Strict | H.S.

Chapter 9.

[Ava]

Inside the kitchen, Emily was sitting at the dinner table as she excitedly watched Harry dip a spoonful of macaroni and cheese onto her yellow, Winnie the Pooh plate.

Without looking up, Harry apparently heard my timid footsteps enter the kitchen, he spoke in a serious voice, "What would you like to drink, Ava?"

"Um—I don't know," I said, shyly.

He sat the plate down on the middle of the table, gazing up at me. "Well, come get something. This is your house," Harry replied, more casually. "Don't be shy."

"Yeah! I have owange juice," Emily giggled, rocking the glass from side to side on top of the table with her small hands. The glass almost flipped over until Harry quickly caught it.

"Easy, angel," Harry said, sitting down beside Emily. He wiped up some spilled orange juice with a nearby napkin.

"Wooops! Hawwy, I make mess," Emily smiled.

Harry smiled. "It's alright, love. See? All clean."

"All cween!" Emily imitated.

The exchange between them made me smile. It was adorable seeing them interacting as I took a can of soda out of the refrigerator.

"I think I'll pass," I said, heading to leave.

Harry grabbed my arm, effectively stopping me. "What do you mean you'll pass?" he asked, assertively, releasing me once I stopped.

"I-I don't want dinner," I timidly twiddled my thumbs because I was lying. I was hungry, but I really don't like the food.

His large hand pressed across my forehead, startling me at first. I go to step back, but Harry grabbed my arm again while his other hand continued to firmly press against my forehead, checking for my temperature. "You don't feel hot," Harry said, quizzically. His serious green eyes direct down to mine. "Do you feel ill?"

"No, Sir." I replied, looking up at him with a somewhat terrified facial expression. I didn't want to make him mad by complaining about the mac and cheese.

His eyes narrowed, his hand dropping from my forehead, but his other one was still clamped to my arm. "Just try it."

"N-no, that's ok." My stomach grumbled, letting Harry know I was lying.

"Why? I know you're hungry, Ava."

"N-no reason," I continued lying, trying to pull away from him, but Harry wasn't having it. His stern facial expression showed he was going to win this battle.

"I do believe there is a reason," Harry replied strictly. "Sit down." He tugged me toward the table, pulling a chair out for me.

"Harryy," I whined, my eyes increasing in size upon realizing I failed to address him as Mr. Styles again. My mouth went dry. "I s-swear, I didn't mean to say that!"

His expression went dark. "Ava, watch what comes out of your mouth."

I hiccuped, wiping my bleary brown eyes. "I-I'm s-sorry, Mr. S-Styles."

"It's okay," Harry replied and hugged me.

I sniffled. "I-It is?""

"Yes, Ava." His deep, soft voice reverberated against the top of my head. "Now, let's go eat dinner." He pulled away, taking me by the hand and back to the kitchen.

"I-I can't because I— I don't like macaroni and cheese," I finally admitted.

"Ava," Harry said, his voice dropped an octave, "Why didn't you tell me that when we were at the store?"