A/N: a little something i typed on my phone for yalls. I miss Serenity as much as u all.
I stared around me, not entirely surprised that Belle's room would be covered in different shades of purple and pink. A princess wallpaper on one wall and a cute little picture of she and Harry by her little princess bed. In the middle of the room she had a light pink table with small chairs around it. Some occupied by stuffed animals and four empty. I took a mental note to not sit on Kitty Nemo -- her mermaid imaginary friend.
Huge windows that allowed sunlight to brighten the room had huge hot pink curtains hanging from them. Belle was three and I was seveteen. Sorry, three and two quarters. But yet she has a bigger room than me and probably a more interesting life.
"Do you like my room?" She asked me, still grasping my hand in hers, her big eyes meeting mine when I looked down at her. She was expressing this kind of appreciation and admiration towards me. She undoubtedly liked me and believe it or not children are good to have on your side. I've learned that from Willie.
Anyway, I am glad she likes me, and I can see Harry is too as we begin to chat about the lovely colors of her room and the tea we're about to have. He only smiles a little, though I know in the back of our heads we were intending on doing other things. And leaving Belle for just a little while with one of the maids.
"I love this color!" I told her enthusiatically, just egging on her happiness because it's a precious sight. We sat on by the table, which took a while since I had to squeeze my ass into one of those tiny pink chairs. I could see Harry grinning in amusement from the corner of my eye.
Belle lookes upon her big brother. "Haz, are you gonna join us?" Belle has a cute little accent that isn't merely as thick as Harry's. I can tell Harry's grown up in England and Belle's developed the form of speech from hearing it around the house. Harry being British is only a plus because it's very attractive.
He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not this time, Bells. I'll let you have your girl time with Serenity." He only winked at me, basically signalling to me I'm screwed for the next three hours. "And then she's mine for the rest of the night." He added quietly.
The look in his eyes was so persuasive that I'd nearly agree to scratching his ass rash.
I glared at him. "Well, Belle and I are going to have much more fun than you will all on your own." I shot at him, and Belle -- totally oblivious to what we meant -- agreed.
Harry pouted, only a glint in his eyes reminding me he's not sadenned at all. "That's true, I'll miss you. But trust me I can have fun all on my own."
I almost chocked. Not that I'm totally clueless about masturbation, but honestly I wasn't expecting him to give me clues as to what he's going to do in his spare time. Especially touching himself to the thought of me.
A gag left my lips. Secretly, I was finding it a turn on. "You go do that."
Belle huffed, waving off her big brother. "You are excused."
A small laugh escaped my lips when she spoke to her brother so curtly, grinning when Harry gasped and stomped out of the room in playfulness. He's glad he's not sucked into this.
"He's just jealous." Belle shrugged, placing tea cups and plates for her guests.
I nodded. "He doesn't get to wear pink tutus."
I feel a little bad about being here with someone else's younger sibling when I'm barely around my own. Willie never needs my help unless it involves food or getting his way. You'd think he'd want to reach out for me for someone to play with. But as strange as it sounds he never does.
The tea party consisted of wearing tutus and putting on pink lip stick. She told me she stole some makeup from her mother, which I clearly found hilarious but advised her it was wrong. So we rightfully returned it to her mother's bedroom, which is probably the size of my damn house.
We talked about nail polish and she spent ten minutes talking to me about tea party manners because I was eating small sandwiches probably one of the maids made for her the wrong way. Belle has quite the personality developed. She's precious and I wish I had someone like her at home. It's now I realized I was jealous of Harry's relationship with his family.
"I miss my daddy," Belle blurted out quietly, staring down at her tea cup that was now empty. The pang against my chest was pure sympathy and maybe a little anger. Because what human being with a heart would ever leave this little girl? Or Harry for that matter? I mean, Harry's a pain in the ass but no parent should ever give up on their child.
I didn't know what to reply with. But I just said what came to mind. "Why is that?" Act totally clueless. Score one for you, dumbass.
She frowned. "'Cause Hawy said he's never coming back. I don't wemember him, but I wanna." She sighed. "All the other girls at daycare got one. They said Harry's my broder...not my daddy."
"Belle," I began, already feeling like I was going to burst into tears at this. I got emotional a lot lately, and I'm starting to think it's because I'm caring about Belle and Harry. "Just because Harry's your brother, doesn't mean he can't be like your dad. He loves you like one and you know it."
"But he's not my real daddy!" She whined, getting loud.
I sighed. I didn't want to upset her, and I needed to find the words to say to her. The right ones.
She looked at me and I looked at her. The same look in our eyes. Dismay. "He may not be, but he loves you. And as long as he loves you, you won't need a real dad."
Belle seemed to think about this. "But the other girls have one."
I shrugged. "Remember what you said? You don't like any of them. So don't listen to them. They don't know how cool you are. You're original. And special. So special you don't need your real dad."
I was right. I am right, and I know it. Belle doesn't need the man who left and did the wrong thing. She doesn't need the man Harry says ruined everything for their family. Belle is too perfect, precious, and delicate for something worth nothing anymore.
She and her big bright eyes made my stomach turn. Because they were watery and still full of doubt, but despite it she jumped from her seat and hugged me. I pulled her onto my lap, feeling a sort of connection to her. I know I'll never be able to control myself when I say that she means a lot to me, and she inspires me to show Willie he means just the same to me.
"Can you be my mommy, too?"
