OKAY HERE IT IS, i’d love to hear more about her OCD maybe you could write about him watching her do her routines and genuinely being interested and asking her why she does it and how he can help? and yeah he hates seeing her struggle and it’s not nice to watch but he is just so fascinated by her mind and he truly wants to understand her thinking, maybe nothing too deep something quite light hearted still? like maybe she has to turn the light switch on and off a certain amount of times, or rearrange her bedside table multiple times and he just walks in the room completely unbothered and joins in and is like “okay, what are we doing?”
HERE YOU GOOOO!!!
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The plan was always to stop by Lucía's house to pick her up so they could have dinner together at a nice restaurant, but Harry doesn’t know if Lucía’s forgotten about, or if she’s just having one of those moments.
He walks into her bedroom expecting her to be fully dressed, sweeping some eyeliner onto her round eyes, but instead, she’s on the floor with what he suspects is her entire closet beside her. She’s calmly taking the tops off their hangers and then repositioning them in the opposite way. She lays the fixed clothing beside her before reaching for the next one.
Lucía stress shops a lot, so there are well over 50 articles of clothing on the floor right now.
Harry watches her for a while, leaning against the doorway. She could see him if she raises her head to the mirror across from her, but she’s so engrossed in what she’s doing, she doesn’t even look anywhere else. He crosses his arms and listens to her mutter something along the lines of “No, this isn’t right at all” as she fixes the hanger in the opposite direction, laying it down. “That’s better…”
He smiles. The urge to crush her to his chest suddenly takes him. He wants to make sure there’s no room between them. He’ll only let her go when she’s complaining about it, yelling, Let me go Harry! I get it, okay! I get it! No more! in between giggles. His fingers itch to grab her face and kiss her senseless. How many years has he known Lucía? And how is it that he still doesn’t know what’s going on inside her head? She would have a heart attack if she saw the state of his own closet right now. It’s actually why she’s been banned from coming to his house recently. It looks like a mess and he would prefer to not send his girlfriend into a downward spiral at the mere sight of it.
After watching her for some time, Harry makes himself known by stepping into the room and dropping a kiss to the top of her head. Her hair is wet, the curls well defined already. She glances at him when he kneels in front of her and takes a few hangers, shifting them over to claim them as his pile.
“Oh. Hi.” She looks at the clock.
“Hi back,” he replies.
“I’ll be done in a moment.”
“Take your time. I’ll help if that's okay with you?”
Sometimes she doesn’t want him helping her. Sometimes she does. Harry can usually tell by her frantic movements when she doesn’t want his assistance. But right now, she’s calm. She’s not shaking, and she's breathing fine.
“Yes,” she says. “Just be neat, please.”
He removes a few dresses off the hangers and fixes the hanger to face the right instead of the left when he puts the dress back on it. He tucks it to the side and then picks up another.
“What time do we have dinner?” she asks him. Good. She didn’t forget.
“In half an hour.”
“Oh, okay.”
He watches her continue rearranging the hangers. It takes some time, but they finally get through the chunk of clothing on the floor. He picks up his pile by the hangers and lays it on her well made bed. She does the same, standing in front of him. It’s not over though. Now it’s time to fix the order of the clothing.
He thinks that’s what she’s doing. He’s not actually entirely sure. She moves clothing left and right, making three separate piles. He stands back to let her work until he catches onto what she’s arranging the clothing for. Winter clothes. Summer clothes. In between season clothes.
He steps forward to help her. When he makes a mistake of putting a sweater in the winter pile, she gasps and grabs it, putting it in the in between pile. Harry softly apologizes and then continues. He does the easier ones. All her dresses and blouses are for the summer. She carries on with the other piles.
Once he’s sure he’s finished with the pile he’s unofficially named as his, he stands back and lets her finish up. She has a lot of winter clothing, he thinks to himself. Then he realizes that most of the clothing is his.
“You take so much from me, you thief. I ought to do something about it one day.”
Lucía tucks her hair behind her ear, bending down to remove a piece of lint on a sweatshirt. “You give me them and then don’t ask for them back. Is that really my fault?”
