under the covers [hs au]

chapter twenty-seven.

double update this week! i am still updating on Saturday.

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The stars and the moon listened attentively to their every rooftop conversation.

Each night, Samira saw a new part of Harry, saw how much he had grown since that first encounter on the train. That shy, awkward Harry had completely evolved. He embodied a novel—he was full of stories to tell. His every story was a token of his trust, and he'd given her every single one.

I love you was common in their vocabulary. Samira wouldn't have to bite her tongue and hold it back. When he would wrap his arms around her waist in the kitchen, at the end of a phone call, when he would say something witty. . . it came so easily now.

Samira felt him growing with her. It finally felt like Harry planted his seed, had rooted in right next to her in the same pot.

It was an early Thursday. Samira woke up with half-shut eyes, feeling Harry's stubble scratch her neck. His lips kissed down on her skin slowly, awakening her nerves. He hummed her name, caressing her thighs and meandering his hands beneath her shirt. Samira responded immediately, allowing him to take her gently. It was lazy, sloppy, but perfect—any love they made left her toes curled and her legs shaking—he never failed to leave her satisfied.

After they showered, Samira sunk into the couch, playing Apex Legends on her Xbox. She was focused, her eyes glued to the TV.

"Samira . . ." She felt the couch dip next to her as her thumbs roamed around the controller. "I got a book we can read tonight."

It had been a pretty rough week for her since she had to double-check her projects and thesis work. Samira had to finish up a paper later, and with the time she had, she wanted to play.

"Sam." Harry's voice was soft in her ear. "Darling."

On the screen, her character was roaming around the field, searching for supplies. It was critical because there were two teams left, and she was part of one of them.

Harry continued bothering her as she played. He held her head and kissed her cheeks, got in her way of seeing the screen, and booped parts of her face so she'd notice. But she didn't bat an eye, not once.

"Will you pause it?"

"I can't," she finally replied.

Harry grabbed her face and rubbed his cheek against hers—it was soft. For a second, she froze, forgetting the game.

"You did not." Samira paused, watching her character get annihilated. "You did not just shave your face."

Samira covered her face with a pillow; she heard Harry laugh.

"I'm not looking at you," she clarified, embracing the pillow with her voice muffled. "You do realize that I have more hair on my face than you do now?"

"Okay, and?" Harry pulled her arm, taking the pillow and tossing it to the side.

Samira leaned her head back, scrutinizing his face. He was in his work clothes, ready to leave soon. She put her hand on his cheek, frowning.

"You killed Haroon."

Harry giggled: "He will be back."

"Yeah, in a few years." Samira rolled her eyes, looking down at the small red book in his hands. "The Alchemist?"

"Let's read it tonight, yeah?" Harry suggested, resting his head on her shoulder. "What are we cooking tonight?"

"I'm missing my mom's food," she complained. "Maybe some pineapple curry."