear to the airport!” Lucy cheers in a sing-song voice, shoving against my back to push me towards my suitcase.

“Calm your tits, I’m up, I’m up,” I groan, bending down to reach into my suitcase to pull out some clothes. I pause before I get to the bottom of my reach and straighten my legs until I’m almost touching my toes. I revel in the wonderful stretch that my body somewhat involuntarily started doing and I squeeze my eyes shut, a content groan escaping my lips.

“You’re hopeless,” She whines, pushing me out of the way and interrupting my stretch. I shoot her a glare but she doesn’t see it, too busy digging through my suitcase for clothes for me to wear. I resume stretching, my eyes squeezing shut again as I raise onto my toes and flex my calves and quads and push my arms straight above my head. I jump slightly when a piece of fabric hits me in the face. I open my eyes and see a red plaid flannel shirt on the ground. I pick it up and catch the black jeans she throws back at me. I drop the shirt onto the bed and pull the jeans on with slight difficulty. I am about to put on the shirt when she tosses another one at me.

“Which one?” I ask, holding up the simple black tee shirt.

“Both, it’s cold outside. Well, not cold cold, but cold enough,” She explains. I shrug and pull the flannel shirt over the black one once I have it on. She picks up a brown leather jacket with wool lining the inside and hands it to me before picking hers up from where she’d draped it over the back of a chair. She pulls on the brown riding boots I’d given her one time and I hold out my arm for her to take before we walk down to the lobby of the hotel, where Louis is waiting for us, dressed just as warm in my denim jacket. The one with the wool lining and the hole above the elbow. The one that he stole from me months ago.