sixty six.

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Sunday mornings felt cozy. They felt like, regardless of weather, the sun was that little bit clearer and the wind was a little bit gentler. Sunday mornings felt restorative. They felt like, no matter what had happened to you, there was hope it would get better.

I liked Sunday mornings, especially when they were dubbed 'pajama only days' by Harry. We stayed in bed until the last possible moment, until both our stomachs were growling with rage and a need to be filled. Only then would we move from our bed, make something for breakfast and then we would tiptoe back to bed and eat there.

Once we had eaten and our bowls had been discarded, we would cuddle up again and watch some stupid rom-com on Harry's laptop.Very rarely we actually managed to watch the entire thing, whether it be falling back to sleep or just enjoying the company of one another.

After we had watched a movie, usually by this time we had heard Clem's footsteps patter down the hallway and into the living room. It's generally about 12:30pm before we would make our way out of our room and into the living room. Then we would converse with a very groggy and angry-to-be-awake Clem for a little bit before we ended up heading to the Chinese takeaway in our pajamas for lunch.

Our little domestic routine really amplified the sense of permanency I felt. Everything about how we lived and operated seemed to come naturally to the two of us that now, it was as if we had been doing this for years.

I still hadn't decided what 'this' was, my heart knew what it wanted but my head was telling me to wait. I loved that idiot and the thought of denying him of what he wanted hurt me, but I needed to protect myself as well. He said I was the boss and that it was up to me what we were and what we did, so I was going to take my time.

He seemed happier on these Sunday mornings, there was this youthful glow about him. His cheeks were always tinted a light pink and his eyes held a childlike spark in them, like through his eyes anything was possible.

So sitting on Harry's cream couch with his hands tangled in my hair, Clem sitting on the armchair in the reading nook engaging in conversation with Harry, my head was resting in Harry's lap and my hands were tracing shapes on his thighs.

"-Adrian's coming a little later and we're going out for food. So you guys will have a free house." Clem's eyebrows raised in suggestion, before she dropped one eye to wink at me. Harry let out a groan and threw a pillow in Clem's direction but missed her and it ended up hitting his neatly stacked bookshelf.

Their conversation continued on but I didn't really pay much attention to what they were saying. I was purely focused on the way his fingers felt as they scratched lightly against my scalp and twisted strands of my hair. I could only bring my eyes to look at the way my fingers moved against the plaid pajama pants he donned, thigh muscles tight against the material. He was invading all my senses, he was all I could ever be able to see or hear or feel.

By 3:45pm, the rhythmic scratching through my hairline was daring to lull me back to sleep. I made the executive decision that I needed to do something to prevent drooling all over Harry's lap as I napped on the couch. I excused myself from the conversation I wasn't a part of and headed to the shower.

Over the last little while, I had discovered that Harry's shower was far better than the main bathroom. The size, the pressure, even the towels were just better in here. I didn't hurry to get out, I ended up staying in the shower for well over a half hour before I exited and wrapped myself in one of Harry's giant towels. His towels were so big that they were able to make someone of my size feel engulfed, it was remarkable how something so simple could ease your worries just a little.

After standing and pondering life's greatest questions in the bathroom, I headed for Harry's - well our - walk in wardrobe and got dressed. Harry and Clem were still where I had left them, Harry now sprawled out across the couch and Clem still comfortable on the armchair.

Harry extended his arms while maintaining eye contact to let her know he was listening to her. Almost as if there was a giant magnet pulling me towards him, I was in front of him within seconds. No matter how reassuring and patient he was, I still struggled with the idea of laying on top of him like he was suggesting I do right now. He would constantly tell me that if it hurt or wasn't comfortable, he wouldn't keep offering.

Hesitantly, I sat my knees on either side of his thighs before laying down and burying my face in his shoulder. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me even closer to him, silently asking me to stop trying to keep my full weight off of him. It was peaceful, even though Clem and Harry had started bickering between one another. They continued to 'fight' but again, I couldn't force myself to listen to the whole thing.

A loud knock at the door startled me initially, but considering the two siblings were heavily immersed in their conversation, I took the liberty of getting up to answer it. I assumed it was just Adrian because we were expecting him to arrive soon, but usually he knocked and walked straight in.

The knocking got more persistent and urgent the closer I got, instinctively I walked faster to try and figure out who was at the door and why they lacked patience.

"I'm coming, keep your pants on." I called up the hallway, I had run out of my own patience by this point.

I finally reached the front door and swung it open but I was not prepared for the sight behind it.

Michael was standing at the front door with an absent look on his face, his hands were ripped open at the knuckles and there was blood splattered across his clothes. My eyes widened in shock and I almost cut my jaw on the floor with how quick it fell open. I couldn't keep my eyes on one particular thing, jumping from the blood to his blank eyes to the busted knuckles.

"Oh my god, Michael. What happened? Harry!" My tone was gentle as I addressed Michael but held my fear as I called over my shoulder.

"I had to."

"What's going on? Holy fuck, mate! You alright? What happened?" Harry was frantic, instantly losing his cool at the situation.

"Hey, Michael. You had to what? It's ok, you can talk to us." I didn't want to touch him just in case he reacted negatively but I did feel the need to extend some kind of support.

"I had to. I didn't mean for it to be so bad but I had to." His breathing hitched and a single tear fell down his face, smudging the blood.

"He hurt her."

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