#ahhhh he just knowssssss

[monicaalexandraaa]

Oh how I loveeeeeee these two🥰🥰

Independent Extra I

Read Independent here | ~3k words

From me: not sure how I feel about this, but I've missed them and it may have gotten some juices flowing to do more.

Warnings: a little bit of insecurity/angst but otherwise very fluffy (I hope it will make you want Harry even more if that is possible.)

“Jus’ thinking I might not be this sweet forever?” He smiled. She looked at her lap, her cheeks flaming bright red. “S’okay, Poppy. Y’don’t have a reason t’believe any man that they won’t,” he shrugged. “Jus’ promise you’ll let me prove y’wrong, yeah?”

Harry felt like he was on the defensive. It was unfortunate that he was feeling sick when she had confessed that she was in love with him too. After all that time he had waited to hear those words, he wished he was in a better headspace.

But when they returned to their apartment, she started to look at him, analyzing him while he opened the door. Barefoot. Because he was so worried about her, he couldn’t even put on his shoes. But she noticed his normally glowing and pretty complexion was a bit pale. His eyes seemed a little red and the pucker between his eyebrows made it look like he was in pain. “Are you sick?” She sniffled—remnants from the crying last night. Plus, she knew she was on her way to her own cold because her body was achy in a way that sleep didn’t fix. So, it was only reasonable that she had inadvertently gotten Harry sick as well. Her eyes narrowed, scrutinizing him as if she knew he was going to lie.

He smiled weakly stepping into their place. “Ah... yeah. I think so. Jus’ a bit, though. Nothing t’worry ‘bout.”

“Oh, for the love of...” she sighed. “Go lay in bed,” she ordered.

“Honestly, Poppy, s’not so bad.”

She frowned. “You...” she swallowed. “You came to get me even though you weren’t feeling well?”

“T’be fair, kitten. You weren’t feeling well either,” he shrugged putting his keys on the little table inside the entryway.

Her heart felt heavy. She felt loved. Which was supposed to be perfect because Harry really felt different. But there was a flicker of doubt and a sense of the it won’t last forever in her head that she wanted to snuff out.

“I’m fine,” she deflected. “I’m going to get you some medicine—”

“Poppy,” Harry said sternly, despite the fact that he looked tired, even after sleeping for so long. “I am a grown man,” he assured her. “M’glad y’want to take care of me. S’an honor. But m’not going t’let you think s’how it’s going t’be,” he explained. “I can get m’own medicine. I will lay down, but you’re going t’lay down with me,” he pulled her hand toward him. “Thank you, for worrying ‘bout me,” he kissed the center of her forehead and let his lips linger there.

God, she wanted to kiss him.

“I want t’kiss you, but m’throat is killing me.”

Her want to kiss him was quickly turning into a need. She adored him. “Please let me get you medicine.”

“Go put on something comfy,” he turned her toward the bedrooms, ignoring her need to help him. “Then, come lay with me,” he headed to the kitchen to get medicine. But it didn’t stop her from trying to make things as comfortable as possible for him. After changing into a pair of joggers and a T-shirt that was too big, she gathered some materials for her stay in Harry’s room. She had a stash of cough drops tucked in her bedside table drawer for nights when she couldn’t sleep well due to congestion or allergies. She grabbed her heating pad for aches (typically used for when she had cramps) but she knew it would help the aches they both felt. She went to his room and set the items on his nightstand, and she made her way back toward the kitchen to grab her water bottle, but she bumped into Harry holding two bottles of water instead. He smirked. “Y’can’t help yourself, hmm Poppy?”

She grinned sheepishly. “I don’t think so,” she admitted. “Especially not for you.”

He shook his head, smiled a little brighter, and pushed her gently toward bed. “Y’can watch TV. I’ll sleep through it.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything—”

“Jus’ you,” he murmured tiredly climbing beneath the covers. He draped an arm across her waist, closed his eyes and nestled into his pillow. Gently, she cupped his face, stroking her thumb along his cheek. “Feels nice,” his voice was groggy. She smiled admiring how cute he was, even when sick. His stuffy nose quickly turned his breathing into a light snore. After a few minutes of shamelessly watching him sleep and ogling his face, she snuggled into his other pillow. Maybe if she was feeling a little better herself, she would have continued to try and care for him, making soup, getting a wet cloth for his head, and the like.

But Harry said it wasn’t necessary. Not that she didn’t want to do it, but for the first time in her whole life, she didn’t feel like she had to. Harry wanted her to snuggle and sleep with him. That was enough, right? For now, it had to be. Because she was tired, and she wanted to sleep with Harry because that’s what he wanted.

Plus, she really couldn’t say no to sleeping with her hot new boyfriend.

*

“Pretty, pretty, pretty,” he murmured skimming the back of his finger across her cheek while she slept. She blinked her eyes open, adjusted to the scenery, and she smirked.

“You must be sick because I can’t even imagine what my hair looks like.”

He chuckled, turning his head slightly to cough. “M’not that sick.”

