morning

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"Harry, what are you doing?" I mumble as I notice shuffling on the other side of the bed.

"Nothing, love, I just need to have a wee."

"Oh, okay," I say turning to my side.

After a minute or so, the other half of the bed sinks and a gentle arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer.

"Goodnight darling," he says with a light kiss to my neck.

"Goodnight dear."

+++

I look over to the other side of our bed and notice harry has shoved the duvet out of his way before getting out of bed. I drag myself into the bathroom to make sure I look at least slightly alive. as seeing my appearance isn't as horrid as I thought, I walk heavily into the kitchen to see a shirtless harry sitting at the bench by the window with his mug in one hand, mobile in the other. I reach into the pantry for my own mug and fill it half way with the coffee harry has made, and the rest with cream. I slouch over the counter, mug in two hands, and silently watch harry stare intently at his phone.

He's always been so handsome, so lovely. I don't think I've ever met anyone as memorizing as he is. We have this little space here, all to ourselves, here in a city I've always dreamed of living in. Dallas is still so beautiful to me, all the lights at night, the cars zooming by. The reunion tower has never failed to amuse me. I remember the first time I went. Harry took me for one of our dates early in the year. It was nothing like I imagined, the spinning wasn't as noticeable as I thought and the typical crowd I expected was nowhere to be seen. It was fancy, yes, but definitely not white collar. He seemed so nervous that night, I wasn't, surprisingly. Considering my extreme fear of heights, I thought I wouldn't be able to go, but he was much more affected than I.

"You're so beautiful," Harry states simply, knocking me out my flashback. I was so wrapped up in my daydream I hadn't noticed he was staring at me too.

"I still can't believe I struck you most out of all those girls. I'm really nowhere near as beautiful as they were."

"You know I strongly disagree with that," he says slowly, the way he always does.

"I do, you remind me all the time. But the banter has got to stop, you know I won't change my mind," I say playfully, trying to pull of a smirk only he can accomplish.

Harry's POV

"You're so beautiful," I say, snapping her back into reality. She never directly denies it, but she never agrees either. I know she's too polite to agree, such a darling. God, I love her. I have since the glance I got before shoving my way into a cab. As soon as I saw her, I took her hand and pulled her in with me, she had called that cab before me anyway. Once we were in the backseat together I had no idea what to do, what to say. I selfishly assumed that she already knew who I was, so I started telling her that I'm not some 'manwhore' or 'womanizer'. during my little story time in the cab, she was so intent listening to me, her expression only morphing into confusion when I said the words that cut like knives. She is one of few who believe me, and for that I'm so grateful.

"I still can't believe I struck you most out of all those girls. I'm really nowhere near as beautiful as they were," she says. She's such a dear.

"You know I strongly disagree with that." she melts, and I don't know if it's the words themselves or the way she's always been enchanted by my voice.

"I do, you remind me all the time. But the banter has got to stop, you know I won't change my mind." That little smirk is what sets fire to this unending spark.

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