𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒! | harry styles

𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈

"TELL me something about yourself."

My fork scrapes across the glass plate as I cut and spear another piece of scrambled eggs. It's the morning after and I decided to cook breakfast for us, but this was made difficult considering Harry had no bacon and his bread was turning moldy on the ends. But he did have an unopened box of pancake mix and a half dozen eggs, so I was able to whip something up from the few ingredients available.

"I hardly ever have time to cook," he'd told me. "I'd probably make sure that pancake mix hasn't expired."

I looked at the box quizzically. "Pancake mix expires?"

"I have no idea."

Turns out, it does expire, or at least it has a Best By date. But luckily, that date hadn't passed, so I had no qualms about whipping up our makeshift breakfast with these ingredients.

Now we're sitting at his breakfast bar, both of us perched on a stool and sitting so close that our bare thighs touch. We're both wearing a pair of his boxers and a t-shirt. Harry pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth. "What do you want to know?" The fork completes its journey and he chews slowly.

"What's your middle name?" I start.

"Edward."

"Oh yeah. I guess I knew that," I reply sheepishly, remembering our first date.

He quirks an eyebrow. "How'd you know?"

"It's what Cameron told me your name was during our blind date."

"Wow. That was pretty sneaky… So he didn't lie or anything," he muses around a mouthful of food. He's already digging around on his plate, readying his next bite.

"What's your middle name?" he asks.

"Marie," I smile.

"Marie…" He tests the name out, letting it roll off his tongue. Then he moves on. "What's your favorite city?"

"Oh, uh…honestly?"

"Of course."

"I guess here," I say. I feel my face heating, but I'm hesitant to tell him that the people here are the reason why I like it best. Cameron, Zoey, Irene, Carl… and, of course, Harry. Harry, who's made nearly everything more enjoyable. Work, baseball, showers, sleepovers…

He looks surprised. "Here?"

"It's a beautiful city," I respond, shrugging.

"You're right. It is," he agrees with a smile.

"What about you? What's your favorite city?"

"I liked Chicago for a long time. But Seattle has grown on me, too."

"Yeah?"

He looks at me, his eyes penetrating. He's not just seeing my face, my skin, my smile. He sees deeper than that. He sees me.

He always sees me.

"Yeah," he responds, reaching out to push a lock of hair from my face. He leans forward and plants a soft kiss on my lips, causing my eyes to flutter closed. "In fact, it grows on me more every day."

* * *

My morning with Harry had been a precious thing, not something to be taken for granted. We had awoken pressed together, his crotch in my tush, his face in my hair; his arms were wrapped tightly around me, and he moved his hips ever so slightly to create a warm, delicious friction.

Our shower was essentially a repeat of the night before. I put his clothes back on for breakfast, and then we watched TV and hung out until it was time for him to get ready for work. Several times, I considered leaving to buy some condoms, but in the end, I think there was a mutual understanding that we didn't want our first time to be a rushed experience prior to him leaving for work. Also, the thought of leaving to buy condoms kind of killed the mood.