“Do you need anything?” She asked politely.

“No, Poppy. M’perfectly content,” he promised.

“Let me know—”

“I would never deny you the pleasure of helping me, kitten,” he assured her and leaned forward to kiss her temple. “Jus’ needed some sleep.” His complexion did look a lot better, his eyes less sunken. “I am a very lucky guy, Poppy,” he murmured.

“Lucky? I’m pretty sure I got you sick.”

“Mm, but s’because m’close to you.”

Her stomach swooped a bit because she was used to Harry’s flirting and asking her out. But now he was hers. Which sounded a little possessive in her head, and she felt bad because Harry was his own person and yes, she wanted to live in this bed next to him but that didn’t mean he had to give up autonomy for—

“I’ve dreamt ‘bout you in m’bed a little too much,” he admitted, his cheeks turning the lightest shade of pink. “Want you all t’myself.”

She blushed in return. At least the feeling was mutual.

*

“What’s the heart on your calendar?”

Harry wasn’t trying to hide their relationship, but they weren’t being overt about it either. The office (Val and Rachel) had been a bit crazy about the pair of them in general. Once they found out they were a couple, it was going to be difficult to get anything done.

At lunchtime, Harry still gave her space. Unless she asked him to stay, which was difficult for her to do sometimes. But Harry didn’t mind letting her have a moment to herself. They continued not to talk too much during the day. Instead, she found her eyes drifting to his desk where he would smile when he felt his gaze on her. Never breaking from the task that he was working on.

Harry worried silently about her from across the room. You’ve been too close to your screen for a while, kitten. Go for a walk around the office ❤️

Don’t bite off more than you can chew, Poppy. ❤️ Don’t want you to put too much on your plate

Did you eat while I was gone? ❤️

God, she loved him so fucking much.

They didn’t carpool every day either and Harry took care of a lot of the chores around the apartment given she had a second job some nights and he did not. So as worried as she had been about overwhelming Harry with being around him all the time, her anxiety was all for naught.

“Oh, um...” she forgot she drew that on the calendar. She had been lost in the morning debrief from their boss and must have marked their first date with a heart.

“It’s usually a birthday, no?” Hunter asked.

“Yes, right,” she shook her head. “One of my friends from high school...” She hoped the lie wasn’t obvious. “I was thinking about the date and didn’t realize... I guess—” she cleared her throat hoping her overexplaining wasn’t as ridiculous as it sounded.

“Poppy, do y’have the report from yesterday on hand?”

“Yes!” She chirped grateful for the interruption. “Excuse me,” she grabbed a folder that she didn’t need and went to Harry’s desk. He gracefully took it and to his credit, he looked it over with hardly any ounce of lying.

Her phone vibrated. Smooth 😉

🙄 Thank you, I was drowning.

I’m excited for our date. I hope you are too.

Of course I am!

She was also petrified. Due to illness, work, and friends, their first official date was nearly a month after she asked him out. Harry asked her out for over a year. What if it didn’t live up to his expectation? What if she was weird and it was only noticeable on a formal date? What if he decided that loving her was all an illusion? She busied herself with her computer and the next task on her to do list, but her mind was spinning. Fortunately, she had mastered the art of losing her mind and continuing to work without pause.

I’m not going to fall out of love, Poppy. Stop stressing over the date. I’ve waited ages for it. ❤️

She allowed herself to look up at him. How could he see her worry? She was certain she was good at hiding it. It totally threw her that he could see it across the room. Then he was just staring at his own screen as if he hadn’t read her addled mind. He didn’t catch her gaze directly.

But he winked at his screen, smiled, both intended for her despite the fact he didn’t even have to look at her.

*

On the day of the date, she was getting ready, a curling iron wrapped around pieces of her hair, but it was taking twice as long because Joey usually did the curling, but she didn’t want to make a fuss about the date. So now she was listening to Maya vent about her job and wondering if she could look over her resume and cover letter. She was worried she would fall behind schedule and the thought of being late to her own date with the guy she was going on a date within her own apartment was just absolutely unbelievable.

“Ah...” she hissed, catching her finger on the hot iron. “Maya, can you hold on a second? Hunter is calling me,” she shook her hand to get the pain away. “Hunter, it’s after work hours...” she scolded.

“It’s important,” he assured her. “Any chance you could forward me the email with the client information from today’s meeting? I can’t find it and I apparently put this off and now—”

She sighed and headed to her room, hair half up and half curled so she could get her laptop. “I’ll send it now,” she said quietly.

“You’re a lifesaver Mary Poppins,” he assured her with a smile in his voice. “Harry is a lucky guy,” he chuckled.

She felt her cheeks flame. “Goodbye Hunter, don’t talk to me tomorrow.”

She called Maya back as she clicked through her emails. As if she hadn’t hung up, Maya continued ranting. “Jay thinks I’m crazy for wanting to leave but do you know what it’s like to be underappreciated at work? It just feels like a constant cloud over me that I do all of these things—”

She wanted to scream.

