Canyon Moon | H.S.

The Best Policy (30)

My eyes squint as I open them, adjusting to the sunlight streaming in the large windows. For a second I'm back at the house, waking up wrapped around Harry, before I suddenly remember I'm in LA. Still waking up wrapped around Harry though, and that fact is enough to make me giddy.

I look at the sleeping form next to me, his chest still rising and falling gently in sleep. I partly expected him to leave as soon as I fell asleep, but it seems he dropped off before he could. He's still in his trousers and t-shirt from the day before.

I take the opportunity to just watch him, reminding myself of everything I've missed.

The short hair suits him. I can't decide if it makes him look older or younger, but I think older. More mature. He's done so much in two years, he's practically a different person. I've done absolutely nothing. Apart from pine after him.

His skin is beautifully tanned, even more golden than it already was, the edges of his hairline showing his true, paler skin tone. Living in LA will do that to you, I guess. His hair looks lighter too, probably also from the sun, and it makes his dark eyelashes stand out even more so on his face.

It's warm in the room, and the tops of his cheeks are brushed with pink. I stare closer and can see faint freckles across his nose. His lips are practically the same colour as his cheeks, and still look so soft.

He's so beautiful it hurts. I've never seen a more beautiful man than him.

"I can feel you staring."

I jump slightly as his deep, morning voice rumbles from his chest, his eyes still closed. I was so distracted I didn't notice his breathing change.

"How long have you been awake?" I ask, slowly starting to sit up. He opens his eyes and blearily looks at me. Not long then.

"Couple of minutes, maybe." He says, stifling a yawn and reaching up to rub his eyes. He's fucking adorable. I tear my eyes away from him and get up from the bed, instantly feeling the loss of his body heat.

"I'll just freshen up and then I'll go and make some breakfast." I say, turning towards the bathroom door.

"Don't be ridiculous," he says, now sitting up, "It's my house. I'll make us breakfast, bacon and eggs alright?"

I nod gratefully and walk into the bathroom. My reflection stares back at me in the mirror, and I almost gasp.

I barely recognise myself. Not because I look different, nothing's physically changed about me in the past two years except my hair getting slightly longer. My eyes are still slightly puffy from crying yesterday, and my hair needs a brush. That's not it.

There's a smile on my face. 

I didn't even realise I was smiling. I avoid looking in the mirror at home, mainly because I don't go out much, but I know it's been a long time since I've looked happy. God knows Bekah's called me a sour-puss enough times.

God Nat, you're in so deep. I can already feel my heart rate start to pick up just at the thought. There's nothing to do though but be honest and hope he feels the same way.

I join him downstairs, now in some shorts and a t-shirt. We eat breakfast quietly at the kitchen island, enjoying the view of the morning outside. After we've finished he gestures for us to go and sit on the sofa together, and I can feel my hands start to get clammy.

I try to discreetly rub them on my shorts.

"Right, um." He looks nervous, running his hand through his short hair, sitting facing me on the other end of the sofa.

"I said we'd talk, but I, um... I don't really know how to start said talk." I can't help but give him a small smile.

The question that's really on my mind is whether he currently has a girlfriend or not. I can't get it out of my head, and I don't want to get my hopes up, but I bite my tongue.