Looking After the Harrison Boys {Old version!}

LATHB : Chapter Eleven

Previously on “Looking After the Harrison Boys”…

We both fell and my head was the first to hit pretty hard onto the ground. A sharp wave of pain washed over me and I immediately shut my eyes as it roared in me.  Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!

Very slowly, when the pain gradually subsided, I fluttered my eyes open, but they grew wide when I found that his....

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His surprisingly soft lips were resting down against mine and with neither of us too shocked to move, they remained there, until someone finally intruded.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Right after that question was asked, a gush of cold wind blew over me, instantly waking me up from my current state, and I soon realized that Zane was no longer on top of me nor were his lips.

Groaning internally, I slowly rose my semi-numb self up and stood, resting my eyes on George, who was at the door with a weird look plastered on his face. It was a look I knew very well and I hated it every time I saw it. Cause it meant that he knew something was up – when really, there was nothing up.

“There was nothing for you to interrupt,” Zane said in his usual tone as he turned his back to us.

I shifted my eyes from George to Zane. Now why did he just answer with a response like that? Oh goodness gracious me. Why didn’t he let me reply instead? Because I know for sure, my response would’ve been so much better than what he gave.

Idiot!

Without showing the anger I was feeling towards Zane’s stupidity, I placed my poker face on and turned right back to George, smiling as if nothing ‘weird’ happened while imagining myself throwing daggers, spears, all sharp materials known on Earth, at Zane.

“Hey George,” I greeted, entirely changing the subject. “Haven’t seen you in a while,”  

George’s eyebrows went up and he looked at me through his glasses as a big smile rose up on his face. “And whose fault is that?” he said, mocking a serious voice, placing his hands on his hips.

I chuckled softly, my smile growing wider. “Me, right?”

He laughed, “Don’t go taking all the blame Amelia. You need to save some for the old man as well,” and walked towards me with open arms, “Now where’s my hug?” 

This time I laughed, while shaking my head. He acts way too young for his age sometimes, makes me feel old. I opened my arms out and acceptingly took in the hug. His arms instantly wrapped tightly around my shoulders and he gave me small squeeze. Through the hug, I immediately felt the feelings of love and care that a grandpa would give to their grandchildren and it… it made me feel so guilty. And sad.

“I’m so sorry George,” I apologized quietly. A tight constriction started to ach in my chest.

He sighed, unwrapped his arms and pulled away, frowning. “For what?”

“For not coming regularly to visit you,” I replied inaudibly.

“Amelia,” he said in a warning tone. “You should never apologize for something like that.”

“But –“

He held out a hand, stopping me, and shook his head. “No, no, it’s okay,” he told me and stepped away from me, heading towards the counter. “I wasn’t entirely lonely. I had company. Zane,” –he nodded to Zane—“was here all the time and let me tell you, he’s one entertaining fella, but,” he paused and quickly added, “heck of annoying one too.”