Just One Little Favour

Eighteen

A weight presses forcefully into Harry's stomach, that it jolts him awake. His eyes spring open to peer up frantically at big spring blue eyes, a smirk pulling the boy's lips.

"Joseph?" he mumbles with a sleep filled voice.

Joseph sighs dramatically, flopping on top of Harry's chest, arms outstretched either side of him.

"What's up?" Harry asks, rubbing sleep from his eyes and stifling a yawn.

"I'm thirsty and bored," he drones out, turning over so his face is squished into Harry's bare chest, groaning into it.

Harry pats the kid's back gently. "Where's Lou?"

Joseph shrugs. "Snoring so loudly I almost lost my ear voice."

Harry snorts. "Ear voice? You mean hearing?"

"That's what I said," Joe huffs.

Harry's shoulders shake with silent laughter. He ruffles the kid's long hair before brushing it back and using his hairband to plait it, then putting it into a small bun atop his head.

"Have I got hair like you now?" Joe asks after protesting against Harry tugging at the knots from sleep.

Harry smiles. "Yeah."

Joseph's cheeks creep in shades of rose. "I like your hair." He reaches up and touches Harry's free curls. "Is Nanna Anne up?"

Harry shrugs, Joseph's words tugging at his heart strings as he knows that Anne really doesn't have a grandson, that it's all a lie. But he finds reason within himself to not feel too guilty about it because it's his mother's own fault for not really being there for him, for believing this God awful lie and for timelessly trying to force him into relationships after relationships, especially after— nope, he won't go down that road.

Joe is trying to click his fingers in front of Harry's face, but the sound comes up weak. It catches Harry's attention though, which is probably what the child wanted as he's tilting his head up at him.

"Are you even listening?" Joe sasses.

Just like his uncle.

Harry smiles. "I zoned out a bit there. What did you say?"

Joseph's lips thin slightly. "I said, are we playing with the cats today?"

Harry raises a shoulder. "I'm pretty sure Nanna Anne wanted to take us shopping. But we will have plenty of time to play with the cats this morning before breakfast."

"What is for breakfast?"

"Guess we should go and have a look, eh? Come on." The sheets crinkle and rustle from where Harry tries to get up, Joe already springing off of him and thumping to the floor— with his teddy in his grasp after retrieving it from the end of the bed where he left it.

Harry quickly shoves his leggings on, some that he left behind here, kind of debating whether or not to actually wear them as Louis is bound to laugh at him. But he can't change them when Joseph is tugging his hand to follow him along to the door.

He quickly retrieves his hoodie from the door hook, skipping down the stairs with Joe running down beside him, their feet thumping against the carpet loudly.

No one is up when they walk into the kitchen. Well, Anne and Robin are bound to be up but just not out of bed yet. They sometimes like to have a little discussion in the morning, Harry knows this, and from the way he would eavesdrop ocassionally on their conversations as a teen, he knows it's almost always about him or Gemma, or both.