one; the babysitter

220K 5.4K 2.4K


I have a new babysitter today.

I have a new babysitter today.

I have a new babysitter today.

I hope she's as good as the last one.

Allie-Rose has no idea who this Harry boy is or why she's even here. She was drunk, horrifically drunk, last night and this morning she woke up with a stinging hangover and a voicemail from the girl across the street asking Allie-Rose to babysit her younger brother at exactly twelve o'clock noon. She was confused and tired but in need of something else to do.

"Can you at least tell me why you asked me to babysit?" Allie-Rose frowns, slightly confused as to why Gemma even chose her to do the favor. She's only talked to her once, and it was only to ask if she had a spare bottle of wine for her mother. Perhaps this was Gemma's way of returning the favor, even though the flavor was a tad crappy.

"You're the only girl of his age range in the neighborhood," Gemma sighs, taking a quick, full bite from her apple. "And," she adds, "Harry's no bother, really. Chances are he'll fall asleep after watching his shows."

Allie-Rose's eyebrows knit immediately. Shows? Before she can ask Gemma for his age, Gemma pulls her in for a friendly hug and thanks her again for doing this. It's awkward and a bit sudden, and Gemma soon walks out of the house with nothing else to say. Allie-Rose, once left alone in the living room, glances around, already uncomfortable. She wasn't sure what she was doing, much less how to babysit someone of the opposite gender. Gemma didn't even mention which room was Harry's, but from the looks of it, it had to be--


Allie-Rose turns around and meet eyes with a boy, much taller than she'd expected him to be. He's staring straight at her, eyes (a pretty shade of olive-green) transfixed on how small she is compared to him. She remains quiet, and gives Harry a small wave in return.

"Are you taking care of me today?" Harry asks, still examining her. Her eyes, he notes, were round and blue, adorned by long, thick black lashes that gave her the kind of look Harry liked in a girl. She didn't look like someone guys would look at twice; her figure was skinny and seemingly fragile, and her chest wasn't much to admire, but it was still there. She was real. Harry likes real.

"Er." Allie-Rose looks down at her shoes. Harry was. . .wow. Fit, even, in a slender, weirdly tall, mop-headed sort of way; however, he wasn't someone you'd take one look at and want to swoon over, because he had a somewhat greasy tint to his hair and chapped lips, but he was wow. He also has his hands behind his back. He's had them there for awhile. "Yeah."

"Well, hi again." Harry grins.

"Hi again," he repeats, wincing in discomfort.

"Hi again." He stops there, the smile on his face gone by the third greeting.

Allie-Rose swallows back and breathes out a small chuckle. This has to be some type of joke. "I'm Allie-Rose and you must be Harry," she says, "I live across the street. Your sister invited me to take care of you today, it's nice to meet you." She sticks out her hand and forces the fakest grin on her face, just to ease the tension.

She notices how uncomfortable Harry looks now. "Harry, shake my hand."

"I'm not allowed to."

That's when she sees that his hands are both handcuffed.


The handcuffs aren't meant for anything funny or kinky.
FIND YOU R CHILL I KNOW THE LAST SENTENCE IS A BIT ODD but do i need to remind you that harry has ocd (compulse/urge disorder) or did you not read the parts before this? don't comment saying you're confused, because chances are you haven't read the other parts before this one.

babygirl [ocd!h.s.]Where stories live. Discover now