At this point, I'm just downright lost.
First mysterious brother. Now mysterious pizza order. What's next? A new mystery boyfriend of hers is going to pop up? I don't know how much more my brain can handle.
Since meeting Sabrina, I've come to the conclusion to just go along with her tactics instead of question them. This bizarre pizza order was one of those 'no questions, just do' moments. So when the doorbell downstairs rang, I decided to follow her lead and go along with her to answer.
Plus I was starving...
Sabrina quietly snooped down the stairway hall, tip toeing down each step carefully so that we could avoid catching the attention of Harry and his 'lady friend', Rylee. We made sure to check the hallway to ensure it was clear, my head poking out of the doorway facing one way, hers facing the other.
For extra dramatic effect, I executed a far from perfect cartwheel, knocking down a vase full of sunflowers in the process. My foot came down on the table, the vase plummeting to the tiled floors with a loud 'crash'. There was no doubt that the sound could be heard throughout the house and the shattered pieces were obvious evidence of the incident that occurred. Broken glass and wonky looking flowers laid discarded across the floor.
Sabrina let out a low shriek, her eyes widening with obvious aggravation, my inability to not be quiet blowing our cover. My hands immediately went up to cover my eyes, embarrassment flooding my, now red tinted, cheeks.
If I cannot see the disaster I made, then it did not happen. If I cannot see, then it did not happen.
Maybe, if I say it enough times, it might actually work.
I see not, I hear not.
That means that if I cannot see, then I can pretend the vase is in perfect condition. And if I do not hear, then I can ignore the shuffling sound in the other room indicating another person coming to witness the mess I made of some stupidly expensive glass vase that was in horrible position, just asking to get karate chopped my failed attempt at gymnastics.
I go to lower my hands from my eyes, however seeing Sabrina's bothered facial expressions, I immediately put them back up. Not only did I blow our cover, but I probably just shattered a hella expensive Gucci Original pot, knowing the family's pricey taste. I wouldn't expect any less by the looks of this place. I would happily offer to replace it, but I don't necessarily have the money to do that.
Unless they want the $5 froyo gift card to Frozen Yogurt Land that's sitting in my backpack, and a few sticks of watermelon flavored gum.
Actually, I take it back. I might keep the gum.
"I am so sorry Sabrina, that I was a complete accident" I mumble, immediately busying myself with picking up the larger pieces of the, now, broken vase. "I kinda just caught up in the moment. Felt like we were setting the scene for some cool action movie".
Sabrina brings her hand up to her forehead, shaking her head in disbelief. She knew I had my moronic moments, but she also assumed I was smart enough to save them for a better time. Technically that's her fault for thinking that highly of me, I never said anything about not executing my ninjago skills when the situation presented itself.
"It's fine, just make sure you keep Harry away from the door, okay?" she half whispered, trying to keep her words low so that the approaching steps of the person nearing us wouldn't hear the exchange. "Wait what," I breathed back, my eyes widening with her strange request,"how am I supposed to do that?"
"I don't know, you usually have something weird to say at the wrong times, make it work" she tossed back, slipping away to answer the door.
No, no, no, nononon. She can't just leave me with that man. I've talked to him once, and during that short exchange I found a way to embarrass myself more than I have in a lifetime and make him instantly dislike me in the process. And I have a feeling this exchange won't go any better.
Grabbing at my hair, I internally continued to freakout, walking back and forth around the broken glass. The mess was only worsening the situation, and adding on to my unease. Harry's not only going to think that I'm a nark, but a clumsily nark. There isn't much worse than that.
Trying to quickly fix the situation before Harry could come any closer to witness my predicament, I abruptly decided to pick up as many glass bits as I could. Which, being a 'clumsy nark', I should have known better.
Going for a particular chunk of glass, my hands not so swiftly gilded past the sharp edge of it, slashing the skin open in the action. The sting of the wound was felt immediately, and a loud yelp slipped from my lips.
"Gosh darn it, can I do anything right" I more so mummer to myself, holding my bleeding hand to my chest.
"Doesn't appear so".
My head spun so suddenly to the sound, I swear I gave myself whiplash.
Harry stood just above me, now wearing a shirt (sadly or not so sadly, I'm wasn't quite sure yet), looking down at my curled up state. His eyes were obviously surveying the mess, as they darted back and forth between the broken glass and myself. He didn't move from his spot and obviously wasn't on planning on commenting either.
I gingerly held up my hand, showing him its injured state, and the glass stuck in my palm.
"Appears you cut yourself love" he utters, eyeing my bleeding hand. I nod my head in agreeance, bringing it back to my chest, hoping the contact would soothe the ache of it.
"Sorry about the vase" I muttered, gluing my eyes to my hand in order to avoid the obvious gaze he had on me. "I tried picking it up, but ya know", I nod my head towards my palm, keying as to what happened, "didn't turn out as planned'.
