Conflict (Mal x Harry)

Scars, bumps and bruises

CHAPTER TEN

Mal awoke the next morning to sunlight pouring through a gap in her curtains. As she rolled onto her side to check the time, she groaned when the clock only read 5am.
Unable to fall back asleep, her mind now whirring with what today would bring, she lugged herself out of bed and to the showers.

By 6 she found herself walking through the doors to breakfast.
She had never really had breakfast when she'd been on the Isle, but now it was her favourite meal of the day. She always got something different: pancakes and berries, porridge and jam, an omelette on occasion.
Today, she chose yogurt and honey from the bees kept within the grounds of Auradon, with a side in honeydew melon and orange juice.
Alongside her breakfast, she always had a cup of tea; 2 spoons of honey and splash of milk.

Once her tray was ready, she walked out and into the fresh air, anticipating a quiet breakfast in the fresh, summer morning.
The air was still damp from the morning dew, and through the branches of the oak trees the sun burst through the gaps between the leaves.
She stood in the doorway for a moment, closed her eyes, and breathed.
The birds were chirping and there were only3 or 4 people milling about on that Saturday morning.
She felt her mind slow and her racing thoughts finally had some respite.

When she opened her eyes again, her eyes seeking out a table in the direct rays of the morning sun, her search stalled.
There he sat, on his own. Next to him a steaming mug; the spirals of steam accentuated by the rays of sunlight. His red jacket lay forgotten at his side on the bench, though more surprisingly was the book in his hand to which all his attention was directed.

In a split second decision, her feet began to move and within a breath she was stood on the opposite side of his picnic table. She saw his shoulders stiffen but he didn't look up, continuing to turn the pages, though she wasn't convinced he was still reading them.

"You're up."
She said but it wasn't a question.

He paused, mid-page turn, as though a thought flagged in his mind, and a minor crease forming between his brows, "As are you," he drawled.

She placed her tray down and sat, "I like breakfast."

The frown deepened.

"You hate mornings."

Her mouth fell open and he continued to stare at his book.
He wasn't wrong.

"I haven't been sleeping well."

She moved to prepare her tea, twisting the honey onto her spoon.

He closed his book.

"Is that coffee?" She asked, absentmindedly splashing milk into her cup on tea.

He hummed in the affirmative, now staring at the movements of her hands and they stirred the contents of her drink.

"You hate coffee."

His eyes flicked up from her hands to her face. She was already looking at him.

"I haven't been sleeping well."

Their eyes burned.

She broke away, looking to her fruit and pushing it towards him.
He nodded in thanks, accepting it silently.

They sat in silence for a few minutes; looking around them, at their food, at the table, at the trees.

"I have something for you," Mal said finally.