Last night, you and Harry had hosted a New Year's party for all your friends. It was everything you could've hoped for. It was a wild, extravagant blast. But today, the aftermath speaks for itself, as you stand amidst the chaotic state of your kitchen, sipping a much needed cup of coffee

The entertaining areas look like a hurricane of celebration just swept through. The kitchen counter is covered in plastic champagne flutes, a smart decision in hindsight because many drinks had been spilled or dropped but your expensive glasses hadn't been casualties of the festivities

Streamers cling to the walls in sad, drooping clusters while glitter from the party poppers cover almost every surface, catching the light like a fresh layer of snow. A few prints from the photo booth lay forgotten on the floor, stubbornly sticking to drying puddles of champagne

Harry trudges down the stairs with a groan, his hair is a mess and his eyes are still half closed. He stops on the bottom stair and takes in the the scene

"Wow", he mutters, running a hand through his hair, "I guess last night was epic"

He smiles softly and kisses your forehead before pouring himself a cup of coffee