Harry ~age 17~
Everything was fine until he showed up.
I had finally been adopted, and I even liked my new parents. They've been nothing but sweet to me, trying to help me assimilate into their lives comfortably, and after a week, I was beginning to feel like this place was home.
Well, apparently, their celebrity son didn't want me to feel that way.
The moment he saw me, his face fell as if he just opened a gift to find stinky, yellowed socks.
I tried to be amicable, saying, "Hello" whenever I passed by him or he entered the room. I said please and thank you when asking him to pass the salt at the dinner table. Hell, I even bought him a new shirt from Jack Wills when I went shopping with Gemma last weekend.
I found it in the attic a few days later, in a box labeled "Garage Sale."
So, now, I was going to confront him about it. It was obvious that he had a problem with me, and because i was now brother and sister, I thought I should approach him and try to solve it.
I knocked on his old bedroom door, where he stays whenever he visits, and it opened instantly.
My elder brother stood there, with nothing but his briefs on, and when he saw me , his face visibly changed to disgust.
"Oh...it's you," he leaned on the door frame. "What do you want?"
"To talk," I whispered, feeling a bit intimidated by him.
"About?" he arched a brown eyebrow.
"Our relationship," i replied, avoiding his gaze, "or lack thereof."
He remained silent but stepped aside to let me into his unkempt room. I couldn't see the floor; it was covered in clothing, some i sure weren't clean, and his bed lay unmade, his comforter spilling onto the floor.
"Take a seat," he said, closing the door behind us.
Where? There was no place to sit!
"Um..."
He gestured towards the bed, "There."
Deciding it was in my best interest, considering i was here on a peace mission, to do as he said, I pushed aside some of the clothes that were thrown on his bed and made a place for yourself.
"So...speak," he commanded, muting the volume on the Telly.
"Look, I know we aren't related by blood and all, but I really want to try to be a family with you. I mean, I tried being a good sister; I never did anything-correct me if you think I'm wrong-to make you despise me the way you do," I began, trying to keep myself from shaking from pure nervousness. "I just want to know what it will take to make you see me as your sis-"
"Stop right there, and listen," Harry said, frowning. "You're right. You did nothing wrong, and we aren't related by blood. Therefore, we can never be brother and sister."
I tried not to cry at his heartfelt rejection, "But...can't we at least get along?"
He shrugged, "I guess, but don't expect me to accept you as quickly as everyone else did. Gemma may see you as a sister, but I never will. Got that?"
Why was he being so cruel? From what i heard, Harry was a complete gentlemen with women.
I looked down at my lap, feeling a drop roll down my cheek. I moved your hand to wipe it away my saying, "Can't we at least be friends?"
Harry let out a sigh, "I'll be nicer to you, if that's what you want, but I'm too busy to get involved with some girl my parents brought home, thinking she could just be a part of this family. So don't expect me to spend time with you and stuff like that. I'll talk to you...I'll be polite, but that's it."
"Fine," I growled, getting up from his bed and heading for the door. I kept my head down, fearing he would notice my tears, but from what I had seen, I honestly didn't think he'd care.
