Til Kingdom Come [Harry Styles- Bk 4]

ch.69 His namesake

Danny glanced at Gemma from the corner of his eye, then they left their separate ways. I shook my head. There really wasn't much else I could do to put Danny and Gemma back together. They had to solve this on their own.

I returned my attention to Des, who had run off to his room, gripping a crumbled piece of paper. Harry faintly noticed Des skulking off, but he wasn't suspicious of the same thing I was uneasy about...

We all gathered around the dinner table. It felt strange to see Darcy's seat empty. Des hung his head low and stuffed food into his mouth without bothering to take a breath. Something was really bothering him and from all his snooping around lately, I knew it had to do with the house, Harry, and Harry's parents.

"Des, there's plenty of food, honey, take a deep breath," I spoke up calmly.

Des didn't hear me at first, then he glanced up and nodded. He ate just a tad bit slower. J.D. mumbled under his breath, knowing something I didn't.

"I know, I'm sorry," Des mumbled. "I just gotta do something so I have to finish dinner early," he explained vaguely. He glanced at Harry's jacket. I didn't even realize Harry was wearing it, but Des did.

"You haven't finished training for the day," Harry spoke up tersely, eyeing Des.

Des swallowed his chunk of beef and stayed quiet for a minute. His eyes met Harry's jacket zippers and pockets. He watched as Harry's biceps stretched the jacket just a tad, as he moved.

"Harry, he can't train after dinner; he'll throw up," I reasoned gently. J.D. and Farah kept quiet, watching us all the while.

Harry laughed and punched Des casually in the back, making him choke slightly.

"What are you talking about?" Harry chuckled. "He's gotta train even harder now. They're choosing captains for next season and if he doesn't win all his matches, he's got no chance."

Des took a deep breath and continued to eat quickly. His entire plate was filled with meat and greens. At this rate, Harry would turn my sweet son into a raging heavy weight champion.

Harry turned to Des, pointing at him with his fork.

"You've gotta shape up if you wanna be captain. And being captain as a junior is an honor," he nodded, placing a hand over his chest.

"I know, dad," Des mumbled, eyeing Harry's jacket once more. 

"I'm serious, Des, you can't just give a half-assed attempt," Harry warned.

"Dad--" Des mumbled.

"Harry," I spoke up.

Harry blinked at me, almost having forgotten I was there.

"Harry, you need to relax a bit. Des is barely 16," I reminded him. Harry threw his head back and laughed.

"In Ancient Rome, 16 year olds ran full empires," he spat.

"Well we don't live in Ancient Rome," I hissed, narrowing my eyes at him.

"He's a man, not a boy, Angela," he reminded me, nodding at Des, then at me.

"Well no matter how old he gets, he'll always be my baby boy," I declared, gripping my fork tightly.

"Mom," Des whined quietly.

"You're turning him into a wus," Harry shook his head in disgust.

"I am not," I folded my arms over my chest.

Harry glared at me. He grumbled under his breath and continued on eating. He siped his drink. I took a whiff and sure enough, it was some kind of grubby beer.