“Hey,” Harry’s gentle voice interrupted her worry and stress. She blinked at him. Her hair was a complete mess, and he just smiled.

“Hi Harry!” Maya cheered.

“Hi Maya,” he came closer to her and saw her forwarding the email to Hunter. He rolled his eyes and looked at her pointedly. She shrugged. He shook his head. “How are you?”

“Honestly, not great. I was just explaining how I’m going to quit my job because it makes me feel underappreciated. I’m sure I’m not the only person to ever feel underappreciated at work but—”

Harry was in awe that one of her friends could be so dense like that. “Poppy, y’almost ready?” He asked quietly. On purpose. Her cheeks flamed red even though Maya wasn’t there.

“Shit,” she whispered.

“Ready for what? Are you going on a date?” Maya snorted. But the silence was a beat too long. “Oh! OH MY GOD! JAY!” She screamed.

“Bye Maya,” Harry hung up for her. She sent the email to Hunter and soon her phone was blowing up with alerts. Texts and calls from Maya and Joey. She pinched her fingers to the bridge of her nose.

“Harry,” she frowned. He pulled the phone from her grip and turned it off. Tucked it into his pocket and ignored the calls and messages that started exploding from his phone.

He shrugged. “They were going t’find out eventually. Finish getting ready, kitten,” he closed her laptop shut for good measure and left the room with it in hand.

*

Harry was insistent that he pick the activity, and she could pick the restaurant. He opened her door before she exited the car, kept a hand on her lower back, pulled out her seat at the restaurant, and was the literal perfect gentleman. Not that he hadn’t been the entire time she’d known him, but this was their first official date.

Which meant they didn’t have tons to talk about because they were pretty well versed with one another. But the silence wasn’t awkward, which was nice. Harry rather enjoyed smiling at her, gazing at her.

“You’re stunning,” he smiled so sweetly it melted her heart, her stomach twisted with butterflies beginning to come out. It was exactly as he had said so many months ago. But now it was real. He was telling her how pretty she looked. He was going to pay for her food. Feed her dessert and he prayed he could kiss her everywhere at the end of the night. They shared bites of their food and Harry insisted she have two drinks because she liked it so much. “I’ll take care of you,” he winked.

When they left the restaurant, Harry placed a hand on her lower back again, guiding her toward their activity. “I am pretty unartistic,” she warned him as he helped tie her apron around her waist. “Like if creative is a trait that you look for in a girlfriend you might need to look elsewhere.”

He chuckled and pulled her hair gently from the loop of the apron that went around her neck, he brushed his thumb on her cheek. “M’sure s’not true, Poppy. Y’decorate so cutely,” he reminded her and quickly put his own apron on. Everything about Harry was gentle and soft.

Was it awful of her to remind herself that these little things might not last forever? That the door opening, the lower back touch, the fixing her hair might not be long term. It wasn’t really fair to Harry. Give him a chance to fall out of love with her, right?

“M’having a really lovely time, Poppy,” he told her. They were sitting at a table meant for four. Each on one side of a corner so they couldn’t see either working. Harry reached for her leg and squeezed her thigh. Calming all worry and racing thoughts.

“Me too,” she smiled. Because she was. Dinner was delicious and it was kind of him to pay for it (even though he said he was going to anyway). The painting was fun. Harry looked handsome as ever. His hair was perfectly styled, and it looked like he ironed his shirt for the occasion. He was pretty to look at. Even at the office, it was hard to keep her eyes from darting over to him at every moment.

“Yeah?” He breathed a sigh of relief, his smile growing.

“Oh goodness, do I not look like I’m having fun? I am, I promise. Dinner was great and even though I’m bad at it, I love painting,” she assured him. “I think I’m just—”

“Jus’ thinking I might not be this sweet forever?” He smiled. She looked at her lap, her cheeks flaming bright red. “S’okay, Poppy. Y’don’t have a reason t’believe any man that they won’t,” he shrugged. “Jus’ promise you’ll let me prove y’wrong, yeah?” He stood up briefly and pressed a kiss to her temple so sweetly. “I like the way y’did your trees,” he pointed immediately. Like he was actively trying to draw her attention away from his very accurate statement. “Looks pretty, we can put it in m’room,” he rubbed his hand up and down her back soothingly before he sat down again.

“How do you read my mind like that?” She asked.

His grin was a little devilish, mischievous, like he knew he was trouble for being such a good boyfriend and it was only their first official date. “Been trying t’read your mind for a year, kitten,” he shrugged watching his canvas and listening to the woman at the front teach the next step.

She stood up and stepped closer to him, gently tilting his head toward her so she could kiss his cheek. When she turned to see his painting, she wished she could have been surprised, but it made sense that Harry hadn’t painted what the woman was doing at the front of the room at all, but instead he was painting a vase of poppies.

Harry smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” he chuckled.

“It’s very pretty,” she whispered.

“S’my favorite flower,” he promised.

God, she really hoped he never fell out of love with her.

--

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