kitty [larry/in progress]

.one

harry hadn't the littlest bit of an idea on why he was dealing with disrespect in his own house.

he's always been a bit of a wuss when it came to putting people in their places; didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings in the process. but, that was the exact reason on why he got himself into certain situations (i.e. being in that club with that girl who said he'd given her herpes, tripping over and breaking an expensive camera, only to pay much more for it than what it actually cost).

the circumstance he was in now was simple -- he wanted to watch nip/tuck and wasn't being allowed to because of a mate who would much rather watch glee. so, while harry preferred seeing plastic surgeons and their dilemmas, he was stuck with a bunch of melodramatic, hormonal teenagers singing about their feelings.

"oi, harry!" niall shouts; mouth full of the crisps he'd been eating, "look at this part!"

as he glances up, harry's met with the sight of an overweight black lad in 6-inch booties, crooning out a popular adele song.

harry says, "amazing."

"i know, right? now, hush, this is my favourite bit."

it's then that niall begins to sing along with the actor's effeminate, raspy voice, spewing bits of fried potato onto harry's good coffee table.

harry considers finding new friends.

since he didn't want to have to listen to a three-minute duet of niall and the small screen, the man raises up from the sofa they both occupied and excused himself quietly (though it went undoubtedly ignored). his bones creak and groan loudly as he stretches; wincing to himself at the noises his body made.

the singing was loud, but less obnoxious as harry trekked into the kitchen, bare feet colliding with the polished tile of the substantial, clean room. he considers grabbing himself out a beer, but decided against it, as he'd just been chastised for doing so just last week.

niall and the boy reach the chorus when they're interrupted by the chime of the doorbell.

"who would have the goddamned nerve?" harry hears the lad hiss in the next room. the recording stops moments afterwards.

he rolls his eyes before making his way towards the front door, taking a second to ponder over who could have been behind it at such a late time in the evening. he doesn't recall ordering takeout.

harry doesn't consider himself a giant. so, when he opens the door and doesn't see anything at first; then, has to glance downwards in order to see the person who had tapped against the bell, he's rather surprised at himself, and his height.

at first, he's absolutely positive that it's a girl. the delicate, infinitesimal build, the mud-stained dress, grimy socks, and scuffed trainers. the only thing that told him different was the sharp, boyish jawline, as well as the lack of breast budding underneath the material of the clothing.

the boy is doused from head to toe in dirt, and the visible parts of his flesh are pink from the outside weather. his short, oddly-colored hair was tangled and strewn messily amongst his scalp. there's an embarrassed, meek expression on his face; as if he'd been caught doing something that he ought not to do.

"can i-- um, can i help you?" harry asks uncertainly.

the boy stares up at him, as if he'd just realized that harry was there. he frowns quickly, shifting from one foot to the other.

then, he says, "help?"

his words are short and hesitant, as if the last thing he wanted to do was to speak with harry, and his cheeks seem to grow redder after he's finished speaking.