"I can see that".
A real sympathizer you are Harry, I'm already feeling better.
"Do you have a broom or something I can use to clean this up" I question, trying to keep the conversation going like Sabrina had asked me. Whatever she was doing I assumed wasn't particularly uncontroversial, however I let it slide and continued to keep up my side of the plan.
"Probably" he answers, his tone laced with disinterest. However, his eyes said other words. Harry continued to watch me under his lashes, as I sat on the floor, cautiously picking up smaller pieces of the glass to avoid hurting myself any further than I had already.
However, Harry, having other plans, kicked the glass away with the toe of his shoe and hoisted me up off the ground. A quick "come with me" is ushered, before heading back the way he came.
"A please would be nice" I huff, kicking at another piece of broken glass.
"It would have been nice if you hadn't broken my five thousand dollar porcelain vase, but you don't see me complaining" he shoots back, eyeing the pieces and then myself.
"Ar-are you serious" I stutter, immediately going back to collecting the damaged goods. "I can try to gl-glue it back together or something" I rush, apologies falling one after the other as I tried to pick up every piece as quickly as possible.
"Gracie stop," he huffs, going to grab at my wrist in order to pull me away from my mess.
"No no, don't worry, with a few tubes of superglue this will be as good as new" I argue, still shaking my head in disbelief of what I've done. I don't own anything close to the half the price of that singular vase, how the hell was I supposed to replace it.
Harry continues to shake his head, a small huff coming from his mouth, as he once again pulls me away from the glass. He turns me to face him, my head having shifted upward to look him in the eyes. "It's not a big deal" he persisted, pulling my hand into his so that he could examine it closer.
"We should probably clean this up" he murmurs, more so to himself then me, once again eyeing the gash. It definitely wasn't a pretty sight, and I had to agree that it was definitely in need of some tending to. However the thought of Harry being the one to do it was more unerving than the actual cut itself.
"Oh no, don't worry about little old me. It's already healing see" I point, even though the blood trickling from my hand to my wrist completely contradicted the statement.
"Mhm" he teases, the corner of his mouth pulling up slightly. But as quick as that small uplift came, it was gone. "There's some bandages in the kitchen, just follow me" he huffs, stopping momentarily to seemingly consider something. As if fighting himself in his head, he eventually gives in letting out a quiet, "please".
My mouth gapes open, but I quickly shut it not wanting to seem too flustered with Harry's use of manners. Instead, I silently nod my head and follow close behind him, cradling my hand towards me to avoid messing anything else up. God knows with my luck that I would end up staining a priceless antique couch or painting.
For all I know, they could have the original Mona Lisa hiding in the hallway somewhere. And I'd stain it with my bodily fluids.
Expectedly, the kitchen was elaborate and expensive looking, but of course absolutely gorgeous. Certainly a sight for sore eyes.
Much like the man standing just feet away from me...
Harry rummaged through the drawers and cabinets of the kitchenware, until a small First Aid kit was produced. Placing it up onto the marble island countertop, he opened it and scrambled through until he had the necessary tools for cleaning up my hand.
Taking my hand into his own, he turned to the kitchen sink, dampening a cloth he would use to clean the blood and disinfect. "This might sting a little" he admits lowly, bringing the dampened cloth up to my palm to wash away the staining blood.
I suck in a low breath, the water stinging my cut more than anticipated, pulling my hand away slightly. Doing so only leads to Harry tightening his grip on my wrist in an attempt to sturdy it. A small apology escapes him, however he continues with my cleaning up the mess of my palm.
We continue silently, him working and me watching. The entire time, I'm not quite sure what to say, and instead choose to say nothing at all, more so for his benefit.
Wrapping a large bandage around my palm for good measure, he releases my hand and immediately goes to toss away dirtied wipes. Seemingly done with my hand, an idea pops into my head.
"You know what would make me feel even better", I slowly question, not quite sure where I'm going with the statement. I bite at my lip, as I look up at Harry waiting for his response and reassurance to continue.
Although he gives me a questioning look, he gives a short nod, motioning for me to finish with my question.
"If you would kiss it better", and I go to hold up my hand to him, giving him a visual representation of what I mean.
As much expected, his eyes instantly narrow, shaking his head, in what seems to be either disappointment or disapproval. Possibly both.
"Is that a no?" I mumble, looking back at him with upturned lips.
"Yes" he bites back almost immediately, tone laced with seriousness, unlike mine.
"So that's a yes.." I continue, trying my best to egg him on.
"No" he growls, obviously growing more agitated by the second with my taunting.
Don't get me wrong, I was extremely appreciative of his efforts in fixing up my wound, but the exchange occurring now just felt necessary. I couldn't stand the seriousness and this seemed the best way to lighten up the tense air.
