Stay-At-Home Brat

Was It Inappropriate?

Okay, so I *might* have a little obsession with Mr Haston, but he's such a fun character to write so I can't stop myself from bringing him up 😅

Sophia's POV

My heart is knocking as I wait for Archie to say something.

He looks at me intently, his eyes squinty and dark. ''You're acting childishly–''

''I didn't intend for it to escalate like that!'' I exclaim defensively. ''It was out of my control. Don't tell anyone and I won't do it again.''

''You could've injured if not killed us both and the horses...'' he rants on.

I cringe internally and feel anger rising at the same time as he takes the freedom to scold me. Who does he think he is? ''Yeah, and I'm sorry. It was not my intention. I won't do it again. That is if you keep this a secret,''' I stress the last part, considering it to be the most important thing. It would just be dreadfully awkward, and Sebastian would freak out about me almost getting hurt.

''Fine,'' he articulates crossly. ''I won't call your parents.'' He rolls his eyes.

My face scrunches up in annoyance. ''You know that's not what I mean,'' I say snappishly. ''But really...'' My thoughts spin and my head starts to fill with random musings. ''If I was a child in that situation today; who would you call? Like growing up, they phoned my stepdad, but he's no longer in the picture. I guess I have Michael, but I don't see him as a parent and I feel like nobody would want to call him.''

He sighs, recrossing his arms. ''The socials probably.''

''They don't give a shit about me,'' I shrug. ''Or didn't. I haven't spoken to them in 10 years.''

''Fortunately, I have never been in that bad of a situation.''

''I will never get a job where I have to interact with children or parents or the authorities because I have quite inappropriate, cynical, strong opinions, and I lack a filter,'' I tell him, resolved. ''I will never have children. I honestly don't understand why anyone wants to have children, and a lot of the time, I think it's stupid and selfish. I see no benefits whatsoever—only inconvenience.''

It's hard to tell if he took offence. His face contorts wryly. ''Well, those are your choices. No one will force you.''

''Right. Sometimes I wonder if I have a diagnosis, or if it's the world that's messed up,'' I muse. ''Sometimes I wonder if things would be different if I had a normal, decent childhood—most of it was just trauma and tragedies.''

''I'm sorry you have that experience.''

''It's okay. I've been contemplating life since trying to find my path. Everyone seems so naive, shallow and unintelligent. Nobody really seems to see the world like me and go with the flow and stay ignorant and accept all injustice, atrocities and all shit our world is filled with. I don't understand them, and they don't understand me.''

''Perhaps you can get a family discount if you seek help from Zander's therapists,'' he says joshingly.

''Fuck off, Archie!'' I whine, hitting the table.

He smiles roguishly for a second before taking on a serious expression again. ''Well then, I have a task for you.''

--

Sebastian's POV

''...Before lunch, why don't we take my horse out? You can walk the dogs after us,'' Alexander suggests, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his arms. ''I'm going to get a crick in my neck if I sit here any longer.''

''Sure.'' I chuckle, scanning the extensive puzzle-in-progress on the table between us. ''I'm curious how Soph and Archie are doing.''

''You don't need to worry. Archie is strait-laced and sees her as a child, basically,'' he nonchalantly says.

''I don't think she has given up on changing that.''

We walk down the narrow spiral stairs that connect his bedroom and the small library in the loft. His majestic bedroom deserves a book to itself, honestly. As I linger by the stairs, he goes to his closet and pulls out a cardboard box. ''I went comfort shopping one night when I couldn't sleep and bought some new clothes for the chilly autumn days at the stable.'' He lifts the box over to his neatly made bed and turns it upside down, a few garments falling out. ''I got them yesterday and haven't tried them on yet.''

My dogs catch sight of the box and bark at him, and once he pushes it down on the floor, they start a wild game and begin to attack it from opposite sides. Alexander sits on his bed and unfolds a pair of dark brown breeches. As he proceeds to strip to his underwear shamelessly,  I consciously shift my gaze to the playing dogs. They zoom over the polished dark wooden floor, and I dread that they'd leave scratch marks. If he hadn't insisted on me bringing them with us, I would've kept them out of here. I can tell they've completely forgot their manners as well—the grand velvet curtains that were closed when I went upstairs have been pulled in different directions.

''Look!'' he exclaims, and I cautiously redirect my eyes to him and watch him struggle to zip up. ''I'm going to be devastated if these don't fit.'' He lets himself fall onto his back to make another attempt to close them. ''Can you help me?''

I hesitate for a moment, wavering if it'd be inappropriate or not. Regardless, I do walk up to him and give it a go. He sucks his breath in, holding the fabric as closely together as possible whilst I try to pull the zipper up. When I realise the trousers are about to tear, I stop, but our eyes lock, and I remain leaned over him. Memories of us flash in my mind—titillating mental images from before drama and problems took over.
I'm seized back into reality when I hear George's frantic apologies, followed by the door, shutting with a slam. I stand bolt upright and look down at him, his face coated with dismay.

''Dad! I'm just trying on new trousers!'' Alexander exclaims. ''You can come in!'' Blushing conspicuously, he turns away from me and sits up hastily, and watches the door slowly reopen. ''He tried to help to zip these up.'' He stands up, showing the too-small breeches.

''That's what I told Mr Haston when he caught me with my hands up your mother's skirt,'' George remarks waggishly.

''Not appropriate,'' Alexander enunciates with a disapproving look.

George chuckles. ''Anyhow, I was going to notify you; we have a bit of a situation downstairs...''

Next: https://reamstories.com/page/lqj9i1w2uf/story/lw9ffjds1r/chapter/7680a87f-5c64-4d54-b690-224dbc55ede1 (bonus)

https://reamstories.com/page/lqj9i1w2uf/story/lw9ffjds1r/chapter/463fddc7-8df0-493f-9c79-5d4026108c43 (free)