When Love Arrives (H.S.)

Chapter 27

I looked at Harry and then at Des... And then back and Harry and then back at Des. The five of us were at a standstill, all just frozen in the tense air that had become our living room.

It was silent for a few moments as I cautiously closed the front door behind me, before Niall broke out in a fit of nervous laughter, causing us all to turn our attention towards him. 

Erica smacked Niall on the leg to try and shut him up. He held up his hands to excuse himself, saying through a few leftover chuckles, "There's just... So much stress in this room right now."

My best friend gave me a sympathetic shake of the head and grabbed her boyfriend's arm, pulling him off the couch. "We'll just be going, then," she said, and the two disappeared into her bedroom. 

I took the sound of her door slamming as my cue to say, "Harry... What's going on?" 

"I'll tell you what's goin' on, then—" Des started yelling again, but Harry raised his hand to stop him. 

"Don't yell at her, Des," Harry spat at him. "How did you even know I was here?" 

"Well, once I realized you fuckin' left. I just called up her house and asked her father where she lived," he said simply. "Told him I figured you'd be shacked up here." 

"Shacked up?" Harry asked, his nostrils flaring and taking a step towards his father. 

I immediately reached my hands out to snag Harry's arm, pulling him back abruptly. He, of course, turned to glared at me, but I kept my lips pressed in a fine line and my mouth shut for once. I knew I couldn't cross the line here, not with his family. 

"Well, I don't think it seems to far-fetched. Russel told me your little girlfriend is quite the loose cannon," Des said, rolling his eyes. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I snapped, and now it was Harry's turn to hold me back. He patted me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear, "Just go wait in the kitchen."

"I'm not going anywhere," I said lowly, just so he would hear. Of course I was staying. I wanted to stay by Harry's side and support him but I also wanted to know what the hell was going on, as this couldn't be the blissful father-son relationship that Harry had described to me in great detail while he was away. 

Harry exhaled, turning back to Des. . "For your information, I'm living with Niall. I just happen to be hanging out with my girlfriend at the moment, I don't know why that's such a problem."

"Oh!" Des exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "Isn't that nice? Is Niall letting you live with him for free, then? That's awfully generous, innit?"

"Of course not," Harry scoffed. "I have to pay rent, just like everyone else."

"And how the fuck are ye gonna pay rent for a room in Manhattan?" 

Harry crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "With my money?" he spat, laughing humorlessly. "From my bank account? Do you think I'm unable to write a check, Father?" 

Des smiled condescendingly up at him, even though Harry's height made him seem the superior. "And where do you think that money comes from, huh? You think it magically appears out of thin air?"

Harry's demeanor broke a little bit a that. "Well, I—"

"No, that's right. It doesn't. I'm the one loading that account with the money I've actually worked for. I refuse to let you blow it all on your silliness. You're twenty-one fucking years old." 

"Blow your money? Seriously?" Harry ran his hand through his hair. "You didn't spend a single one of your precious fucking dollars on me until I was nineteen years old. You hardly gave me the time of day until I was eighteen. If anything, this should be a fucking deal for you. A twenty one year old son for the low price of an apartment in Manhattan!"