gourmet box


etsyfindoftheday | v-day prep | 2.13.17

gourmet spice rack in a box by marvlingbrosltd

spice things up in your relationship with this gourmet box o’ spices valentine’s day gift!! see what i did there? ;) enflame your love!

tired (h.s)

Anonymous said: Fluffy Harry being supportive and sweet when you had a stressful day

By the time you make it to the door of the apartment, you’re so flustered and exhausted that it takes a good couple of minutes before you can get the key into the lock and open the door. The moment you step inside, the sweet scent of vanilla washes over you and floods your nostrils. You smile at the comforting smell. It must be one of the gourmet candles from the box set you’d bought for Harry a couple of weeks back, seeing how he had a bit of an unhealthy obsession with the waxy things. You close the door and kick off your shoes, and you only realize then how sore your feet are, how much it hurts to even walk across the soft carpet of your home. Doing your best to ignore it, you walk further into the flat, past the kitchen and common room, and into the hallway where your bedroom is located. You softly knock on the closed door. Silence. You gently turn the door knob, and slowly push the door open.

Harry’s in bed, his hair pushed back up out of the lenses of his eyeglasses, headphones on his ears, and the light of his laptop illuminating his face. He doesn’t seem to notice you’ve entered the room until you toss your bag aside, walked to the side of the bed, and lay your back over his legs, startling him. You can feel him jump, and his kneecap accidentally hits the center of your back, sending a dull ache through your body. You groan, and watch as he lifts his laptop. When he realizes that no, no one’s broken in and attempted to murder him, and yes, it’s just you, he relaxes.

“Jesus Christ, woman. You know that you could’ve just-” He cuts himself off when he sees the pained grimace that’s plastered onto your face.

“Hey, are you alright?” He asks, concerned. He puts the laptop onto the beside drawer, and takes off his glasses. You shrug, not answering his question, your hands coming up to rub at your temples, trying to soothe the migraine that came about during your commute home.

“Rough day?” The heavy sigh that comes out of your mouth is telling enough. Harry gestures for you to scoot up next to him in the bed, throwing the comforter over the both of you. Once you’re settled, he hovers over you, one hand holding himself up and the other gently combing through your hair. He’s so close you can smell his cologne, the earthy lavender scent is not only on him, but on the sheets as well. Paired with the lingering vanilla in the air from the candle, you can feel your breathing start to slow, eyelids getting heavier by the second.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, breaking you out of your trance. You decide he deserves to know what’s got you so worked up, so you tell him about your overbearing boss (”Always suspected he was a bit of a tyrant.“) and when you spilled coffee all over your laptop and shorted out the battery (”I’ll get you a new one.” “No, Harry, you don’t-” “Oh hush. PC or Mac?”)

Harry listens as you recount the little occurrences throughout the day that completely and utterly exhausted your patience and drained your energy. You look up, and see the sympathetic smile that’s taken shape on his face. His hand hasn’t stopped running through your hair, and he can tell he’s about to lose you to Dreamland. He kisses you, and your eyes flutter shut. You can hear his soft voice as you begin to drift off.

“Just get some rest, love. Tomorrow is a new day. I know you can do it.” You feel him kiss your cheek and lay next to you, arm winding around your waist to bring you closer, your head falling against his chest. His heartbeat lulls you to sleep, and you feel warm and content. Relaxed, not flustered.

Bad days will always come around. Harry just happens to make them a bit better.