Close Quarters // H.S.

Making up.

•

Harry's given a rude welcome upon his return.

His belongings are packed away in his spare suitcases and trash bags for the items that didn't fit anymore, but his papers are nowhere to be found. He's assuming they're shoved in one of the bags.

Nico is knocked out on the couch, mouth hanging open as she snores with arms awkwardly positioned across her body.

Now Harry's the one who's pissed, and he's going to make her problem as well.

"Wake up!"

He shouts, laughing as she flies up out of her sleep into an upright position.

"You're pathetic. You're fucking kicking me out? Over nothing?"

"You should have expected this. Consider it, like, the final straw. You think I'm pathetic? I wish I would have left the mess you made so we could see who's really pathetic. You trashed your own home and left it for me to clean up because you knew I would. That's pathetic, Harry."

He shouldn't have made that comment, cause it's obvious that he can dish it out but not take it back.

Harry's throwing his spare bag down, quickly making his was over to Nico before balling his fist around her hair and yanking her to stand. She hisses at the sting, eyes squeezing shut before she's grabbing at his own hair and tugging it back.

"You pull, and I'll pull harder. Don't be a fucking idiot. Let go."

"You first."

There's anger in her eyes when she opens them.

"Me first? You're the one who ripped me off the couch by my fucking hair!"

"And you're the one who packed all of my things up! You act as if you can afford this place by yourself, you're too insufferable to get another roommate. They'll hate you more than I do. You need me but won't admit it. Drop the fucking act, you're not as tough as you think."

Harry's yelping as Nico gives a rather harsh tug, causing him to return the action as she mumbles an angry "fuck!", her face in a scowl.

"Neither are you. Look down."

Harry already knows.

He knows, because he can feel it.

He knows, because there's a knot in his stomach.

He knows, because he felt a wave of shame wash over him as soon as she got a hold of his hair.

Harry's hard. Completely hard.

"No."

"Yes."

"Shut the fuck up."

"So this isn't funny to you, now? This isn't funny? This is hilarious to me. You hate me cause you can't fuck me. You know you wouldn't do good, either. Is this why you like fighting so much? Do you have a thing for being a fucking cunt?"

Harry's the first to let go.

"No. I'd ask you the same thing, but I'm assuming you're not into much since you clearly haven't been fucked in years."