Fín {Third Book to Secret}

115

Harry POV

It's the following day.

May is upstairs resting and Anne is in her nursery sleeping.

She got discharged at 7 this morning. We got home at 7:30, Finn woke up at 7:45.

I give him his breakfast. It's spinach and apple sauce.

"Enjoy." I say, a smug smile on my face. His eyes burn on me.

"I don't w-want it."

"Yesterday you said you didn't mind eating it." I bring up. His eyes roll. "You're not leaving the table unless you eat it." I say.

"K." He looks forward.

What the actual fuck is wrong with this kid?

***

Two hours go by and he's still sitting in the dining room.

I sit down beside him and push the plate toward him. "Eat it."

"N-No."

"It's cold now, that's your fault." I say.

BJ comes into the dining room. My focus is on the pig that I don't notice Finn dumps the spinach on the floor for the pig to eat then runs out of the room.

"Oh my god." I stand up and chase after him.

He attempts to run up the stairs but I pick him up and bring him back down. He kicks back and forth and throws another fit.

"Your sister is sleeping, stop screaming." I say while putting him down in the dining room. He's seated back at the chair.

The pig ate all the spinach thankfully.

He crosses his arms and scowls his face at me. "What's your problem? For the past 3 days you've been acting like this."

He doesn't say anything. I let out a deep sigh. "Eat the apple sauce and you can leave the table."

"I don't l-like apple s-sauce."

"Oh well. Eat it." He takes the bowl in his hands. His eyes look into mine and he pours it on the floor.

I stand up. "Come on."

"No!"

"Finn Harrison Styles get your ass out of the chair!" I shout.

His blue eyes soften but the puss is still on his face. He eventually stands up.

***

I check up on May after I cleaned the dining room floor.

She's in bed reading a book. I close the door behind me and lay down.

"How's your morning?" My wife asks. Her voice sweet.

"I want to throw that boy out the window." I say.

"He's acting that bad?" I nod against my pillow.

"He's very draining." I say.

"Do you think it's just because he's an older brother now?"

"I don't know." I sigh. "I hate yelling at him though." I admit.

"This Saturday we're having a barbecue. Maybe by then he'll get better." May says.

"I hope." I lay down on my back.

"Where is he now?"

"In his room." I say. I hear our daughter cry through the monitor. "I'll get her." I stand.