Fault. - H.S.

-3-

A/N: you might wanna check if you've seen the last chapter cause when it was uploaded wattpad wasn't notifying about updates.

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Cold toast, warm orange juice and soggy weetabix. Harry frowned at the  breakfast he had been served on his first morning at the institution as he sat at a table by himself in the cafeteria writing in his journal once again. The smooth ink ran across his page gently as he got lost in his words, writing again.

"I miss home. I miss coffee and warm bacon. I miss my mum and I've only been here a day. Pathetic I guess.

Last night was not how I wanted to spend my first night here. The memory of such panicked urges surging through my body is so prominent in my mind, the voices so loud and so strong.
I can remember seeing Kooky, standing so timidly at my door frame as I dropped into a deep sleep. Her short pyjamas and fluffy slippers have created a swirling image through my mind that has been there all morning. And let's not forget that Daisy that was still in her hair, even in her tired and sleep ridden state, it was there. I guess there must be a reason for it, a significance that the flower holds and I just want to know exactly what that reason-"

Harry's writing came to an abrupt stop, his journal shutting suddenly as a presence joined him at the table. He looked up to see it was another boy and as he looked around the room he came to realise that in fact, everybody in the cafeteria were male. Maybe, that's why Kooky wasn't to be seen, he thought to himself.

"Hi," the boy spoke. He looked to be of around 25 years old and had blonde hair, a stocky build and was adorned in a checked shirt and denim blue jeans.

Harry eyed his surroundings to check that the boy was in fact speaking to him, not wanting to embarrass himself. And as he checked, there was no one else close enough for the boy to have been greeting.

"Hello," Harry replied.

"The food here is crap," the unfamiliar boy tried to create conversation.

Harry chuckled, "It sure is," he sighed. "I miss my mum's cooking."

The boy fell a little silent at Harry's comment making Harry feel awkward and somewhat panicked.

"So what's your name then?" Harry asked to try and make things a bit more comfortable.

"Kris, you?"

"It's Harry," he replied with a smile. Kris reciprocated the smile as he pushed his cereal around his bowl with the spoon.

As the conversation seemed to cease, Harry wanted to go back to his journal and finish recording his thoughts but the fact that Kris was there held him back. No one had ever seen the inside of his journal and Harry was glad as he found it quite embarrassing that as a 20 year old man he had one.

"What's in there?" Kris asked pointing to the brown book as if reading Harry's previous thoughts.

"Um," Harry coughed awkwardly. "Nothing."

Kris looked at him sceptically. "Come on what is there to hide?" He then pushed his arm across the table and tried to grab the journal.

"No," Harry gasped, as it was now held by a mere stranger. "Please don't," his voice became a little tear ridden causing Kris to stop the fact he was about to open it.

"Okay. Jees I'm sorry," Kris huffed, shoving it back towards Harry. He then stood back, moving his chair from the table. Picking up his tray of barely eaten breakfast, he strode to the bin and scraped it inside before leaving the cafeteria altogether.