The Morning After

                                    

                                          
I yawned, slurring in my white sheets as the sun crept through my window. I faintly remembered the night before, in my daze, and reached over to check the time. It was nine fourteen— pretty late for the time I usually woke up. 
I peeled away the covers and slipped on my slippers, before making my way to the kitchen of my flat. My feet padded on the floor and instead of being met with a sleeping Harry, I was met with him... making something? I wasn't entirely sure. I only saw his back hunched over. 
I cleared my throat and he shot around, shooting me a small, awkward smile, "I'm making tea," Hd said, holding up the cup with a nod. 
I chuckled to myself, slotting into the chair at my table. 
"Will the door be unlocked by now?" I asked, reaching over to grab a cereal bar from the bowl in the middle I stuffed into my mouth as Harry placed the cup next to me.
So he could be a gentleman. 
"Should be," He replied, propping himself up against the counter, "Louis' an early bird. Enjoys a run."
I pictured Louis waking everyone up on a morning, going on a run, and it almost made me laugh. 
"A run," I repeated and took a sip of the tea, pleasantly surprised that he'd added sugar.
"What?" Harry furrowed his brows at my expression, pushing himself of the counter to get a closer look, "Is something wrong?"
"No," I chuckled, setting my cup down, "You put the right amount of sugars in, its surprising,"
"Surprising," He repeated, "I could tell you were a sugar girl the second I spoke to you,"
"Not sure if that's an insult,"
Harry smirked, "I think it is,"
I shook my head and took another sip. Harry seemed unusually chipper, probably because he'd spent the night over and was ready to boast to the guys about that. I wouldn't be surprised if he did, but rather he didn't. I wasn't ready for the explosion of messages from Lydia demanding an explanation. 
"I'm not gonna tell anyone I was here," Harry sighed as he placed his cup into the sink and made his way over. He pulled out his cigarettes and looked at me, "Can I smoke in here?"
"Uh, yeah, I suppose," 
I wasn't really bothered about the cigarettes, it's not like my mum was going to walk in and catch him. I always smoked in here, not that it was often. 
I watched him light it and take the drag, before speaking again. 
"I'm not gonna tell them because they'll think we had sex," He shrugged, bluntly as it dangled between his fingers. My tea went down the wrong pipe hearing that, and I coughed a little. 
"Yeah, uh," I coughed again, "Can't the female and male species be friends without sex?"
"Oh, friends?" He repeated with a smirk, "We're not friends,"
"Fine," I said, "Acquaintances,"
"Well, no, they can't," He said, "Have you got an ash tray?"
"I think," 
I got to my feet and scrambled around my kitchen cupboards for a second, trying to find Stans ashtray he was always leaving around. I chuckled at the Gay flag that circled around it. I faintly remember buying it him as a pride present. 
I placed it down next to Harry and he raised an eyebrow and held back his laugh, "Nice,"
"I bought it Stan," I said, settling back into my seat.