I think I subconsciously make too much food so I can always feed my best friend who lives across the street from me 😂😂😂 anywho. I think Harry would always make too much food so he can call the person he like over so they could spend time together because he just ugh-✌
“Again?” is the first thing you say when he opens the door.
Harry smiles sheepishly, ruffling the small curls at the back of his neck and stepping aside so that he can welcome you into his flat. You stroll in, kicking off your shoes and pulling off your coat. He takes it from you and hangs it in the small closet to the side while you stare at him with a knowing smirk, your hands folded across your chest.
“What was it this time?”
“Spaghetti,” he says, pursing his lips to keep from chuckling as his own ineptness. “In my defense, though, the box said it was fo’ one t’two people! Guess I accidentally measured enough fo’ two.”
He flashes you a dazzling grin then, but his cheeks are slightly pink, and you can tell that he’s embarrassed. You shake your head and snicker under your breath, and Harry scratches his inked forearm awkwardly.
“Well, I hope it’s good at least,” you say, and you spin around on your heel, walking down the hallway before disappearing into the kitchen. He stays standing at the front entrance for a moment, inhaling deeply because he can still catch a whiff of the perfume that’s clinging to you.
“You coming or what?” you call from the kitchen, and he snaps out of it, following you so that you can both enjoy a meal that he had “accidentally” measured for two.