Stare.

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This story wouldn't have been possible if I hadn't read Jayme Dray's (@JeddieJay )works. His books are extraordinary and really well written. He makes you want to write something different and something better .So thank you Jayme for writing those books. Hope you have an idea on how much they- you- have an impact on people. And this story won't even be close to one of your works or of that much worth. But I've tried. I love you <3
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Harry always knew people watched him, the thing he didn't know was why? Maybe it was because of his unruly hair? Maybe it was because of his clumsy walk. Maybe it was because he was the son of Robin Styles, a lawyer, who was not only in demand in his city but also in his country.

He didn't know. Most people would have ignored it. But Harry couldn't. He wanted to, but couldn't. It drove him crazy really, he always wanted to be one of those who didn't care what people thought about them.

But he just couldn't.

One day , he really got uncomfortable. It wasn't his usual 'people-watching-him-cross-the-road-as-he-stumbled' , no, this time he could feel someone's eyes on his back, watching his every move.

He tried to figure out who it was , but whoever that person was , didn't want to be seen. Obviously.

He fidgeted with his coat as he crossed the road and quickly made his way back home, not wanting to be near the intense stare on his back.

When he finally reached home he sighed in relief. He shook his coat of and hanged it on the coat rack.

"How was your walk?" His mum asked, sipping her coffee.

"Refreshing." He mumbled.

"Your dads not going to be home for a while." His mum announced.

It wasn't new to Harry, his father was always leaving, claiming he had work.
Harry knew that, hell he knew his dad hadn't had a break for the past six months.

But Harry didn't quiet like his dad's job. Being a lawyer might be cool, but when you get the wrong case that's when it blows up in your face. Well Harry's face really.

He had seen his father fighting cases, winning cases. But when he looked at the innocent, who was punished, sentenced to death, for not doing anything because of his father he felt guilty.

He nodded his head as an answer for his mother then left to go to his room.

As he removed his shirt, he again felt someone staring at him. He felt rather uncomfortable. He stopped his actions and let the shirt drop back, covering his body.

He took his night clothes to the bathroom and changed there.

When he got back he looked at the window. Not knowing why, he made his way there, staring through the glass.

Maybe he shouldn't have.

Maybe he made the right decision.

He didn't quiet know as he stared back at the bright blue eyes.

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