espionage [h.s.]

FORTY ONE

A.N. angry harry phew it's getting hot in here

HARRY

When I wake up the next morning, I'm surprised, and not very happy, to discover that I'm currently laying on the couch in the living room, instead of wrapped up in my warm and comfy bed which is where I was hoping I'd be waking up today. Rochelle's here too, still fast asleep and curled into my side with my arm wrapped around her, as if I'd been holding her against me while we slept.

I let out a groan as I rub my fingers against my tired eyes, already able to feel the ache in my back from my sleeping on the couch. Half of me wants to get up because it's probably not good for my spine to be laying here, but the other half of me is enjoying the warmth of Rochelle's body huddled against mine, and the rather angelic sight of her sleeping beside me. Her features are soft with sleep, her eyelashes casting a small shadow on her caramel skin and her pink lips slightly pouted, her hands cutely tucked under her chin. My lips curve into a small smile as I gaze down at her, my hand gently brushing a few loose strands of her dark hair out of her face, allowing me to see her full beauty.

My smile widens more when I recall the rather warm reception I received from her when I got back last night, even though her running at me so fast did almost make me fall over. I had been hoping she'd already be in my apartment when I got back, because I was practically itching to see her, and I don't think I could've risked sneaking up to her room. But thankfully, she was here, and when I opened that door and saw her pretty, worried face staring back at me, I don't think I've ever felt so happy to see someone in all my life.

I felt extremely on edge for the past week that we just spent apart, somehow always feeling like I had forgotten something back at the institute, or as if a part of me was missing. Now that I'm back with Rochelle again, I know, or I'm realising, that it wasn't a part, or just something, it was more of a someone. I'm not quite sure what that means exactly, but I decide I don't want to know. At least, not right now. I don't want to complicate things or overanalyse my emotions, because what I do know is that I'm happy, and I haven't felt that way in a long, long time. And I'm not going to ruin it. I'm not going to let myself ruin something that's truly good and real in my life.

I suddenly feel Rochelle stir from beside me, snapping me out of my thoughts as I glance  down to watch her slowly wake up, her muscles momentarily tensing before relaxing again. She lets out a small, cute whine as she wakes up, clearly not very happy about it. "We really fell asleep on the couch?" she mutters without even opening her eyes.

"Yeah," I confirm, clearing my throat in an attempt to get rid of some of the morning gruffness. "Not the best idea, was it?"

"No," she agrees, stretching out her limbs that are evidently a little stiff from sleep, the hard couch probably not helping much. "I'm sure that's not the night's sleep you wanted on your first night back."