Rose Colored Glasses | HS AU

The Wedding: pt. 2

Josiah demanded that Harry and Cicely let one of his men drive them home, saying that newlyweds didn't walk home after the pub. So instead they ended up getting dropped off at Harry's home, the black car pulling away from the curb and leaving them alone in the dark, quiet night. They still lived in the same home, the same green-wallpaper and small kitchen, but Cicely had made a few updates.

    "C'mere," Harry said, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her body into his.

    "What are you doing?" She said in a harsh whisper when he picked her up, her legs draped over one arm and the other tightly gripping her upper body.

    "What does it look like?" He asked, unlocking the door and pushing it open. "'M carryin' my wife across the threshold."

    Cicely giggled as he stepped inside, crossing the threshold that they had each crossed an innumerable amount of times, but for some reason it felt different. It felt different between Cicely's white wedding dress hung from her body as he set her on her feet, and she held the her veil in her hands so it didn't drag along the floor. It felt different because when Harry's hand pressed into her back, there was a new ring present on his fingers—one that she had placed there.

    Inside, the home was still Harry's, but by this point it was Cicely's as well. Photographs sat on the hall table, ones of the two of them—one from a horserace they'd gone to, Cicely laughing into Harry's chest as he held her, another of them at the sea. She'd even put up one of her and her mother in the living room next to the one of Harry and his family—who hadn't been present at the wedding, as much as she had tried to force him to invite them. The bookshelf was littered with Cicely's favorite books and her many bookmarks laid on various surfaces in the house, random scraps of paper that she would tuck between pages. On the floors were rugs that she had picked out at the markets, warming up the house that was now her home.

    In the kitchen was new cutlery and plates and glasses, ones without nicks at the sides. The pantry stayed stocked because suddenly it wasn't just Harry who ate dinner at the small dining table every night, it was Harry and Cicely. Her favorite tea was tucked in next to his in the drawer, and she'd sewn napkins from their old curtains which she had replaced, claiming they needed more color in their home.

    Upstairs, she'd replaced the sheets with a pristine white and the duvet cover was now a dark blue, a soft material she had searched high and low for. In the armoire were her clothes lying next to his, her dresses hung up in the wardrobe and her shoes right alongside his. On the bedside table was Cicely's favorite photograph: one she had had Pippa take on their front steps when they'd gotten back from the sea, a rare smile on Harry's face as he looked at Cicely, their eyes both filled with love.

    Now, Cicely leaned against the banister and looked at her husband, her eyes drawing down his body as he locked the front door behind them. "Why are ya starin' at me?" He asked, stepping towards her, the whiskey and beer making his accent more prominent and his words clipped at the end.

    "Hmm," she murmured, sliding her palms up his suit jacket. "I was looking at my husband."

    "Were ya now?" Harry's voice was rough as he said the words, his body closing in to hers and pressing her flush against the banister, her back digging into the spindles. "And?"

    "And," she replied, her hands slipping down, fingertips brushing over where she knew the barbells sat under his clothing, taking joy in the hollow groan that fell from his lips. "I think I'd like to undress him."

    The sounds that slid from Harry's mouth were sinful, a combination of curses that she would never allow him to say in front of their children, her name, and wordless, broken, moans. "Would you like to do that here or upstairs?" He asked, leaning in and brushing his lips to her jawline, nipping at the thin skin that covered her bone, reveling in the gasp that left her. "Your choice, love."