Chicken Salad

                                    

                                          
A/N: I had NO IDEA what to call this chapter I'm so sorry 
                          
Primrose's POV:
                          
"Are you being serious right now?" Harry yelled. I groaned to myself as I pulled the covers over my face, shielding myself from the morning light and Harry's shouting. "Is there nothing we can do to change it?" He barked, sounding frustrated. Releasing the pillow, I roll over to face the door, and see Harry's shadow in the hallway. "Fine. See you later." He huffed, before storming back into the room.
                          
My eyes immediately locked shut, as Harry approached the bed. I felt him perch on the end of it as I desperately tried to look asleep. He shuffled himself up the bed slightly: throwing his legs on the mattress and rolling on his side to face me. Peeping out my eye, I saw a fuzzy Harry, leaning on his arm, just looking at me. 
                          
"Is everything okay?" I mumble, forcing my sleepy eyes open.
                          
"Shhhh." He hums, placing his finger over my lip. "Go back to sleep, love." He whispered.
                          
"But I'm awake now." I whisper through his finger, looking at him through my sleepy eyes. 
                          
"Did I wake you?" He asks, moving his finger and using it to tuck a loose piece of hair behind my ear. 
                          
"No." I lie, smiling warmly. Harry gives me a playful scowl as if to say 'I-know-you're-lying-to-me'. "Yes." I give in.
                          
"Sorry, P. Just my manager calling me - meetings been pushed up." He complains. 
                          
"When to?" I ask, pushing myself up the bed to sit up. 
                          
"Today." Harry mumbles. "It's for tour. It's finalising the merchandise we'll be selling." He explains briefly. "It was supposed to be next week, that's why you're here now. We had the entire week together. But now the first two days have been filled with fittings and meetings." He says as if he's scolding himself.
                          
I place my hand comfortingly on his bicep, rubbing small circles with my thumb. "Harry..." I say quietly, trying to bring his eyes to focus on mine. "Harry..." I repeat, slightly more stern but still very quiet. His eyes reluctantly drift up to meet mine, and they look tired. His eyes are a pale green, surrounded by a sea of bloodshot. "How long have you been up?" I ask.
                          
"About 30 minutes. I tried to be as quiet as possible." He tells me quietly.
                          
"What time is it?" I question, not breaking my gaze from him.
                          
"About 6:34am." 
                          
"When's the meeting?" I smile, trying to soothe the obvious stress building inside him.
                          
"8:30am-5:00pm." He mumbles.
                          
"Let's get ready then. I'll go and make some coffee and breakfast, you shower and get dressed. And don't even think about offering for me to stay home - I would be more than happy to come with you." I tell Harry, continuing the circles over his arm
                          
"I like this." Harry smirks.
                          
"Like what?" 
                          
"This" Harry waves his hands around me.  "When you're all confident and in control. You have such a diverse, complex personality. I'm enjoying getting to know it. I'm enjoying learning more about you, Prim." He smiles, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss against my lips. I don't have time to say anything, as Harry rolls out the bed and heads straight to the bathroom.