Pretty Please Don't Pinch Me

85. Blackened Steak & Hushed Tones

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I position my phone at him, and take a series of snaps with the shutter volume obnoxiously high.

"What are you doing?" he says, taking my iPhone from my hand, and I position myself next to him as we look through the photos together.

"You actually look ridiculously good in that one," I point.

He really does. His torso flexed and arm resting oh so naturally behind his head.

He really is a vision.

"Which one?" he asks, scrolling back, until I tell him the one.

Within seconds he uploads the photo to my Twitter, captioning it "Lazy Sundays."

"I didn't realise we were telling people just yet," I say.

I'm not disappointed; I just thought that maybe we would have eased into it considering his fans.

"Let them think whatever they want to think," he shrugs.

"Harry, the photo clearly suggests that you're in my bed," I laugh. "What else is there to get?"

"Oh, right," he replies smirking before kissing me longingly on the mouth. "Are you free tonight?"

"I think so, why's that?"

"Liam and Sophia want us over for dinner," he informs me.

"Really? I read somewhere that they broke up," I tell him.

"I thought you of all people would have learned by now not to believe everything you read," he laughs.

"Yeah, but they didn't really seem to be in that good a place at the Brits," I explain. "And it just kind of made sense that they would break up if they were making each other unhappy."

"Well they kind of went through that for a bit. It really brought his mood down for a while, and we even told him to not even bother showing up for practice, because that's how bad it was getting. But they seem to be good now, so we'll just leave it at that"

"Well that's good then," I comment. "I'll come with you."

"Great. I have to be down at the studio for the new album, but can I borrow your shower before I go?"

"Hmm. No," I jokingly answer, kissing him briefly on the lips. "The towels are in the cupboard," I call out to him as I'm out the door.

I traipse into the kitchen to the smell of cooking bacon.

"Yum, is there enough for me?" I ask.

"You're lucky there is," she answers as she cracks an egg into the simmering water.

"Oh, and poached eggs too? I must have been a Saint in a previous life."

"Where's Harry?" she asks.

"Showering," I answer. "He's heading to the studio later on today but we're going for Liam's for dinner. Sophia is going to be there too."

"Oh, I thought they broke up?" she asks, confused.

"Me too," I laugh. "Apparently not."

"Speaking of the studio, I'm about ninety percent sure that Luke has written another song about you."