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Harry groaned as he woke up in a place that wasn't his own. Its not like he was sleeping in the first place since he repeatedly tossed and turned in his place on the couch but the feel of where he was was different.
He glanced around the room to see that a bit of sun was peaking through the blinds which allowed him to see that he was in someone's living room. He could see the tv mounted against the wall across him and a fire place with pictures placed on the mantle.
He hesitantly sat up, rubbing his neck as he heard cracks from his bones. He looked down to see he was still in the same clothes from the night before, his sleeves rolled up from how he moved which made him self conscious and quickly pull them down.
He stood to his feet and padded towards the fireplace, bending slightly and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before seeing the clear picture of Anne and Mark on their wedding day.
Shit. I came back to her house! What was I thinking?!
He racked his brain because he couldn't remember when he had gotten to her apartment. All he remembers is that he said he was tired and then they were walking.
He winced as he saw a picture of Gemma along with the couple. He continued to look until he saw a picture of all three of them, including him, at his 18th birthday party. He squinted to look at his green eyes, biting his lip as the memories of all of the compliments he received came flooding into his mind.
How could that become a murderer? I looked so innocent. Fuck i need to leave.
"Harry!" A small voice chirped, startling him to a point where he jumped in his spot and almost knocked over a picture, just catching it before it could crash against the wood flooring.
He glared at the little girl who had wild blonde hair and glittering hazels. Her pink pacifier bobbed as she bit at it, smiling at the curly haired man. He wanted to be angry at her for calling him that every time she sees him but she looked small in her night gown that went down to her knees and pink princess socks. She was pigeon toed which made him look down to see that he was as well, making him shift uncomfortably.
His eyes caught sight of the picture still in his hands, grimacing as he saw it was an old High School picture of himself. "What," he whispered, setting the picture back where it was previously before padding towards her and placing his hands on his knees so he could lower himself to her eye level.
"Hi," she waved, giggling as he rolled his eyes. Her small hands went up to make grabby hands at him, making him awkwardly look around as if there would be a sign telling him what to do.
He was always good with kids but that was his sister. Someone he was avoiding an attachment with but he could already tell from the flutter of her eyelashes that he was going to care for her.
He sighed and scooped her up to rest her on his hip, securely holding her as he stood there for a moment. "Where do you want to go?" He softly said, looking from her pacifier to her small hand that pointed down the hall.
He walked carefully so there were no creaks coming from the floor, walking to a door that was littered with disney related stickers and the letter 'G'.
He opened the door and cursed silently as he stepped on a rubber duck that squeaked loudly, making him hurriedly walk to her bed and set her down, wiping his hands awkwardly on his jeans as he waited for her to lay down.
She looked up at him with an expectant expression as she remained seated. "Story." She hummed, earning a nod. "Mommy says stories."
"Well, i'm not your mother." He growled, "Go to bed. Its early." He made a move to walk away but then he heard a sniffle, causing him to roll his eyes. "Fine."
With that she squealed and climbed under the sheets, laying her head on her pillow and pointing to the space beside her head which he sat in carefully with his hands placed on his lap.
"Story," she reminded him, looking up with rosy cheeks and a smile on her face to reveal a small pair of dimples.
"Alright," he sighed, looking around the pink room for some sort of inspiration to his short story. He paused at the prince and princess stickers that rested on her dresser. "Once upon a time, there were two princes-"
"Where princess?"
"There doesn't always have to be a princess." He stated, "Just like there doesn't have to be a prince. Remember that, Gemma."
She nodded and then he continued. "One prince was good and brought smiles to all the land while the other was bad. He made people cry and he took their toys. The good prince was absolutely beautiful with a smile like the sun and the bad prince had creepy red eyes and long hair." He almost smiled to himself at how he changed his tone of voice to seem more playful. But of course he stopped himself mid-grin.
She giggled as she looked up at him, kicking her feet playfully. The sight made him smile but only for a few moments when he reminded himself not to get attached.
"They were in love. Were as in not anymore. The bad prince was being stupid and-"
"Stupid is bad word!"
"Dumb." He corrected, earning a small thumbs up. "He hurt the good prince who absolutely didn't deserve it and so the good prince left to never return back to the bad prince. The end." He patted his thighs before standing up, taking a few steps towards the door only to hear a hum of confusion.
"What happens later?" She questioned, making him raise his eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder. "What happens to bad prince?"
"He fights a dragon and dies."
"And good one?"
"He finds another prince." Harry breathed, grabbing the door handle. He glanced around the room to see all of her toys and stop at her bed to see her sitting there with her arms crossed over her chest.
"Thats not good story." She pouted.
"Life isn't a good story." He snapped, attempting to leave once again but stopping himself because he couldn't handle the cuteness of her being angry. "Gemma, I cant tell you a good story. I have to go."
"You leaving Mommy again?" Her small voice hummed, making him cringe and nod hesitantly. "Why?"
"I don't belong here." He exhaled, not expecting her to know what that statement means. "Don't tell her I was here." With that, he walked out of the door and found his shoes resting by the couch along with his phone and keys. He collected his things and left the apartment silently, resting his back against the wall beside the door as he let out a deep breath to control his erratic heart.