So I decided to do what I do best.
Unleash my inner 5 year old.
"So that's a maybe" I continue, trying my best to get a rise out of him. As much as I'd hate to admit it, he was adorable when he was fuming. Like a little kid stomping their feet and throwing their little tantrums when their parents wouldn't buy them the toy they wanted at the checkout line. The only difference was that this was a 20 year old man, not a 2 year old.
I go to open my mouth again, however before I can do so, a loud voice booms through the house.
"Oh my gosh, Niall what a surprise!" Sabrina's loud voice echoes, making it all the way from the front door to the kitchen that Harry and I are standing in. At the sound of her voice, Harry's body goes rigged, his nostrils flaring in anger.
Oh no, this isn't cute tantrum Harry. This is big boy scary Harry.
And that's my que to leave..,
As if I become invisible, Harry pushes right past me into the room that Sabrina was standing in, now accompanied by a new Blondie. There was no doubt about it, the new boy was extremely cute, and with his looks held a charming charisma within them. His eyes were bright, a contrasting sea blue to Harry's seafoam green, yet nonetheless very pretty. A smile etched its way all across his face, bright white teeth on display to all.
He was, who I assumed by Sabrina's previous greeting, Niall.
Sabrina, noticing Harry's aggressive approach towards the two of them, let out a small snicker, grabbing what I assume was a pizza box from Niall's hands.
"Thanks so much for the delivery, but I'd be off if I were you", Sabrina suggested, motioning her head towards her advancing brother, looking like he was about to blow a fuse.
"Anything for you 'Brina", Niall laughs, an irish accent very prominent as he says so, placing a quick kiss on her check and darting to the door.
The exchange must have been the last straw for Harry because with that, he launches himself at Niall, chasing him towards the door that he had just barely escaped out of.
"I better not ever see you in this house again, or I tear your bloody head from your body Horan, you hear me! I won't hesitate one second" he booms, bringing up a finger for further demonstration.
"I'd like to see you try," the blonde boy cackles back, still making a run for his car. He's much too far down the front yard for Harry to catch up with now, just making it into the clear. However, Sabrina isn't quite as lucky.
Turning around quickly, Harry's eyes caught Sabrinas, his face red and flushed from anger. If it were possible, I swear that smoke would be leaking from his ear sockets.
"Are you serious."
Sabrina simply replies with a deadpan look.
"Sabrina."
"Harry."
"How many times do I have to tell you to never invite Horan over. You don't get it do you. Keeping in contact with him would destroy the business" he rambles, bringing his hands up to tear at the roots of his hair.
"And how many times do I have to tell you" she's bites back, poking her finger into his chest in enunciation, "to not tell me what to do".
"I'm older, I'm allowed to tell you what to do" he jeers, eyes blazing into hers.
Uh oh, you shouldn't have pulled the parent card buddy.
"I'm older, I'm allowed to tell you what to do", Sabrina mimics.
"Are you copying me?" he questions, his agitation seeming to grow slightly.
"Are you copying me?"
"Sabrina quit it".
"Sabrina quit it".
"No, I'm serious Sabrina, you're acting like a child right now" he continues, crossing his hands over his chest, giving him a parental demeanor.
"No, I'm serious Sabrina, you're acting like a child right now".
"Well you little shi-", but before he can finish, Sabrina's off, pulling at my non injured hand in the process, making her way quickly up the winding stairs.
Following behind her, I can't help but envy the childish exchange between the two siblings. Although immature, I am slightly jealous of the brotherly-sister relationship the two share, making me wish I wasn't an only child.
"Get back her right now, I'm not done talking to you about that shit stunt you pulled Sabrina!" Harry belows, but by the time that makes it way to us, we're already back to the top of the staircase, pizza box safely in hand.
Instead of replying, Sabrina pokes her head over the railway, lifting her two middle fingers into the air.
Obviously flicking him off wasn't going to make the situation any better for her, but I had to admit, it was absolutely comical.
"Suck on that ya British Bum!" she yells, tugging me back into the room we originally started in.
Shutting the door swiftly, to avoid hearing any further comments from Harry downstairs, we jump onto her bed and break down into a heap of laughter, tugging at our stomachs from the ache of it.
"You have a deathwish", I chuckle, still having yet to calm down. I go for the box of pizza, but before I can grab a slice, she slaps my hand away.
"Lady's first", she reprimands, going for a slice herself.
I gasp, exaggerating my hurt with a hand over my chest and a flop backwards onto the bed.
"I'll keep that in mind when you ask me to cover your shift at the bakery" I grumble back, finally getting my own food.
"You wouldn't dare."
"Nah, I wouldn't".
And with that we fall into another cycle of grumbles and giggles, continuing the rest night laughing until our bellies ache.