He was still there in the morning as a pink dawn baptized the Earth. A lone songbird beckoned a mate in cheerful tones as Cerise gently stroked Harry's curly head. A queer feeling washed over her as she did so, giving her a joyful tranquility completely unbeknownst to her.
Harry awoke to two loving azure eyes and a happy face. His own vibrant eyes looked as though he'd never shed a tear in his life, and his smiling mouth almost convinced her he hadn't the foggiest what crying even was.
"Good morning," he murmured to her, his dimples profound.
"Good morning," she returned, not able to resist smiling back.
His countenance weakened for a moment. "I--last night--"
She silenced him with a finger on his lips. "Don't. Expressing your emotions are an incredibly vital part of maintaining good mental health."
He would have laughed at her queerness had the situation been different; and would have been embarrassed had the girl been different. But she was genuinely concerned and dotingly patient, causing him to feel strangely at ease instead.
"What would you like to do today?" she asked him as her eyes bore into his. Her heart quickened and she found herself looking at the sheets instead. Her bashful cheeks donned an embarrassed rogue, which Harry had clearly noticed. With the same gentleness she had offered him, he said nothing of it.
"Eat," he answered simply with a grin.
Cerise giggled and rolled her eyes. "Of course,"
~
The kitchen was empty when they arrived. Various snacks and packaged goods lay unattended to on the granite counter-tops. Harry picked up a red box and examined it.
"Ooh-hoo, brownies!" he cheered eagerly, his face alight.
"Do you even know how to bake them?" Cerise asked quizzically, an eyebrow cocked.
Harry winked. "You'd be surprised at what I can do."
She stood next to him as he opened the box. "Well...will you teach me, then?" she asked in a quiet voice.
He laughed. "You can speak Spanish but you can't make brownies?"
"Fine then," she said blankly, her mouth pouting slightly. "You don't have to,"
He almost rumpled her hair, but thought better of it. He chuckled instead and gave her a sincere smile. "Of course I will, Cerise,"
Another unfamiliar sensation overtook her, but she suppressed it. "'Kay, you're the boss now,"
He took out the necessary ingredients out of the refrigerator and distributed them upon the counter. He explained to her how much of what needed to be poured into the bowl, and then told her to mix it.
"No, more like this," he instructed when she was haphazardly shoving the spoon into the mix. She let out a hearty laugh as he got behind her and put his hand over hers and guided it softly. His torso pressed against her back and she could lightly feel the thump of his heart. It was wholly therapeutic to be immersed in the rhythm of the process. Soon enough, the batter was to his liking, and he told her to tap the wooden spoon against the edge of the bowl a few times.
A stray droplet of the mix managed to land on a surprised Harry's face. He gave her a challenging look as he took out a silver spoon, dipped it in the mix, and flicked some batter back at her.
She gasped playfully and returned the favor.
Harry let out a roar as it landed on a lock of hair. He shoved his spoon deeper in the bowl--despite Cerise's efforts to keep it away from him by hugging it close to her chest-- and cannon-balled it onto her cheek.
It inevitably escalated into a full-blown brownie batter fight. Somewhere in the process, they dropped the spoons and opted for hands instead as their choice of weaponry. Harry's hair was drenched in chocolate and Cerise's beige nightgown was permanently soiled--but they both couldn't care less.
"What is this?" came a thunderous yell. Harry and Cerise's heads whipped round in synchronization to see a fuming Manuela standing in the doorway, pure fury written all over her face.
"Oh, shit," Harry whispered. Cerise bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"Clean this all up at once!" Manuela demanded in a wail. "Do you hear me? Ahora!"
Cerise nodded gravely and Harry murmured a quiet "yes, ma'am," as she stormed out of the room, muttering in Spanish about the bathrooms she needed to clean.
An uncompressed cackle burst through Cerise's throat as she got out some napkins. Harry joined in with a childlike laugh and clapped his hands like a seal.
"Ah, Harry," Cerise was saying after the fit as Harry cleaned the cabinets. "Could you please pass me the-- oh!"
Harry whipped round to see Cerise on the floor, a puddle of chocolate at her sides. Her mouth was shaped like an "O" and her eyes were widened in surprise.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked, trying not to laugh.
Cerise let out a chortle as she grabbed his outstretched hand for support. But the slicked floor was slippery and his footing gave out, causing him to land on top of Cerise.
In a forties romance movie, this would have been the part where the suppressed yearning of the two individuals for each other gave way to a passionate, soul-burning kiss. But Cerise and Harry were too overcome with the humor of the situation that they couldn't help but laugh again, and they did for a good five minutes.
