The initial bliss had been perforated by an overwhelming confusion of which the right choice to make was for Harry. The only time when his thoughts were truly silenced was when Cerise lay in his arms; and even then, he was broody. He treated her with such unusual gentleness that she had even commented on it a few times, only for him to deny it with a smile and say it was nothing.
Her smile was the greatest intoxication human form could allow, and he desperately longed to brush his own lips against hers. But he had developed patience and tact, and knew that impulsively kissing her would only disconcert them both. So, for a week now, he had simply done nothing.
Harry sat on their bed—yes, it had officially come to be known as theirs now—eating caramel popcorn, a movie in his hand that he wanted to watch with Cerise. Manuela had just picked it up from the store by his request, since he had known Cerise never watched movies and fervently wanted her to see this one.
“Um, Harry?” came her quiet voice. He looked to the right to see her flushed face staring at him, peeking around the door so her whole body was shielded.
“Yeah?” he replied slowly.
She came out, wrapped only in a towel. Her hair was dripping wet and clung to her shoulders and the shape of her hips was well defined behind the purple cotton. Harry hadn’t realized how long he had gone without feeling even half-baked lust until he saw her so, but he managed to keep respectful eye contact.
“Would you mind if I borrowed a shirt from you tonight?” Her tone was nervous, as she hated to ask favors of others—though she so readily gave them herself. “None of my nightgowns are clean, and I don’t—you know what? I’ll just get one from Father’s closet. Never mind,”
“No!” he protested, jumping out of bed. “Let me go find you one!” The thought of her in one of his shirts made him strangely excited.
“Are you sure?” she pressed on, biting her bottom lip.
“Of course I am!” he retorted, quickly walking out of the room and down the hallway to where his closet was. He returned shortly after with a long-sleeved, plaid button-up. “Here,” He handed her the shirt, suppressing an eager grin.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling sweetly up at him. She came out of the bathroom two minutes later, donned in only her undergarments and the shirt, which hung loosely about her and came just two inches above her knees.
“Does it look odd?” she asked him worriedly as she observed his overenthusiastic smile.
“Oddly wonderful,” he murmured breathlessly, opening his arms for her to fall into. She snuggled into him perfectly, as she had become adept at knowing which exact angles and crooks fit perfectly and complemented his. With his free hand, he pressed the play button on the remote.
“Oh, we’re doing movie night?” Cerise remarked, smiling widely up at him at the surprise.
“Yes. I decided it was high time you watched Love Actually.” He grinned down at her and popped a piece of caramel popcorn into her mouth. They returned this favor for the first ten minutes of the movie, until the whole bowl was gone and they were too content to stir and get more.
~
Dawn splashed an array of radiant colors on the wan walls, overflowing onto Cerise’s sun-kissed skin and bathing her luxuriously. She had always loved the sunsets, but whenever Harry was near their awe-striking, demure beauty paled in comparison. Harry was the epitome of all things wondrous in Cerise’s eyes, and she cherished him more than all of the riches of the Earth. Warm tears congregated in her eyes, pleasantly resting there as she wallowed in the gratefulness of his presence. Her nose did not sting; her eyes did not redden and her throat did not constrict. She was shedding the most gloriously happy tears she had ever known, and didn’t even care to wipe them away.
