Falling | h.s

thirty-three

JANIE'S POV

I woke up warm and happy, cuddled deep under Harry's thick comforter. I inhale deeply, breathing in the smell of Harry and sunshine. I notice that the window on the other side of the room is open and assume that Harry opened it while I slept.

I roll over to grab my phone off of the bedside table and open a text to Rosie. I send her a detailed happy birthday text and attached a series of party emojis. She writes back immediately, in all caps, how excited she was to spend the night with me and Harry. I couldn't fight the smile that tugs at my lips as I thought about spending the night in my new favorite place with some of my favorite people. Remembering that one of those people was downstairs, I throw the sheets off of my legs and hurry down the hallway.

As soon as I get to the top of the stairs, the sound of Bruce Springsteen and the smell of coffee overwhelms my senses. I could hear Harry humming along to "Sherry Darling" and the sounds of crackling bacon. I practically skip down the stairs, nearly slipping a handful of times.

Harry is standing in the kitchen, only wearing a pair of plaid boxers and socks. I couldn't pull my eyes away from his bare chest, surely warm from the heat of the kitchen. His back is turned to me as he flipped a pancake. I tiptoe across the room and wrap my arms around his waist, making him gasp in surprise before he relaxes into my arms.

"Mhmm. Mornin' honeypot," he all but coos out, turning around to wrap his arms around me. I press my face into his bare chest, letting the smell of his bare skin overwhelm my senses. "Sleep well?"

"Like a baby," I smile and he hums back at me. "Are you making me breakfast?" I ask rhetorically, pulling back from him but his hands continue to rest on either side of my hips.

"Of course," he leans down to peck my nose. "I'm a gentleman, of course." He then raises his lips to my forehead and kissing it lightly as I hum in appreciation. He releases my hips, allowing me to walk over to the stove and look at what he is preparing.

"Chocolate chip pancakes are your favorite, right?" He confirms, and I nod in approval.

"Best food on the planet." He grins at my words before reaching forward to flip the pancakes on the pan. I move from his side to a clear area of counter space, pushing myself up to sit next to the stove.

"So, what're we doing today, baby honey," he asks, moving pieces of bacon onto two separate plates.

"I was thinking we could bake a cake for Rosie's birthday," I beam up at him with a hopeful grin. He raises his eyebrow suspiciously at me, still moving food onto our two plates.

"Is that so?" He inquires and I hum in response.

"Mhm. A birthday present!"

"We already picked her out something nice!" He protests, opening the fridge to pull out a carton of milk for our coffee. I grab two mugs from the cabinet next to me and hand them to him wordlessly.

"I know, but think about how cute it would be to bring her a homemade cake!" I enthuse, watching as he fills up my coffee mug and passes it to me.

"Well, you know, I used to work in a bakery..." he starts and I can't help but throw my head back in laughter at his words.

"So you've said," I giggle teasingly. He opens his mouth in fake shock and swats at my knee.

"...so I think I could make a mean cake if I tried. Might be a little rusty but it'll be made with love," he finishes his sentence with attitude.

"Well, then, prove it. We'll make one after we eat," I say smugly, making him roll his eyes jokingly. As he picks up our plates, signaling that all of the food was done and ready to be enjoyed, "Hungry Heart" by Springsteen begins blaring through the speakers. I throw my head back in joy as his house is filled with the electric guitar and kicking drum.