Sometimes Harry wakes to find himself clutched tightly to his partner’s chest, a blurry field of freckles and sparse red hair filling his sight. Other times he wakes buried under draped arms and legs that are no longer gawky but strong. One way or another he wakes tangled up with Ron.
On weekdays it’s fine, lying there for a few minutes warm
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*pokes you to write Sunday morning* :D
Just lovely.
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Ok, ok, I'll work on it.
Thanks :)
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