“I’m not so sure it’s my fault.”
“Then it’s not mine either,” she says, her eyes twinkling.
Now, she begins to tie the hoodie’s strings into perfect bows. Harry can’t help but smile, sitting on the bed’s corner, helping her tie them off. Somewhere around the seventh hoodie, he asks, “I’ve got to ask. What are we doing?”
Lucía’s brow is furrowed. “Fixing my closet.”
“Mhm. And just one follow up question – why are we doing this 15 minutes before our dinner reservations?”
“Can’t help it, that’s why.”
Harry finishes tying the string of a faded hoodie. “Got it.”
She’s tucking her hair behind her ears again, likely annoyed at the wet tendrils smacking her face every time she leans down to fix her clothing. Harry stands up when she’s on the final hoodie, walking around her. He waits for her to finish, and then he wraps his arms around her from behind, pinning her own arms down in the embrace.
“Harry–” she says, trying to reach the clothes with him latched onto her. “I need to finish.”
He tilts them to the side until her hair moves out of the way, neck exposed. Softly, he kisses the spot beneath her ear, tightening his grip until she squeaks. “Luce.”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s go now.”
“I know. But, um, we have to put these back in the closet.”
“And,” he murmurs, kissing her neck slowly as if he’s savoring it, “then we’ll be done?” He inhales, the scent of her shampoo driving him insane.
Lucía shivers, glancing over her shoulder at him. “I think so.”
He knocks his head against hers. “I never know what’s going on in your mind.”
“I don’t think I know either.”
He kisses her throat again before turning around with her still in his arms. He shuffles them to the mirror. Lucía rests her head on his shoulder, gasping when he gently bites down on her neck, his hands splayed over her torso, one under her breast, the other on her stomach.
Harry notices now that the circles under her eyes are dark. She may not have had a good night last night. He’ll make sure to fix that tonight.
He removes his lips, looking at her through the mirror. “Do you see it?”
He feels her throat work as she swallows. “See what?”
“How beautiful you are. Absolutely heartbreaking.”
“You just saw me fixing all my hangers to face one way like a lunatic and you’re calling me beautiful?”
Harry laughs softly, closing his eyes as he hugs her to his front tight. “In my books, you’ve never been more beautiful.” He turns his head to kiss her cheek a few times. “And I think I’ve seen you behave, er, like a lunatic, other times.”
“Which time are you referring to?”
“Oh, there's just so many, my love.”
“You’re so romantic.”
“Aren’t I?”
Harry picks his head up and looks at them through the mirror again. He removes one hand off her torso and holds her jaw instead, squeezing her cheeks together. “Can we go eat, please? I'm very hungry, and if I don’t eat soon, I will be the lunatic between us.”
She frowns. “We have to put the clothes away.” But Harry’s squeezing her face so tight, it comes out all jumbled. She breaks into laughter seconds before Harry does. He lets her go and heads straight for the clothes before her.
“What order?”
“Winter, fall and spring stuff together, and then summer.”
“Well, at least I got that right.”
“You do know me very well.”
“I’m a very attentive lover, as you already know.”
She smiles, watching him put all the clothing back, neat and perfect. He shuts her closet door and then raises an eyebrow at her.
“All done?”
She nods, cracking her knuckles over and over. “I would have liked to pass a lint roller over them all, but I can do that, um, later, I guess.” She nods again, but this time to herself. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Harry reaches for her hand as they’re heading out of the bedroom. He makes sure he’s the one turning the light off. He kisses her knuckles as an apology for her constant attack on them.
“Thank you for all that,” she whispers when he leans down to kiss her properly. Harry’s grinning into the kiss. When he pulls away, he quickly leans down and grabs her thighs, throwing her over his shoulder. She shrieks and grabs his jacket, her hair falling all over her face.
She cries, “I hate when you do this! I’m going to fall!”
“No you’re not.” He carries her like that to the door. “You walk too slow,” he says, the smile still in his voice. “And I’m so hungry. Oh, watch your head, my love.”
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