Highest Rank #61 in Fanfiction! Juliette McGill finds the perfect position as a nanny for a young boy with special needs. Only when she arrives at the family's home in British Columbia, she discovers that the boy is not quite what she expected and t...
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It was a restless night and the following morning was probably as awkward as it might have been if I had actually slept with Theodore. He was grumpy and aloof towards me, clearly pouting because he didn't get any last night. And then Harry woke up in a pissy mood. I had never seen him that way before. I wondered if it had to do with the timing of his medications the previous day but he hadn't acted like this when we accidentally skipped a whole day of his medication.
It felt like an alternate dimension as we packed up to head home. It was the polar opposite of the past three days when we had enjoyed ourselves and each others' company immensely.
Harry wouldn't look at me or talk to me, even when I tried to give him a hug and ask what was wrong. Like anyone else who's in a bad mood, I decided to just give him his space. Theodore gave him another sedative on the plane. He sat up in one of the captain's chairs and looked out the window until sleep overtook him, and then he rested with his head cocked at an uncomfortable looking angle until we touched down in Vancouver.
When we were finally back home in the suite, he went to his room and shut the door. He didn't come out for the rest of the day and I didn't bother him until dinner time.
I knocked on his door and heard a mumbled answer. I slowly pushed the door open to announce my presence.
"Hey," I said, taking a seat on the bed across from where he was sitting, propped against the headboard. A smattering of books lay around him, but he didn't appear to be actively reading one. "Are you hungry?"
"No," he grumbled, not looking at me.
"Harry, honey, what's wrong? You're not yourself at all today. Are you feeling okay?"
He continued his pout, staring down at his lap. "No," he admitted.
"Are you sick? Can I get you something to help you?"
"No," he grumbled again.
"Does something hurt?" I asked, trying to get to the bottom of the problem.
He nodded and I scooted closer. "What is it? I want to help you. You know I'll always take care of you."
"It hurts in here," he said, putting his hand over his chest. I recoiled slightly, wondering what had hurt him that way.
"Please talk to me," I said. "What happened that made you hurt in here?" I touched his chest where his hand had been a moment earlier and he gasped in surprise.
"Is Theodore your match?" He asked sadly.
"What?!" I said loudly.
Oh shit.
"Did you see us last night?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "You kissed him."
I looked up at the ceiling and tried to gather my thoughts. How could I explain this?
