Saturday 12
Anne was trailing behind Harry as they made their way down the corridor, his steps being quick and too spritely for her to keep up with. Over one shoulder she had her handbag, and over the other she had Harry’s satchel. The boy had been too –Anne couldn’t find another word to describe it, even though it was too strong in an emotional sense to fit the situation– excited that the brown bag on the back seat had been left abandoned. He’d jumped out the car in such a hurry that he stumbled over his long feet, which seemed to set him back to normal speed.
Anne had just chuckled at him and shook her head in bafflement. There wasn’t even any need for Harry to be so excited; nothing out of the ordinary was happening. It was a normal day: not a birthday, not a special event. No, it was a normal Saturday for Harry. For Anne, it was more of a wakeup call that there were only 4 weeks to go until the concert to end all her charity work in the Uni. But that didn’t affect Harry at all, well, maybe a little. But after what she’d heard the week previous from the boy in an intimate chat, she knew the end of the event wouldn’t make any difference.
So Anne had followed Harry into the Uni, motioning to her co-worker that she’d be over in a minute before chasing after Harry down the corridor. Maybe the stumble hadn’t necessarily set Harry back into normal reality, but really, who knew what was going on in that boy’s brain sometimes.
Harry stopped promptly in front of the door which was partially open. As Anne leant on the wall in silence, waiting for him to react, she could see that mischievous glint in his eyes that she hardly ever got to see.
Normally, a parent would be apprehensive to see that glint. They’d sigh in discontent and wait impatiently for the child to just get their mischief over and done with so they could get to work on damage control as soon as possible. With Anne, however, she was the opposite. The years of his childhood weren’t filled with pranks and bouts of tomfoolery. They were filled with reduced laughter and calm, precious moments together. Of course Harry had a joke; he wasn’t void of humour. He actually had a rather dry sense of humour, and although nobody else really knew that, it did come to play in family outings together.
It was easier for Anne to see a more –not to sound like Harry was boring, dull and serious– fun side to Harry when they were out on trips. At home, he usually either locked himself in his room, stared at the telly for hours on end, or practically chained himself to the piano with the amount of playing he did. That wasn’t to say he never spent time with the family in the house; he was just easier to socialise with in the park or on a picnic somewhere.
But that’s getting off track. All those past years, Harry never had anyone apart from Gemma to pull pranks on or meddle with to devise such plans with. What with Gemma being a girl –a girly girl at that– she was never that interested. Therefore, seeing Harry being able to openly express such naughtiness was a surprise. A good surprise though, a heartwarming surprise.
A lot of things had changed in the past three months –three months? Anne couldn’t believe it’d been that long since Harry had met Louis–, mischief and happiness included, all for the better.
Anne was brought back to the present time when Harry tapped on her arm, the glint still dancing in his eyes, and raised his finger to his lips. Anne would never say, but her heart would always break whenever Harry did something like that, something that was telling others to silence in a way anyone who could freely speak would do. Harry didn’t have the choice to obey or disobey someone doing such a thing, so seeing him do it was even more painful.
The mother nodded in understanding and crept silently behind Harry as he pushed the door openwider and tiptoed over to Louis. Louis was tinkling on the piano aimlessly and unaware of the sneaking bodies. Anne hovered by the door, worried she’d mess the whole plan up by taking further steps. She looked on as Harry’s hands lingered over Louis’ oblivious shoulders for a few seconds, before plummeting down on them rapidly. Louis jumped in shock and let out a girlish squeal through his mouth which hung agape, matching his widened eyes, both in turn sending Harry in fit of cackling laughter.
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Mute Larry Stylinson Harry!Mute
Fiksi PenggemarHow is love supposed to speak, when one can’t even choke out the words? Louis’ life was a joke through his witty words. Harry’s life was a joke through his lack of words. Louis was classed as a normal child; mentally and physically. Harry was classe...