I hope no one heard me, I don't know if I made any noise this time. It's going to be fucking embarrassing if they heard me screaming like a lunatic in my sleep. Frankie's only heard it once, and I hated the look on his face when he woke me up, he looked so worried and scared. I hate worrying people. I drop my hands, looking to Gizmo and sigh heavily "I really hope that smirky asshole isn't here today, I really don't have the energy for him" Gizmo just stares at me dumbly, but I take that as an indication of him being agreeable with me. "Yeah I know - I'm still mad at you by the way, sleeping with the enemy - I raised you better than that. You don't just crawl into bed with any guy with pretty green eyes that gives you belly rubs." I tell him, sounding like a scolding parent. Gizmo whines loudly, huffing at me. "Don't argue with me." I point at him "You're grounded understand? No snacks after dinner tonight" Gizmo licks his lips, blinking and let's out a low whimpering growl. "Don't sass me. If it wasn't for you being such a tart I wouldn't be wearing this bloody shirt" I say, raising my brows and pointing to the shirt. Gizmo groans, whining louder and my brows drop. "You want breakfast don't you?" He starts to pant, and shift on the spot as he nudges his nose at me, as if he's urging me to get up. I roll my eyes, throwing the blanket off me and pull myself out of bed with a tired groan "It's always fucking food with you, you're a bottomless pit" Even though Gizmo is as slow as a slug, 90% of the time, he gets off the bed as if he's as speedy as a greyhound, getting to the door in a flash as I trudge towards it; waiting for me with his eager stubby tail wagging frantically. I squint at him while I grab the door handle "I'll remember this next time you act too tired to go for a walk, Speedy Gonzales" When I pull the door open, Gizmo squeezes through it before I even get to open it properly, his feet slipping against the hardwood as he darts out of the room, bolting towards to the kitchen. And then another smell hits me. Bacon. Otherwise known as crack to Gizmo. No wonder he was breaking his neck to get out there; he would sleep through a fucking earthquake but will jump awake at the smell of bacon three houses away like a damn bloodhound. I walk slowly towards the kitchen, messing my fingers through my hair and trying to blink away this sting in my eyes; it's that type of exhaustion where you feel like you have chlorine in your eyes, and cross my arms over my chest as I reach the kitchen. I halt my steps when I see the brown mess of long curly hair sat at the kitchen island, with a Gizmo sat on the ground next to him, staring up at him with begging eyes like he's just polished his halo atop his head. You know Gizmo, if this was a ship, this would be considered mutiny. To be fair, I honestly think he would let a robber ran sack my whole house and shoot me in the tit; gladly being his accomplice as long as the man had bacon. The little bacon slut. I watch as Harry smiles at Gizmo, pulling a piece of bacon from his plate and leaning down to hand it to him; Gizmos eyes go wide like he's just been given the holy grail as he scoffs the bacon in one bite, licking his lips and looking to Harry expectantly. I fight the smile that wants to break out on my face. You've started a dangerous domino effect now Harry, as I said Gizmo is a bottomless pit and now you've just showed him that you're a human vending machine. Good luck keeping any of your food to yourself again around that dog, you've just played yourself. Harry notices me watching them out of the corner of his eye, and turns his face to me with that stupid god damn smirk. "Mornin' heart breake-" His sentence cuts off and his brows furrow when his eyes look over my face, and his eyes become concerned. "Are you okay?" I glance my eyes to ground, cursing myself in my head and feeling that familiar uncomfortable feeling creep through my insides. It must look obvious that I've been crying, I usually don't have to worry about it when I wake up at home - but I didn't think about it this morning. "M'fine, just tired still" I mumble, folding my arms tighter in front of me while I look at the ground. The sound of Harrys chair being pushed back echoes in the room, his footsteps hitting against the floor until he's standing in front of me. For fuck sake, why can't he just go away? He lifts his hand, nudging the knuckle of his curled pointer finger under my chin to get me to look at him and when I lift my run down red eyes his lips press together flatly. "That's more than just being tired love" he states, that normal arrogance in his voice replaced by a softer tone. "I have allergies" I lie, using my usual excuse when I have to get away with red puffy eyes and a sniffling nose. Harry lifts his brows with a disbelieving look, ready to press further but Frankies voice sings out as I hear bare footsteps smack down the stairs. "Oooo who's cooking baco- Drew? What are you doing here?" I whip my head in the direction of Frankies surprised voice, seeing him reach the bottom of the stairs and walk towards us in his matching sky blue polka dot pyjamas. His large confused green eyes dart between us, while he walks towards us, but when he notices the familiar white shirt draped over my body; as well as my very obvious lack of pants his eyes snap to Harry and his brows crease in anger. Oh he looks pissed. He stops a few steps from us, placing his hands on his hips and glaring daggers at Harry when he snaps "Does someone want to explain what the hell is going on here!"