The List » Zarry (M-Preg) ✔

20: Like Triange

It was only a few days later. The last day of February to be exact. Snow had fallen overnight leaving a white blanket about four inches thick. Harry was really suprised to get that much snow so late after not getting any all winter. But he supposed it was better late than never because then at least Benjamin could go outside and spend the day in it.

So he bundled him up really good in his boots, coat, hat, scarf, gloves and ear muffs and they both went outside to make a snowman together the same way they usually did every year.

Around eleven thirty, Harry went inside to make lunch for Benjamin while Benjamin played outside. Since Harry's kitchen had a window that looked out to the backyard, he knew he could keep an eye on him without actually being out there. So he came inside and began to prepare soup and grilled cheese for lunch.

When he had the eletric griddle warming up and the soup cooking on the stove, he heard a knock at his door. That was a surprise. Last night, he'd had a phone conversation with Liam about writing his book today. But Liam had also added that if it snowed, he might not be there. Therefore, Harry wasn't expecting anyone.

That's why when he opened the front door and saw Niall standing there freezing, he frowned.

"Hello, Harry."

"Hey. What are you doing here?"

"If you let me in, I'll explain."

Harry stepped back.

"Yeah, sure. Come in."

After letting Niall in and closing the door behind them, he looked over him.

"The weather is bad out. Shouldn't you be at home and not roaming the streets?"

"Yeah, I should."

"Is everything okay, then?"

"Not really. Can I spend the night?"

Harry, sighed and headed towards the kitchen.

"If it means you won't be out in the snow tonight, then sure. Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"Okay. I'll get you something hot. How does tomato soup and grilled cheese sound?"

"Delicious."

"Then I'll make some for you. Tell me what happened this time though. Why are you running away from home again?"

Niall followed him to the kitchen.

"My mom. That's what happened."

"Is she alright?"

"She's good, I guess. Except for the fact that she thinks I need therapy."

"Therapy?"

"Yes. Therapy. That's what she told me."

"That you need therapy?"

"Yeah, exactly. It doesn't make sense. I don't need therapy."

Harry pulled back the top to another can of tomato soup and poured it over into the pot with the rest of the tomato soup.

"Did she say why?"

"Something about me always distancing myself from them. I don't know. But I don't need a family therapist. I don't want to sit down and talk about how annoying my parents are to me."

He plopped down in one of the chairs at the table and rested his chin in his hand.

"Ah, so you're saying she wants to go to a family therapist."

"Yeah. Me and dad. It's complete bullshit. Imagine having to tell some judgmental human why I hate my parents in front of my parents. It's just not a good idea. And I don't want to do it."