A capricious rollercoaster of feelings - just for you and Harry, minced with a flavour of each emotion and sentiment you desire to experience.
. . .
[Oneshots] First prize winner of Imagines category in Kiwi Awards, 2019.
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♧
When you cook for the first time and he takes your first bite. His first expression is everything.
"How is it?" Your expectant gaze never wavers as you ask. Harry can't help but wonder, what the hell is this? It was bad, like really bad. But he was aware it'dbreak your heart if he'd react oddly. You'd never bare the courage to actually step into the kitchen to cook anything else.
It was a now or never.
So, he forcefully shoved the bite down his throat, almost on a verge of puking but managed to bring a big bright, lip tight smile over his lips as he gave you a thumbs up.
You smiled in relief when he gave you the thumbs up, oblivious to the fact that it was all a fake display to make you happy.
"Really?" You asked cheerfully.
He nodded his head vigorously as he attempted to get rid of the awful taste, trying to convince both of yourselves that it wasn't that bad.
Oh well.
"Okay, then lemme taste it for myself."
His eyes widened immediately and he shook his head vigorously, pulling the bowl away from your reach. You blinked.
"I- uh this is so good, I'm gonna eat it all by myself. Not sharing, nope." He blurted out quickly and you frowned.
"Harry, what childishness is this? Let me just have one spoon." You pleaded, furrowing your eyebrows at him. Harry panicked. His thoughts were literally chanting a mantra of think, think, think. He blinked before he had an idea.
His ring cladded fingers reached for the spoons in the middle of the dinning table, kept in a rack. He picked out one and handed it to you.
"Wha- why are you giving me a spoon H?" You asked, totally confused.
He shrugged, "You said you needed one spoon. I gave you a spoon." You internally facepalmed yourself and physically rolled your eyes.
"I wasn't talking about that you dumbo." Monotonously, you stated. What was up with him, you wondered. But nevertheless gave out a sigh, standing up.
"Okay, I think you liked it very much. Won't take a spoonful from you." You smiled weakly before stauntering towards the kitchen island, Harry's eyes never leaving your silhouette.
Relief only longed for a second before he realised, it wasn't just a bowl. But the food you cooked might have been stored somewhere in the kitchen for extra. He realised you had another option to taste your creation.
Harry wanted to do something but how could he? He only could watch dumbfoundedly, an expression of horror plastered over his facade, terrified of your reaction, as you put a mouthful into your mouth.
And you couldn't help but literally run to the sink to throw up before yelling out a loud, ugly groan.
