better than that [larry stylinson] ✔️

" no you can't pin me down "

THERE WAS GIGGLING that came from the basement for the thousandth time today. He knows that he shouldn't be annoyed since this has been happening for months now, but he can't help it. He couldn't just let his mother and himself sit around anymore while his father neglects their family to hang out with some boy from across the street.

Harry knows that there was nothing explicit going on between the two of them, but it was still uncomforting to think about; a grown man and a teenager hanging out together.

From what Harry knew, the boy that his father hang out with -- Zayn -- was severely depressed and came over whenever he needed someone to speak to. That someone happened to be Harry's father, Des, whose attention is rarely averted to his family, nor his own son, who has been suffering with depression for a year or two now.

Harry doesn't want to call himself jealous. Although, that was what it was.

Jealousy.

His father never spent time with him, never attended any of his school gatherings, and would just walk by Harry's door without a greeting. It was like both Harry and his mother were ghosts to his father, though he never made it obvious that it bothered him.

They used to be a normal family; they'd go out to dinner occasionally, have movie nights -- hell-- they even actually had meaningful conversations. It all changed when the Horan Boys moved across the street. Maybe Harry shouldn't point fingers since he shut himself out first when he first saw his father speaking to them, but it was his father's job to realize that something was wrong.

The older man didn't even try.

"Doesn't it bother you that he doesn't speak to us anymore? That he's always in that goddamn basement with that boy?" Harry asks his mother when he hears the sound of the basement door shutting. "You're his wife, and he doesn't even treat you like one."

His mother stops typing on her computer and swallows thickly before shaking her head. "Watch your mouth, Harry. He is still your father."

"Barely," replies Harry angrily, "If he was my father, he'd spend time with me."

His mother doesn't reply, instead keeps her green eyes glued to the computer with her thin lips pursed together. She turns paler than she already is when Harry's hand slams against the desk near her as an attempt to be paid attention to. "Harry."

"If you won't do anything about it, then I will."

Then the boy turns on his heel and stomps out of the room, leaving his mother to sit alone at her desk with her hand clutching the mouse to the computer.

He meant what he said to her, which is why he now sat perched in his bedroom window, waiting for Zayn to leave his house like he usually did around this time. Harry's black gloves tightly held onto the window frame as he kicks his legs forward in anticipation, grateful that no one really came out of their homes in this neighborhood unless there was the sound of a cop car.

Several minutes later, Zayn walks out of Harry's house and heads down the street opposite from where he lives. Luckily for Harry, the boy was going on a walk.

And he knew exactly where.

Jumping out of his window, Harry uses the vines on the bricks to ease his fall, then makes sure to keep his distance as he follows Zayn, who walks with his head down and his earphones blasting music that Harry didn't recognize.

He plans on scaring Zayn to the point where the boy never thought of coming over again.

Right now, Harry is forming words to say in his head. Should he go for the more subtle approach? Should he be threatening so that Zayn gets the point and knows not to steal his father away again? Harry wasn't one for confrontations, but he has to do something to save his family.