Prince Harry Ih.sI

60

A/n: Marcus is 13.

I’ll def have to edit this, sorry for any mistakes!

…One of the shortest chapters I’ve written, but an update nonetheless!

I don't know what his problem was but I just couldn't put up with him today. After figuring out that he somehow arranged for that play to be based on our so called, "love story," thinking I wouldn't mind it and then to let my only normal nephew, one of whom I could potentially have a healthy relationship with, slip away right before me? Pft. Right now he made me sick.

Truth be told, I’m upset about the whole production at the theatre because I feel like that play just wasn’t right.

I feel like it was better than the actual deal. Because let me tell you, dealing with Harry isn’t as easy as it looks, especially how the actor on stage presented him. He may seem charismatic, funny and extremely presentable on the outside but he can get angry easily, jealous easily, be demanding and all at the same time. The only thing that the play proved to be right about Harry was how big is heart is.

Regardless of how big his heart may be, he did let Marcus run right past me.

"Gisele, will you just eat? God..." Harry says annoyed. He drops his fork onto his plate and a loud clink is heard.

I don't flinch.

I stare at the rather fancy (kitchen) table, blankly. "No, Harry. I've lost my appetite. I've already told you."

"You're surely starving." He says. I hear him pick up his fork and continue to eat. "Just eat, please." He asks of me.

I glance up at him for a second, contemplating if I should eat. I am hungry but I'm too stubborn to admit it. I slightly turn my body away from him and quietly speak,  "I don't get why you didn't let me talk to him..."

"You don't know him, is why." Harry responds quickly.

Oh so yeah, he thinks I'm delusional. That I'm crazy for thinking that it was Marcus. Using points like,

        "A lot of children look similar."

        "You haven't seen him in months, how could you remember what he looks like? He's a boy and they               grow quickly. I bet by now he's probably six foot and has a beard."             

        And lastly, "He lives in District 12, there is no way that was him."

I look up at him, with hope. "Harry, it was my nephew, Marcus. I'm so positively sure that-"

"Okay, let's say it was him." He interrupts. "What in the fuck would you talk about?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. Is he jealous? Why would he care what we talked about, he’s family! "Everything! The fact that I haven't seen him or his father... I was going to ask how Julian was." I say, truthfully. “Maybe he’s visited them, after-“

Harry slams his fist against the table. "Don't speak his name in front of me.”

I uncross my legs, my tears on the verge of spilling. "I want to go to the bedroom."

"Do I need to feed you myself? At least take a bite!"

I grab my fork abruptly and poke at one of the many bite size steaks on my plate, I stuff it in my mouth, grab a napkin, dab my lips and get up.

I hear Harry sigh as I make my way out of the kitchen. I walk so fast towards the bedroom of the hotel room that it looks like a fan is blowing at my hair.