Harry likes to think he's a bad boy. That he's in control and everyone else is simply in the way. Well... that is, until a certain babysitter comes into his life. She's not afraid to make him listen. She can see straight through the façade he tries...
He keeps having all these thoughts. They make him regress and he doesn't want that. He doesn't want to be little. He needs to be but he won't. Not right now. Not while he's stuck in the passengers seat in the Range Rover with Rose right next to him. He refuses to.
This all started yesterday. When she decided to comfort him after he was suspended. He wanted so badly to regress. He wanted to be taken care of and be cared for, but he knows better. He can't slip up. He has to be normal. Or as close to it as he can get. He won't let the word on his tongue come out. Won't let himself get close enough to.
Instead, he settles on being a brat. He keeps a glare on his face as Rose drives and ignores every word she says. In turn, Rose says nothing. Does nothing. She leaves him be.
She's exhausted. Honestly. Tired of trying to figure Harry out. Tired of continuously being shown disrespect. Just tired of this job all together. One moment he's fine, the next he's sweet and the next he hates her guts. She's sick of this.
As the two step inside, they're greeted by Dante. Harry watches his eyes, not liking how they linger on Rose. It's disgusting. Dante's eyes shouldn't be allowed to be anywhere near her. He shouldn't even be allowed in her company. Yet here he is, undressing her in his mind. "What a douche", Harry thinks. The look of obvious disgust is evident on his face and he doesn't even realize he's glaring until he's met with a thick Italian accent. "What are you glaring at, broccoli boy"?
He doesn't like that. No. He hates that. How could he call him such a name? "The fuck did you just call me"? "You heard me". "Don't call me that". "Or what"? "Or I'll kick your fucking face in". With every word spoken they're steps get closer. Then Dante's in his face and Harry hates that even more. "Oh please.You're a child. Why don't you go suckle"? "Okay, Guido. Why don't you just fu-"? "Dante. Scusa lui. È molto stanco di questa mattina". Dante shakes his head, taking Harry's muffin and throwing it to the floor, squishing it down with a smug smirk. "Next time, that will be you, broccoli boy. Learn some respect".
Rose can see it. The anger building up and about to boil over. Deciding the two have been staring long enough, she picks up Harry's squished muffin and takes the boys hand. "Saremo presenti in cucina. Ci scusi". She takes Harry to the kitchen, glaring when he tries to pull away from her.
When they get there, her glare digs into him but he won't falter. "Let me go", Harry grumbles. "No. Listen to me-". "You listen". He stops talking when she grabs his jaw and pierces his eyes with her own glare. "Listen to me Harry and listen good. You will respect everyone in this damn kitchen. You will respect my bosses as well as me. Do not piss me off". "And if I do"? She jerks his head, bringing his face closer. "Do not test me Harry. Sculacciare fino a quando non è possibile sedersi. This is your only warning. Do not fuck up". She drops her hand and walks away, walking to the trash to dispose of the muffin. As she walks back to her station, she ignores Harry's form and only starts to roll out her noodles.
The two stay quiet. Ignore each other. Stay in their own bubble. That is until Vince walks in.
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