Just as those words left her lips, Harry showed up at the door, stern look on his face. Suddenly I was afraid I did the wrong thing by talking to her. Maybe it was wrong because she's going to get too attached to me. Suddenly...I was afraid Harry's going to be angry with me.
"Belle, it's time for you to go to bed."
She groaned and whispered softly a goodnight to me. I knew it was my cue to take off my bright pink tutu and give her one last hug. I hope she doesn't consider me a mommy to her, too. Because hers is still here, and that means Belle doesn't feel loved by her mother like one.
My eyes met with Harry's. He just sent me a soft smile, helping Belle into her "night gown" and promising to fix one of the pink chairs that keeps squeaking.
He left her door half open, turning off her lights and making sure her night light was on. I smiled at the sight, but still wary about Harry and what he might have heard.
As we walked in total silence, I pushed myself to ask him. "Are you okay?"
He didn't respond, but my heart stopped at the sudden pull to his body, his arms tightly around me, his lips finding my own and pressing a soft, innocent kiss there. I blinked, not being able to process he kissed me.
"I did hear absolutely everything you talked about with her. No, I'm not angry. That's just my reaction to everything when I'm insanely horny. And," he breathlessly added, "What you said to her couldn't have been done better."
I chuckled. "You're welcome. And you're insanely horny?"
He rolled his eyes. "If it wasn't for one of the maids coming in to clean my room at that darn moment, I would've taken care of that myself."
"Guess I'll have to take care of that myself, huh?" I grinned triumphantly, only to feel myself getting just as frustrated as him when I felt the highly evident bulge in his sweats near my crotch.
Our tightly pressed bodies had me screaming fuck the need to take things slow.
A sour frown made its way to his face. "No teasing, please. These boxers are getting real tight."
I leaned closer to nibble on his bottom lip. "Yeah..." I teased him, causing him to grunt in annoyance. His bright green eyes looked into mine, eyebrows furrowed as he pressed himself tighter to me. My back finally hit wall, and my legs wrapped around his waist. The sound of our breathing grew louder, and the bulge in his sweats more evident.
The way he looked at me would make anyone believe he was angry.
"Don't try to resist me." He hotly threatened. His lips were centimeters away from mine. His hands were beneath my thighs, breasts pressed to his chest. I have no control over my urges when he's this close to me.
My hands grasped his shoulders. I fluttered my eyelashes at him, feeling good in the very limelight of his attention.
"How are you so fucking pretty all the time?" He whispered, almost shaking his head in disbelief.
"I'm more surprised how you're not looking down my shirt right now," I said, chuckling when he began to smirk.
Harry shook his head, our noses brushing against each other. "I did like eight times. You're too distracted by my beautiful face."
I pushed him away playfully, already feeling the dazed aftermath of his body against mine.
He just gave me a little cocky look. "You like it. Don't lie."
"Yeah, I do. I spent four hours with your sister talking about tea party manners and Mr. Bear's commitment issues. I clearly like you." It couldn't have been more obvious.
I walked with him towards a room, which I was expecting it to be his bedroom. My thoughts were confirmed when we entered a bedroom with dark navy blue curtains, a black leather bed with dark sheets, and black leather sofas and a glass coffee table. It was neat, probably because the intrusive maid cleaned it for him.
The walls were covered in photography. Neatly hung photographs stuck onto the wall by bulletin pins. They were all alligned. Pictures of him, Belle, his friends, Wayne and Zayn, even Clary wearing neon from the party a few weeks ago. They were all just beautiful pictures of his life. Belle wearing a tutu and singing into a pink microphone.
I examined them, just fascinated by his collection of pictures. I was surprised to find one of a bowling ball, probably the day we went bowling. Next to it was one of Harry holding bowling balls to his chest, making a face and being foolish.
And then I found myself. Just one picture, but it was one where I stood there, looking through a rack of clothes the day I went shopping and caught my skirt in the damn elevator.
My lips parted in astonishment. They looked so pretty there. All the same shape, all memories. Needless to say, I was impressed. And not at all weirded out.
"You take pictures?" I asked, almost gasping at the more pictures I see.
Turned away from him, I was unable to see his face. But I felt his hands on my hips from behind. "Yeah...they're stupid. I'm easily bored at times. They're...nothing."
"Nothing? These are really...really good." I smiled, still not turned to look at him.
He scoffed. "They're fucking stupid."
I turned around, crossing my arms over my chest feeling determined to convince him that these pictures were beautiful. I don't even know where this sudden feeling came from, but it made me happy to see yet another side to Harry -- someone who's so open and blunt about everything.
His hands placed themselves back at my hips, an annoyed sigh escaping his lips once I opened my mouth with a whine.
"They're not stupid. They're actually very nice. I like that one especially," I pointed to one of him fishing with Wayne, and it's obviously gone wrong because Zayn's in the water behind them, looking furious. "Zayn deserves whatever happened."
He laughed. "I remember that. He wanted to prove to us he's the better fisherman. He ended up getting his ass dragged into the water."
"He's no real man, though." I grinned.
"And how do you know that?"
I huffed, still grinning. "Has he ever sat on sand all wet? Has he gotten an itchy rash because of it? You're the real man, Harry."
Harry just flicked my hair with his finger. "My d*ck is aching." He grunted, rolling his eyes.
"Let's fix that." I bit my lip.
He grinned at me, already getting closer. "And how do you suggest we do that?"
I pat his shoulder. "Go get a sock and do it yourself."
A/N: sorrry. suuucks. but I typed this on my phone. Remember to COMMENT AND VOTE :)