Thinking of pianorry trying to kiss her and she’s deadass talking between every kiss
He's twisting her braids between his fingers, his other hand holding her jaw firmly, trying to get to her lips because they finally have some time alone, but she's just going on and on about the most pointless of things. He's already had an off morning, so this meeting is all that he's been looking forward to. However, every time he leans in to kiss her, she doesn't get the hint, still speaking.
It's Harry mistake if you really think about it. He's at fault for pulling her in by her waist after her chaperone was left outside the door, nearly dragging her to the piano and pulling her into his lap as he sat down on the seat. He's at fault for asking her how her day has been.
Because now, she's been here for ten minutes, and she's yet to give him a proper kiss, her mouth moving faster than he can catch it with his own. The frustration is welling up inside of him, the frown on his face deepening as she continues to ramble about how the blizzard the week before completely ruined her cousin's garden and Harry has half a mind to remind her that he only asked about her day, but that'll mean she'll talk even more.
So the hand around her jaw suddenly presses her cheeks together, hard, cutting off her words.
"Be quiet," he mutters, pressing his index finger to her lips. "I didn't ask for all that. I'm going to release you and then you're going to give me a good kiss. Do you understand? Nothing else."
And she's nodding, her round eyes wide. He slowly releases her face and leans in for a kiss, slightly sighing with relief when she tilts her head and kisses him finally. His mind goes wonderfully blank, the headache that's been forming behind his eyes slowly disappearing.
"Now. Was that so hard?" he whispers against her mouth.
And that's his next mistake. Because it's a question and she opens her mouth to answer. And she answers and answers and answers.