someficsorsummat - Tumblr blog

someficsorsummat · 5 years

Text

Somewhere in the house, someone was awake. The stove clicked and the coffee pot clanked despite the fact that the sun was barely high enough to light more than half the sky. They were clearly making an effort to stay quiet, whoever they were, but with the Sandman’s sand losing its power, even the cars speeding up the road in front of the house were as loud as thunder.

The bouquet on the nightstand was as fragrant as it had been the day before, and the leaves were only slightly wilted from its manhandling. Unconventional as it might have been, it was yours to keep, and you were glad for it. Remnants of your trousseau littered the tabletop next to the flowers, including the silver sixpence Harry had proudly furnished and placed in your shoe himself.

“Nan saved a few,” he said when he was on his knees in front of you with your skirt flung high over yours. “Mum got this one and she let me have it for you — real silver, too.”

“Think seeing me will negate its luck?” you asked cheekily and he grinned up at you with a roguish wink.

“How’s that feel?” he asked.

You wiggled your toes in the shoe and nodded.

“Right.” Harry kissed both your knees before standing with a groan. “I’m off then.”

“See you.”

Soon enough. Soon enough, you’d have to drag yourself and him from bed so you could skate across the chilly hardwood floor and slink downstairs to the coffee and pastries and people who would be waiting to see you with their knowing smiles and eager, well meant chatter that was enough to make you want to hibernate until next year. Soon enough, you’d have to share him, again, on a day where he should belong to only you.

You closed your eyes and nuzzled your cheek against the sturdy pillow of his body, his t-shirt worn, warm, and soft on your skin. His heartbeat filled one ear and you listened as intently as you would to the ocean inside a shell, willing its muted glugglug… glugglug… glugglug… to lull you back to sleep. You couldn’t have gone to sleep more than a few hours ago, and today of all days you deserved more time for a lie in.

“What time is it?”

Harry drew his hand up your arm and squeezed at the top and you pulled your leg up higher over his thighs under the duvet.

“Early,” you rasped. “We can go back to sleep.”

Your eyes flew open when his chest expanded suddenly and he yawned ferociously.

“Shh,” you admonished.

“What?” he asked. You lifted your head and squinted at him through one eye. As awful as you must look, he surely matched you. Though he’d shaven yesterday, stubble was sprouting along his jaw, chin, and cheeks, and his neatly styled hair was half on end from how he’d smashed his head into his pillow all night long. He, too, was squinting at you, and you knew he needed new glasses even if he wouldn’t let you convince him.

“You’re going to let them know we’re awake,” you whispered. “Then we’ll have to go down there.”

“Says who?”

You huffed and settled down against him once more, scratching his chest through his shirt. His opposite hand covered yours entirely and you warmed when he ran his thumb over the simple band on your left ring finger.

“Yesterday was nice. Wasn’t it?”

Throat tight, you nodded. “It was. Think they liked it.”

“Did you?”

You nodded again. “You?”

He brought your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Think I made out alright.”

Your lips quirked. “Yeah… I think so, too.”

He barked a laugh and you quieted him with a harsh shh through your own, squirming and wriggling until your nose was pressed into his cheek. “You laugh too loud,” you said, muffled by his face.

“Married me anyway,” he said. Sleep was wearing out of his voice and he was getting increasingly careless with his volume. “Remember, darling — for better or worse, an’ that includes when y’make me laugh like a—”

“Shh—!” You squeaked when he pulled you on top of him and he grinned lecherously, hands resting just above your ass.

“Like this,” he mumbled.

“Of course you do,” you said. “We haven’t consummated anything, you know.”

“So?”

“One word: annulment.”

His brow furrowed and his lip jutted out. “You’re a brat, did y’know that?”

You kissed his chin pertly and smiled. “For better or worse,” you reminded him.

He chucked you under the chin and you grasped his fingers, eyes falling to the sole ring he’d kept on overnight.

“Stop,” you whined when he tried to pull his fingers out of your hold. “I wanna see.”

“See what?” he asked and you shushed him yet again but he let you lift his hand closer for the show of an inspection you were giving. “Worried they gave us the wrong one?�� Harry chuckled. “Fits anyway — reckon we can just keep it.”

He fell silent when you kissed the knuckle of his ring finger and smiled close mouthed against it.

“Happy?” he whispered, a vulnerable echo of the question he’d asked you repeatedly the night before — at the altar, in the loo when he’d cornered you there to have, “Five minutes with my wife,” in your ear during your first dance, and in your ear when you were on his lap at the end of the night when the stars blinked down above the twinkle lights strung through the garden, buzzed and content.

“No,” you said and his mouth quirked.

“Figured.”

Soon enough the sky turned the lightest shade of blue and you could no longer justify holing yourselves away in your bedroom. Both your parents would be up by now, and it was only right to show your faces and spare yourselves the looks that knew nothing but pretended they did. Soon enough, but for right then, you laid there, husband and wife, for better or worse.

1 note · View note