I felt as if I was in control of him. These past few days have been odd yet satisfying when Harry is abiding your every command.

"Harry, can you make me a cup of tea?"

"Sure." He quickly spoke before jumping to his feet and racing into the kitchen.

I sat calmly at the sofa with a hidden smirk as my mother impatiently sat at hers with dad. "Matthew, our shift is in ten minutes. We need to leave."

He furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at his watch. "Gossip girl finishes in two minutes, Karen."

Oh, dear.

"Matthew, you can watch the repeats. Come on, lets go." She groaned slightly and stood to her feet. She stared at me hesitantly and raised a finger. "You and Harry keep this place clean. I was up all morning cleaning."

"Alright. Bye, mam. Bye, dad." I murmured while sneakily grabbing the remote. I placed it beside me as I heard Harry finish the last of his tea making, and soon enough he entered the living room with a hot mug in his left hand. He kindly placed it beside me and quickly sat back down.

"Where are they gone?" He enquired.

"Work."

"Yes," He almost cheered and grasped the tv remote from the peach sofa. "I've been waiting for three hours to watch what I want."

An idea came to me as he said that. He excitedly flicked through channels before finding what he was looking for, which was weirdly Come Dine With Me. I slowly gazed at his figure before coughing lightly, capturing his attention.

"I want to watch a show." I hummed, causing him to stiffen.

"S...ure." He sadly pouted before handing me the remote. What the heck? What was wrong with him?

I felt as if he was so wound up in his own sexual desires he had figured out a plan to get me to let him do what he wanted to me. He thought I didn't know, but I most definitely had an idea of it. Additionally, I wondered if he subconsciously embodied himself as my slave out of anger by my refusal of abiding his sexual needs- and that his desperation had grew so much he unknowingly 'worshipped' me. I knew that this phase would end as soon as I let him touch me, so I wanted to see him suffer for a while.

I put on my favourite show, which was Murdoch Mysteries. Harry almost collapsed at the sight of it, his eyes rolling dramatically before laying tiredly on the sofa. The heels of his feet rested on the arm of the leather chair, his head laying in my lap.

"Play with my hair." He demanded.

I harshly inhaled before crossing my arms. "Magic word."

"Now."

"Magic word, you cretin." I spat.

"Stop calling me that," He angrily seethed. "Just play with my hair."

"I'm not playing with your hair unless you ask me nicely." I smiled innocently, which only caused him to groan.

"Play with my hair, please." He lowly yet quickly whispered in embarrassment.

I finally gave in as I gently ran my fingers through his thick, brown hair. He closed his eyes shut and exhaled in relaxation once I began massaging his head and slightly tugging at his locks.

"I'm going to a party tonight." He spoke out of the silence. I bit my bottom lip along with a content nod.

"Where?" I weakly asked.

"Just Clyde's apartment."

I inhaled and slowly breathed out before furrowing my eyebrows. "Be safe."

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