Third person's pov ::
Harold's age : 15
Sunlight penetrated through windows as Helen pulled the curtains apart,
"Rise and shine my king, it's time for your school." Helen walked towards the bed before pulling the blanket away from Harold.
"Mom, just two more minutes." Harold groaned as the sunlight was directly hitting his eyes.
"You've got your vocal classes now." Helen said as Harold smiled before sitting straight on his bed.
"So my king is now going to get ready for his singing class." Helen said it in a sing-song way while pinching his cheeks.
Harold frowned and rolled his eyes.
"Mom!!! Stop calling me king, I'm not a baby anymore. Call me Harold. Even my other friends including Dylan call me king in a teasy way to irk me." Harold groaned and in return Helen smiled.
"Let your friends call you king because you are a king. The meaning of your name Harold is leader.....a king." Harold shook his head in dismay before getting up from the bed before making his way to the washroom.
"Your dad arrived last night from Italy." Helen suddenly said as Harold stopped in his tracks before turning around.
"Why he always goes to Italy every now and then?" Harold asked as it has been more than a month since he last saw his dad.
"Italy is your dad's hometown, no questions in that and we're having breakfast together, so come soon." Helen replied sternly as Harold nodded and walked off to the washroom.
For a while even she wondered, why her husband keeps visiting Italy but as always she just shrugged the thought off and exited the room before marching towards the kitchen.
"Is everything ready?" Helen asked Daria, the housemaid.
Today Helen has asked her maid to prepare some Italian food for breakfast as her husband loves Italian cuisine.
Helen and Daria, together arranged the table for the family. In a meanwhile Harold came and after a minute his dad also came.
The three of them sat on the table as Daria served them the breakfast.
"So how is school going?" Marcel asked Harold.
"Good......dad." Harold replied glanced down at his watch.
"I'm getting late, I think I should leave." Harold stood up from his chair.
"Finish your food Harold." Helen said in a stern voice.
"I've got a class in ten minutes mom." Harold hastened.
"Which class do you have at half past eight? your school begins at quarter to ten." Marcel butted in while narrowing his eyes at Harold.
"I have my singing classes now....dad." Harold replied in a small voice.
"Singing classes??" Marcel's brows dipped together.
"Yeah, your son loves to sing, Marcel." Helen said with a smile as Marcel passed her a curt nod.
"How about you join a shooting classes instead of singing. Train yourself in some manly thing boy." Marcel shook his head in disapproval as he was not happy with his son singing.
Harold didn't know how to reply for Marcel's response as he just nodded before exiting the house.
"Singing is Harold's passion, you just can't be unhappy with that and he hates shooting stuffs, you just can't force him into that." Helen said in a disappointment.
"He is my son too." Marcel scowled before getting up from the chair.
"But--" She was cut off as Marcel walked out of the dining area. Her shoulders slouched in defeat as she didn't know the reason behind Marcel's strange behavior.
Day by day Marcel was being distant to her and she didn't know the reason why?
..............
Harold entered his classroom as he saw Dylan approaching him with a random girl, his hand on her waist.
"Hey king!!" Dylan called in a mocking tone as Harold rolled his eyes.
"It's Harold." Harold gritted.
"Come on... your mom strictly asked me to call you king instead of your name. She said king is your name." He clicked his tongue.
"My mom is just obsessed with the name king and--" Harold was cut off as the girl cupped Dylan's cheek and cooed.
"Baby!! It's so boring in here. Can we go to the cafeteria." She batted her eye lashes.
"Sure babyyy...." Dylan trailed off as he saw Gwen entering the classroom.
He, in an instant pushed the girl away from him and said.
"You can go now." He waved a dismissive hand as the girls eyes widened into a glare.
"What do you mean??" She exploded.
"Shhh....just go!!" Dylan waved his hand at her and girl's face contorted into an angry scowl.
The infuriating girl in return popped a middle finger out before cursing him out loud.
"Son of a bitch!!!!!." With that she walked away.
Dylan and Harold, both stared at her retreating figure with widened eyes.
"Holy mother!!! She just did not curse my mother." Dylan stated in disbelief.
Harold responded it with a fits of laughter.
"You should stop this Dylan, dating random girls for fun. You like Gwen, just go and tell her." He said while composing his posture.
Dylan sighed.
"It's not easy, Gwen is not like the other girls, she's different."
Their chit-chat ended as Mrs Harris, their teacher entered the classroom.
..........
Meanwhile, Helen was in home. She missed her office because Marcel was home today but Marcel was out for some business. She looked at the suit case which was placed at the corner of her room. She smiled and walked upto it to unpack it for Marcel.
She dragged the suitcase upto the bed before lifting it and placing it onto the bed. She opened the zipper of the suitcase revealing Marcel's clothes. She took one of his shirt and hugged it with a smile, the scent in it was different, it was not his. Maybe he changed his cologne. She thought to herself.
She started folding his shirt neatly, when something from his shirt pocket fell onto the bed. She took the the small object and observed it, it was a beautiful brooch. She smiled as she thought it was a surprise gift for her from him. She kept the Brooch back into his pocket and resumed with folding.
After folding she took the shirts with her towards the cupboard.
She opened the cupboard and placed all the clothes neatly inside the cupboard. She took the neatly folded handkerchiefs with her before opening the drawer of his cupboard.
Her eyes widened as she saw two different guns in his drawer along with some small packs of whitish powder.
She took the packet in her hand as she couldn't believe what her eyes were seeing.
No!!! It's not his.
She consoled herself as suddenly a voice boomed through the room.
"What are you doing with my things??!!"
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I hope you all liked the third person's pov 💖
Actually writing thirds person's pov is way difficult than I thought.
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