Platonic [H.S] (Book 1)

14 | Secret Plans

The celebration of Anne and Robin's wedding carried on into the early hours of the morning. It was past three in the morning when Gemma, Niall, Eliza, Harry and I tumbled through the doorway of the bungalow in a loud and laughing mess. We all had a cup of tea together to sober up, and I recall Niall and Eliza bickering over who was going to sleep in his bed and who was going to take the couch.

By the time we finished our teas, Niall and Harry were coming down from their alcohol-induced highs, and I helped Harry to bed while Eliza did the same with Niall. Gemma left us to our own devices in getting both boys to bed. I woke up on the other couch across from her this morning, despite Harry's protests for me to stay with him, figuring it would be best to leave him on his own. This morning when I tiptoed down the hallway to check on him, I found Niall's bedroom door open where he and Eliza were sharing the bed with a pillow wall between them.

There is no doubt in my mind that the pillow wall would have been Eliza's insistence, and I was not at all surprised to find them that way. It seems as though Harry's intuition about the two of them was right. Something between Niall and Eliza just clicked. You wouldn't even think that they just met last night from the way that they are already so comfortable around each other.

Anne and Robin arrived back home from their overnight stay in Congleton by the time we were all awake and halfway ready for the day. While Harry and Niall were slow to get ready, I took the very quick drive home with Harry's Range Rover to pack for the weekend and say goodbye to Mum and Dad. I returned to Anne and Robin's house to pick Harry up, and he loaded the car with his bags after saying his goodbyes since he won't be home for the next two months. We're just about ready to make the drive back to London now, and as expected, I am the one that got stuck driving.

We're in the driveway of the bungalow, waiting for Niall. Harry has remained seated in the passenger seat in silence with his Ray Bans covering his eyes. He's resting his head in his hand with his arm against the window. His other hand clutches the bottle of water that Anne gave him earlier as though it is the most precious object in the world, which makes me smile.

It never goes unnoticed when Harry is quiet. I often get the vibe from him that he is in his head too much. Especially so when he stares off into space with a deep frown on his face. But right now, I can sense that his silence is due to his level of exhaustion and hangover that must be giving him a pounding headache.