what. a. fucking. day. harry had yet to come down from the adrenaline rush from the workday — his hand trembled lightly as he unlocked the door to the townhouse he shared with cecelia, his legs did as well from walking up the stairs. why? he had never had this issue before. his arm still hurt like hell, but thanks to antonia, he would live to see another day. truth was, he didn’t regret his decision to, um, outsource. although it wasn’t pleasant to actively seek out someone he wasn’t particularly fond on, he still was infinitely grateful they’d helped, when they could’ve just shut the door in his face.
he had no idea what time it was. based on the lit streetlights, though, he figured it was late... or maybe it wasn’t. short winter days were still happening, so there was some hope he wasn’t actually ridiculously late with a nonfunctional arm. his heart raced still as he entered the home, the hallway lights on, and the living room’s too. puzzled, he walked slowly into the latter, his eyes dilating when his gaze landed on his fiancée. without hesitation, he took a stride towards her, wrapped his good arm around her waist and pulled her into a kiss. “are the children asleep?” he asked softly into her ear, before kissing her cheek. no greeting, no nothing — he went straight to the point.
(@cwindsr)