I Knead You (Narry)

Prologue: Knead to Know

Harry's favorite time of the day is the morning.

He blindly reaches for the phone on the small table next to his bed that is ringing loudly, cutting through the silent room. He squints, the bright light straining his eyes. His room is pitch black, like it always is when he's awoken by his phone at 4:00 in the morning. He's used to it by now.

He presses the off button and sits up in his big, comfortable bed. He lets out a yawn as he stretches, a few of his limbs cracking as he does so. He swings his feet off of his bed and shivers when they touch the cold hardwood floor beneath his feet.

He stumbles towards his bathroom, pushing the long curls from his face as he makes his way to the ensuite, reminding himself to get a haircut as soon as he finds the time.

When he flips the light switch on he groans and quickly squeezes his eyes shut. It takes him a minute to adjust to the new lighting, but when he does he turns the shower on. He kicks his boxers off and uses one hand to test the warmth of the water before he steps in fully, reveling in the feeling beating down on his tan skin.

Harry washes his chestnut locks and then rubs the suds falling from his hair over the rest of his figure, having run out of body wash a couple days ago. He adds that to the growing list of things he needs to get done.

He finishes his shower rather quickly, shutting the tub off and stepping out. He grabs the towel hanging perfectly from the rack on his way out and brings it to his head to dry his soaking wet hair. He continues back into his room, not caring that there's water dripping from his limbs, still littered with droplets.

He slips, due to his damp feet on the smooth floor but quickly regains his balance. His heart is racing now, and if the shower wasn't enough to wake him up, he's sure alert now.

He doesn't move, actually taking the time to dry the rest of his body off so he doesn't have another slip-up – literally. When he is finished with the task, he tosses the towel carelessly towards his hamper. It hits the wall and slides down into the basket perfectly.

Harry opts for wearing his favorite outfit to work in; a plain white t-shirt and his favorite black skinny jeans. They're not as dark as they were when he'd brought them, having been through the wash almost daily to rid the pants of the days work. New pair of jeans, added to the list.

He pulls his hair into a sloppy knot at the top of his head while he exits his room and goes to his kitchen. He groans when he opens the almost empty fridge. He really needs to go shopping. Harry grabs the last yogurt and a plastic spoon from the drawer before moving to his front door.

He places his breakfast down on the table by the entryway, bending down to grab his worn brown boots that he loves so much. He always kicks them off by the front door when he gets home from work, not wanting to bring a mess into his flat.

Finally, he stuffs his wallet into the other back pocket that isn't occupied by his phone, picks up his keys from the bowl on the table and his breakfast, and leaves his home for the long day of work ahead of him.

Harry hums as he descends the stairs to the street. He breaks the seal on his yogurt and licks the lid clean before tossing it away in a nearby trash can.

There's a content smile on Harry's face as he eats and walks, loving how quiet the world is at this time of the morning. The birds are hardly even awake at this hour.

He used to get an uneasy feeling, leaving from his house to walk to work before the sun had even risen, but the streetlights provided enough brightness, and after having done it so many times he was confident that he'd make it without any trouble.

He finally reaches his work and he stands outside, one hand on his hip, smiling up at the painted logo on the glass window, reading: "Knead to Know."

He laughs to himself, still proud of his handiwork. The sign wasn't perfect, some of the lines a little squiggly, but he'd done it himself. This was his place and he had put his all into every aspect of the place, and he wouldn't trade that for the world.

He unlocks the front door of the shop and the bell rings when he enters, re-locking the door behind him since the shop won't be open for another hour or so. He walks through his place, admiring the cozy feeling that radiates off of the decor. His heart swells with joy.

Harry tosses his empty yogurt container into the large garbage can in the kitchen and gets to work on the morning breads. He mixes together the ingredients for his award-winning bagels in one his of industrial mixers before starting another mixer for his walnut banana bread.

His music plays softly in the background, Harry singing along to it every once in awhile, lost in his own world while getting his shop ready for the day. He takes the time while his breakfast treats are in the oven to count the money in the cash register and to make sure his store is ready for the morning rush.

He washes up the dirty dishes and checks his inventory before updating his list of breads he needs to make today. He also takes the time to write down his shopping list as well so that he doesn't forget what else he has to do after work.

When the bread is done, he pulls it out of the oven and sets it on the cooling rack, then refills the now empty oven once more.

The kitchen warms as he works and Harry inhales deeply, loving the smell of his shop early in the morning.

He wouldn't want to be anywhere else.