take my hoodie ✓

fifty-seven | caught

~no pov

Harry had been narrowly avoiding being hit for the past few months. It wasn't good for Vernon, who was struggling to figure out how he should release his anger.

See, Harry was still being a saint. He still cooked and cleaned, but he was never around when Vernon was. It had been working for months, pretty well might I add, up until Christmas.

Christmas dinner was pretty extensive and took time, and since no one worked on Christmas, Vernon would be home. Harry slipped in and out of the kitchen all day, only coming back in when he had to. He was sneaky, quiet, and yet he still got caught.

When he knew Vernon had left the house, he put in headphones and listened to music as he cooked. Unfortunately, he zoned out at some point and didn't hear Vernon come back in. For the first time in months, Vernon caught Harry at home.

"Boy?"

He sounded more so surprised, than mad.

Harry physically stiffened, and stopped moving completely. It felt like his lungs decided to stop working too. Slowly, he turned around and willed his lungs to function properly. 

"You're here?" 

"Er, hello."

It then clocked in Vernon's brain. "You're here."

The change of tone sent a shiver down Harry's spine. Would it be stupid to run?

bitch you cant run you can barely fucking walk

"I'm just, er, cooking dinner." Harry said quietly. 

There was an eerie quiet between them, both unmoving, until Vernon abruptly stepped forward and punched Harry in the gut. The younger brunet instantly doubled over, clutching his stomach.

Vernon was grinning. That was exactly what he needed, and had needed for the past few months. He wasn't going to go easy on his nephew, not now. He'd finally gotten his chance to destress, and with the sneakiness Harry had recently, he didn't know when he'd get the chance again.

The older man punched Harry's side, hard, causing him to fall down onto the floor. Harry's head had narrowly missed colliding unflatteringly towards the kitchen tiles, but found its way there after a foot met his back. 

"Please." Harry begged quietly. "I- The food." 

"The food can wait."

Vernon continued to kick the brunet all over. His shoes were still on, so the leather made the hits hurt even more. Over and over, the Dursley's shoe came into contact with Harry's skin. His arms, back, abdomen and legs were going to be decorated in colourful bruises soon. 

"I'm sorry." Harry choked out, not knowing how else to get his uncle to stop. It had been a long time since he got beat. The way Draco treated him made him forget how Vernon did, and it wasn't nice to reexperience it. 

"You've been gone for months." Vernon kicked him especially hard, right in the shin. "How was I supposed to take out my anger if you weren't there?"

"Go to therapy like normal people." Harry couldn't stop himself from replying with sass, something that furthered Vernon's anger.

"How dare you?" He picked his nephew up by the back of his neck. "Boy, you're so heavy now. All that excessive eating. You were better when you were anorexic."

"Shut up." Harry tried to get out of his uncle's grasp, but couldn't. "You have no idea how hard it was being anorexic, you fat pig."

He was slapped in the face, glasses digging into the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones.