Always [Editing]

Always-Chapter 3

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We finished painting about one hour later, your jumper was stained while Jane and I had a horrible paint-throwing war. We thought it would be best to just leave the peace-keeper out of this.

"Oh Harry!" Mrs. Styles opened the door with a cry, "I have no idea where you've been!" Jane's face paled and I shifted uncomfortably in my place.

"I was at Klara's place, Mum." Your mum gave you a tight hug while Jane murmuring apologies over and over again, scratching her cheeks.

"Oh dear, I'm not sure if these stains can get off or not," she said as she frowned at the bits of pink on your jumper. You told Mrs. Styles that it was fine but I was feeling terrible. I shouldn't have worried Mrs. Styles this much.

"Klara dear, do you want to stay for dinner?" in a second of time, your mum had switched her attention upon me. I twisted my fingers with hesitation. You were standing by Mrs. Styles but your were so tall. Your eyes settled themselves on my messy hair. I looked at Jane for support.

"You should! We can chat for a bit longer!"

Oh, I thought. I was expecting Jane to find an excuse for me to leave. Soon enough, I was being pulled into the house by your dear cousin, following your footsteps and entered the kitchen.

"Harry, where have you been?" I glanced up and met eyes with Gemma. I almost swore in German but stopped myself just in time. Her face changed from guardless to alertness. "What is she doing here?" she snapped at once.

"We were at Klara's," Jane answered, her eyes lingering on your refrigerator.

"Milk?" you asked. I only knew you were asking me after a brief moment. So I nodded immediately, leaning against the stool in hesitation. From my eyes corners, I saw Gemma narrowing her eyes. I thought it was obvious sly now, that Harry was beginning to treat me like Jane. Or hopefully, something more than that...I decided to just watch you turn your large back to me, pouring a carton of milk into a glass with those long and delicate fingers. When you handed it to me, you were staring down at the glass, our fingers brushed brief against each others.

"Harry, why don't you go grab a new shirt?" Gemma suggested suddenly. The bell in my head rang in alarm almost at an instant. "Jane, you should probably go with him. I don't trust his fashion sense."

You moaned, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand again. "I can do it myself, Gemma." But your sister was too stubborn to hear you. I didn't like it at all.

"See you guys in a bit," said Gemma, not even waiting for your reply. Before she left the room with you, Jane stole a glance from me wearily. In the suffocating silence, I sipped my glass of milk slowly, avoiding Gemma's eyes with all my might.

"So, what are you doing here?" she demanded, her eyes deadly.

"I'm staying for dinner. Mrs. Styles has just invited me..."

"But that doesn't mean we REALLY want you to stay for dinner," You sister cut me off without warning, throwing harsh words at me like daggers to the bull-eye. I didn't like where this conversation was going.

"Look, I don't know why you hate me," Gemma didn't even try to correct me on that, "but I have done nothing wrong!"

"You will," she sounded so sure that I had to pause and rethink my ground. After a brief moment, I opened my mouth again.