Awakening to the sun streaming through my window, I take a deep breath and relax my muscles, sinking into the mattress. I stare at the ceiling, intently watching the shadows of the trees outside move across the plaster. It was such a peaceful morning, and I was thankful to have a day off from work. It was such a relief to have a day where you can just sit back, enjoying the little things in life. It's what life is all about.
The shadows shift and dart across the ceiling, indicating it was a breezy day. I look back over to the window, where sunlight continued to pour in at a steady rate. I could see the dust particles float in the light, dancing around until they eventually land on the carpet.
The silence in the bedroom was abruptly broken by the clang of pots and pans downstairs. I swear, Hazza was such a clutz. I ignore the unsettling noises coming from the kitchen, redirecting my attention to the soothing aroma of English tea. Harry must be making some. A soft smile forms on my face as I hear Harry swear like a sailor.
"Shit. How the hell am I supposed to clean this up?" I hear him groan.
I quietly giggle at how ridiculous he sounded. It's tea for fuck's sake. It wasn't complicated.
"Louis is going to kill me."
I giggle again, this time out of admiration. He was always so worried he was going to get me mad, as if spilling tea would somehow affect how I feel about him. But I guess he was right to worry a little bit. I'll be rather pissed if I have to clean it up for him.... again.
I relax into the mattress again, attempting to alleviate the tension in my lower neck and back. I close my eyes for a split second, only to be interrupted from my serenity by another crash.
I sigh, turning my head to see what time it was. The alarm clock on the night stand said it was 9:00 am. I would have preferred to sleep a bit later, but judging by Harry's groans, I figured I should go and see what was wrong. My Hazza seemed to be in distress.
Slowly sitting up, I gently wipe the sleep out of my eyes. I let out a yawn as I stretch my legs. I place my feet on the floor, pushing my body off of the mattress. I let out a sharp yelp as a shooting pain rushed down my spine. Fuck.
Limping my way to the door, I can hear Harry talking to himself. It was one of his many stupid habits, and it was quite annoying at times. But I didn't pay much attention to it. If Harry could forgive my habit of frequently teasing him, then I guess I could live with him talking to himself on occasion.
I make my way down the hall, suddenly regretting our decision not to put carpet all over the house. The wood floor felt like ice on my feet, sending sparks of pain up my legs. I stretch my arms out, placing my hands on the walls, hoping it will help me make it to the stairs.
Every step I took, I felt the pain grow in intensity. Pain was rapidly shooting down my spinal cord, branching off into my other limbs. It was at times like this that I regret playing charity football matches. I was always sore for a week after the game, my frail back being the worst.
Finally, I reach the top of the steep staircase. Firmly grasping onto the railing, I lower my foot down onto the first step. Excruciating pain echoed throughout my body, leaving me out of breath. I wail in hurt, my whole body throbbing. I cringe as the back of my neck felt like it was being torn off.
"Motherfucker," I hiss under my breath.
"Lou, is that you?" Harry calls from the kitchen, the ruckus of noise coming to a halt.
"Yeah! Can you come here for a moment?" I shout, shutting my eyes. The pain was unbearable. I squeeze the railing as hard as I can, hoping to distract myself from it.
"Lou!" Harry says in a panic, rushing up the stairs to assist me. "What's wrong?"
"It-it-it h-hurts," I stutter, on the brink of tears. Harry places his hand on my back, making it worse. "Owww!" I screech, making Harry's eyes grow wide. He quickly pulls his hand away.
"I'll carry you down, okay?"
I nod, ashamed. I shouldn't have to be carried down the stairs by Harry. He gently places his arms behind my leg and my middle back, sweeping me off the ground. The pain in my back grew exponentially, but I bit my lip to stop myself from making a fuss. Harry descends the staircase, slowly placing each foot on the steps, making sure he had his footing. He held me tightly, hugging my body to his chest. I breathe in his scent, smelling a combination of tea and sugar. I smile to myself as he gently places me on the carpeted living room floor.
I was so fucking relieved that Harry tricked me into getting carpeting. Although it was two years ago, and the carpet was a bitch to clean up, I couldn't describe how soothing it felt after the harshness of the wooden floor.
"Thanks," I whisper, placing a soft peck on his cheek. Harry flashes a warm smile, showing off his dimples.
"No problem," he says, kissing my forehead. He brushes my hair to the side, tucking a couple of strands behind my ear.
He wraps his warm arms around me, pulling me into a tender embrace. I lean my head into his chest, closing my eyes. I could feel Harry hovering over me, Harry eventually placing a few pecks on the top of my head. We stand there, in the middle of the living room, each savoring this moment, never wanting it to end.
"You know, I'm getting kind of hungry," Harry says, pulling away.
I laugh at his appetite. Harry was the type of guy who would stop in the middle of anything to get food.
"You're an idiot," I remark.
"That may be true, but I'm your idiot."
Harry nonchalantly leads the way to the kitchen, while I sluggishly trail behind. My pain was overshadowed by my thoughts. Harry was mine.
And I was his.
I grin at the thought. By some miracle, we've managed to love each other unconditionally for four years.
And I hope it lasts forever.