Yours - Larry

3

I smell Lottie's blood before it reaches my bare feet. Her wrists and ankles are bound. Her tears are creating a pool that mixes with blood as I try to reach out.

"You were supposed to protect me."

I'm drenched in sweat as I push myself into an upright position. I run a hand through my hair as my breathing evens out again, suppressing my urge to cry as I push my emotions away and get up so I can pinpoint Harry. The door to his study is open once I reach it, quiet music playing as I step in to see him working. He's concentrated, but he's only wearing sweatpants, so I catch myself eyeing his bare stomach—or as much as I can see, which includes half a butterfly.

"You're up."

I look up to meet his eyes. "Yeah. Did you get me some soap?"

"I put it in your bathroom when I came back yesterday."

"Thank you," I say, quiet as I stay a moment. "Are you... what are you working on?"

"I'm supposed to work on our company's project. It's a hospital expansion, but I've gone astray."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says, leaning back, which isn't curing my staring. "Last night you mentioned I need more rooms in case I want nurseries. And you're not wrong. I've been working on my next house since... I'm not even sure, but... come see."

I step towards him so I can see his drawings. "It's a mansion."

"I suppose so."

"It's nice," I say. "Impressive."

"You're not just saying so?"

"No."

"You'd wanna move in?"

"I'd say so, yeah."

"I assume you went exploring yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"What was your favourite part?"

"Does it matter?"

"Humor me."

"I guess... your pool area. Or your pantry."

He grins. "Anything you'd want?"

"A game room."

"That's not a bad suggestion."

"It's not up to me."

He hums in response and writes a messy game room in his notebook. "You need to wear a suit on Saturday."

I raise an eyebrow. "Can we rent one?"

"No," he says. "But once you've eaten, we can go out and buy you one."

"Harry—"

"Don't argue," he says, wrapping a hand around my wrist. "Do you want me to make you pancakes again?"

"I'm not hungry. But maybe we can eat when we're out?"

"Sure. Go get ready, yeah?"

I grin as I go back to my room to clean up and wash away my sweat. I put on ripped jeans and a regular t-shirt, sorting out my vans as Harry comes in to check on me.

"I'm ready."

"I assume I can't convince you to eat?"

"I'm really not hungry yet."

"Alright."

"Can we go in a vintage car instead?"

He grins. "Sure."