Bound by Pages | larry

six

"I'll tell you later okay?" Liam dragged out his voice, deepening it slightly to mock his friend. The curly one looked offended for about a second, before going into another fit of laughter. The two boys rolled around on the large couch, Harry falling off more than once. 

It was for these moments when Harry was glad he had Liam.

~

Harry had not stayed at Liam's long enough to miss dinner. He had come home to his parents sitting at the marble table, about to start their warm meal. Their son cursed under his breath; he had been avoiding them all weekend. 

His chest felt tight as he saw his fathers stern fingertips tapping on the tabletop. Harry moved his gaze up to his father's eyes, which were looking upwards through his glasses, right into the face of his son. Harry felt a swallow go down his throat as his father motioned towards a seat.

"Come eat with us son." His father's voice was low but pierced through the room. As if it was planned, his mother walked out of the kitchen with an extra plate for Harry. His feet disobeyed him as they walked to the chair to the right of the very end of the table.

As the food was being served, Harry couldn't ignore the tension that was clouding the room. His breaths were heavier than usual, and he seemed to notice every loose strand of his mother's mustard sweater. He noticed minuscule splatters of brown on the frizzy strands as a piece of chicken slipped from the tongs back into the sauce.

He noticed everything but his father staring him down, watching his son completely zoned out. Harry snapped out of it as a clump of potatoes landed on his plate. The other side of the spoon connected to his mother, trying to give a smile. She failed miserably.

For a while, all that could be heard was the scraping of forks and knives, occasionally the scratch of a chair leg on the floor. The food was tasteless to Harry, identifying itself only as 'mushy mush' and 'slightly chewier mush'. Though the 'round mushy mush' was Harry's favourite by far. He was basically Gordon Ramsay at this point. Harry chuckled out loud at his own little joke.

His father cleared his throat loudly, and the smile instantly disappeared of off Harry's face. He picked up a pea with his silver fork, but suddenly the taste wasn't so funny anymore. The slightly cold vegetable just made Harry frown a little more. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted his parents to talk at this point; whether the silence was that unbearing or not.

"Your report cards come out next Monday." Harry didn't get to decide whether a conversation would go on. His father would control this just like everything else in Harry's life. 

Wait. A pea rolled from the silver fork onto the cream tablecloth. Next Monday. That's right after the debates. Harry wasn't thinking about himself anymore. If he could manage to do well in this debate, he might be able to get Louis passing English. Louis and he were scheduled to go on Friday.

"Do you hear that son? In eight days, I'm expecting nothing less than an honours average." His father was deadly serious. The young boy had to give it everything he could to not roll his eyes at this sentence. Of course, he cared so much about the numbers. His father ever really cared about anything else in his life except for his marks and his girlfriend.

"Yea, yea, high marks, no seventies, yea," Harry mumbled, more to his potatoes that anyone in the room. It was very obviously a mocking tone, but Harry wasn't in the mood to suck up right now. His father terrified him, no doubt, but Harry was just tired of dealing with him at the moment.

"I'm serious Harry. Nothing below eighty-five." Harry bit his lip. He knew that his father was setting the expectations too high. He had probably memorized all of Harry's marks all the way back to his preschool tests. Harry remembered a time last year when he brought up a test mark from six years ago into an argument.

"I'm always higher than the class average dad, isn't that enough?" Harry tried bargaining because he knew that not all his marks were up there. He could see the older man's lips press together as he thought of a clever response.

"Everyone gets higher than the average Harry. Your class averages are so low."

"I don't you understand what average means dad." Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing from his father. Harry had good marks, but his father would still be disappointed. All his friends were always jealous of how high his marks were, but they were never good enough.

Before his father had time to blow up, Harry pushed his plate forward and walked away. Behind him, he left a fuming father and a mother that never did anything about it.

~

The first few raindrops hit before it got dark. They were spaced out, a few seconds apart, testing the waters of the sky. As the sun set and the moon rose, the rain only got harder and heavier. The night was especially dark with gloomy clouds shielding the moon's light

The raindrops that fell before a storm were always big and fat but somehow managed to hold together. A single drop could soak through a shirt. As the thunder and lightning came, the raindrops got smaller, but sped up and were much more plentiful.

These are the things that Harry has learned through his almost seventeen years of existence. He always loved storms, especially at night. He used to be able to sit in bed for hours, just listening to the sound of water hitting his roof.

Tonight was no exception. Harry was cuddled up in his favourite sweater, the grey strands engulfing his body. He has his covers lazily thrown over his legs as he sat on his bed, leaning against the wall. He always loved the fact that his bed was tucked into the corner of his room, creating a cosy corner. 

The lights in his room were turned off, illuminated only by the screen of his laptop that Harry was currently watching videos on. He made sure to keep only one earbud in to ensure that he could hear the sound of the rain pouring. The pitter patter of the weather kept his mind calm as the sound playing in his ears distracted him from his life.

He was happy like this really, just a little lonely. He felt a pang in his chest as he saw his favourite Youtuber doing challenges with her boyfriend. Harry wished that he had somebody to cuddle with when it stormed. 

Not Jaqueline, definitely not Liam. It would be just like this, with the lights off and Harry in his favourite sweater. Instead of being alone, there would be someone taking up the other earbud, and they would listen to the sounds of rain together. Harry chuckled as he imagined someone else leaned up against this wall with him, just enjoying each others company. 

Harry watched one last video before plugging his laptop in and calling it a night. He would have to remember to do some more work for his English project tomorrow. He was planning to work today, but once the storm started, Harry couldn't just work through the perfect atmosphere.

Thinking about English class, and cuddling with a special someone, Harry fell asleep with his sheets strewn across his body. As the sound of rain soothed his dreams, the roars of thunder and the light of lightning echoed in the distance.

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