Trust [h.s.]

XIII

When my eyes fluttered open later that evening, I was met by a savory aroma wafting through the air, dancing throughout the space in sweet-smelling whirls that warmed me to my core. I released a lazy breath as I let my head roll to the side, expecting to find Harry's piercing eyes blinking back at me, but instead, being met with a blank space where he once lay. I assumed he was cooking something down in the kitchen, and rather than rushing to him, I allowed myself to wallow in silence for a few proceeding moments.

My mind immediately drifted to the events of nearly hours prior to my awakening, images of Harry's flushed cheeks and parted lips projecting across the crowded walls of my brain. A blush rose to my cheeks and something in my stomach tightened as I thought of Harry's lips on mine, his fingers pleasuring me, his hot breath fanning across my skin as he explored the pale flesh. I could still hear his raspy tone ringing in my ears, soft moans escaping his lips as our kisses deepened.

I knew I was absolutely mental for allowing those sinful actions to take place, with Harry of all people. I knew I should fear him, hate him, loathe him for all that he'd done to me, but instead, I found a lazy smile tugging at my lips at the very thought of him. I was confused about him myself. One minute, we hated each other; screaming and yelling and avoiding the other for days on end. But every once in a while, we would share a moment so deep, so passionate, so connecting, that seemingly all lingering animosity would fade away. It was moments as such that made me resent Harry as well as yearn for him. There was a darkness within him that starkly juxtaposed the glimpses of light that shone through every once in a while, making him nearly impossible to ever read, but an incredible mystery to solve. I couldn't articulate a word or phrase that could accurately describe my feelings toward him, but that was possibly due to the fact that they shifted almost hourly. I decided not to ponder it any longer, and hopped out of bed, tugging my pants back up my legs, then heading downstairs.

"Well, it looks like Sleeping Beauty has finally emerged from her slumber." Harry teased playfully as I walked into the kitchen, a pleasant grin tugging at his full lips as his eyes caught mine. There were multiple pots and pans on the warm stovetop, sizzling and crackling above the ignited heat of the fire, making my stomach growl hungrily. It smelled even better than it did upstairs.

"I need my beauty rest," I played along, my tone matching his light one. "How else would I look so gorgeous all the time?" I joked, causing Harry to chuckle to himself.

"I was wondering how you always did that."

"So, what're you making?" I changed the subject, hopping up on one of the barstools that overlooked the island separating Harry and me. His back was facing me, his curly hair unruly and wild, looking as though he only just emerged from bed moments before.

"Chicken tikka masala." He stated proudly, reaching out for a large wooden spoon, then swirling it around his mouthwatering concotion that rested temptingly atop the stove.

"Mmm." I hummed, lifting my nose in the air and allowing the various spices and flavorings to invade my senses. I soaked them up, closing my eyes momentarily as the delicious scents drew past my nostrils. "Smells amazing."

"It tastes better than it smells." Harry smiled, turning the knob of the stovetop, halting the production of fire. "You ready to eat?"

"Definitely." I grinned back.

I grabbed two plates for us, then proceeded to shovel food on top of mine. I added spoonfuls of rice, chicken, sauce, and all other additives to my delectable meal. Harry followed suit, and just as I was about to make my way towards the dining room, Harry stopped me.

"Um, I was thinking..." He cleared his throat, evidently uncomfortable from the self-consciousness that momentarily plagued him. "Maybe we could, I dunno, eat this upstairs. Watch a movie, or somethin'."