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'cuddles for cold noses': an hlwily series drabble

A/N: I’m not too sure where this came from. I think I’m in a cuddly Harry when it’s chilly, kind of a mood. :) Enjoy. 

It’s freezing cold when your eyes drift open in the middle of the night. Even with Harry, the human space heater beside you, when you wake, it’s freezing cold. You wake up realizing that Harry’s snuggled so close, you can feel his breath washing against your forehead. Gentle snores rasping from his throat. You’re curled up on your sides, facing each other -extra tight because your flat’s heat is always on the mend and never working properly. He’s so close, the tip of his nose is brushing yours, his knees, pulled a little to make himself smaller. You’re no longer using your own pillow, but rather a corner of his.

There’s lamplight coming through the curtains as you ask in a soft whisper, “Harry, are you awake?” Judging by the way he’s snoring, not the ones that sound like they’re coming from his belly, you know he isn’t deeply asleep.

There’s a muted shadow casting off his brow bone, and you can see the eyebrow that sits a little higher quirk up faintly.

"No," he breaths roughly, eyes still closed. You see the outline of his lips twitch as he smiles. You roll your eyes and wiggle closer.

"I’m cold," you whimper. You can feel the colonies of goose bumps erupting over your skin. 

"Well, c’mere," he mumbles drowsily, eyes finally opening, and he pulls the mismatched blankets up over the both of you as he opens his arms as a fortress of warmth and protection from the angry cold. His chest is the perfect sleeping-on warmth as your cheek falls against it. He holds you tight and you are reminded that he is one hell of a cuddler.There is perhaps nothing that makes him happier. You catch the scent of the bath soak that’s left kisses on his skin earlier from the bath you shared to keep warm under the blanket of fresh London snow. "I think my toes are frozen."

But he’s soft and pliant from the bath and he smells sweet and he drapes his heavy leg over yours and places a hand on your back and cradles you against him. You snuggle into the jumper he’s leant you. He’s a thrumming pulse of warmth around you. 

"Your nose is freezing!" he hisses, as you push your nose up against the hollow of his throat and he flinches. 

"Sorry," you giggle, offering a feather soft kiss to the offended skin in apology. 

He laughs, and molds his lips over the numb little spot of skin to warm it up, before giving one to your forehead. “Cozy now?” 

You nod, tucking yourself snugger against him. 

You both hear the snow wafting down against the side of the building as you settle in. There is possibly no one better to share a bed with, than Harry. He is the best of pillows and the coziest of blankets all in one. 

He talks for a while, about how you’re, Going to get bloody nowhere tomorrow in all of this snow! Before his complaints are replaced with talk of tea and movies in bed, perhaps another bath, but mostly staying in bed all day while the next handful of predicted snow falls in due time. 

He does this until his voice goes soft and slow and drowsy and you lean in to kiss his full and slightly parted lips. Even though he’s drifting back off to his dreams, he still pushes his lips forward to meet yours.

"Goodnight, Harry." You push your fingers through his hair, skimming over his forehead and down his temple, before kissing his jaw with a soft touch.

"Goodnight, baby," he whispers into your skin.

You fall asleep to the sound of the snow and the warmth of each other. Two heartbeats and a pile of warm limbs and now warm noses, cuddled together.

Just a little something! Hope you enjoyed. -G xx.   

This is the post-bath picture. Proving to the world that neither the bath nor I killed her.

We were at the dog park for 45 minutes. Today the temperature here approached 50°. Melting snow makes mud at the dog park. Lots of mud. And big puddles. Did I mention all the mud?

Ella willfully ran through almost chest-deep ice water. Then she wrestled with two other dogs in some mud. Later I had to make her stop rolling in something disgusting she found behind a tree.

It would have been nice if she’d done those things in the opposite order. The ice water might have rinsed off some mud. Which in turn might have helped my car not look like homeless people and feral children had been using the seat covers to scratch and wipe themselves.

Once we got home she hid. She knew what happens next. Not because she’s smart. No, it’s because I told her. It’s a word she knows.

The dreaded bath.

Because what’s more awful — jumping around in 35° mud or standing in a bathtub while warm, soapy water is massaged into your hair then gently rinsed off?

Or maybe she just hates smelling nice.

Cuando tu no puedes dormir es porque me encuentro prensando en ti, solo en ti, tu eres mi sol de cada día, mi cafe de café de cada mañana y mi inspiración de cada noche, tu me das vida, animo y esperanza, sueño con volverte a ver y decirte lo que nunca me atreví
—  Fernando Ananá, “100 poemas a un amor perdido”