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There's a ding of the elevator and we hear a couple of thuds followed by footsteps approaching the nursery, and there stands Harry, wearing a long sleeve black shirt and black skinny jeans.

It seems as Harry has taken off his shoes at the door, considering the loud thuds and the absence of his shoes on his feet, but instead a pair of, you guessed it, black socks

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It seems as Harry has taken off his shoes at the door, considering the loud thuds and the absence of his shoes on his feet, but instead a pair of, you guessed it, black socks. You can tell that he's been here multiple times if he has taken a habit of taking his shoes off at the door when he arrives, since Zach makes us.

Not to be racist, but the running joke between the three of us is that the only reason he makes us take off our shoes at the door is because he's Asian.

"Hey guys! Got an extra brush?" He asks as he walks on the tarp paper towards us, and he glances towards me before licking his lips.

"Hey Hazza! We've got one right over there, so let's get to work!" Claire says enthusiastically.

He picks it up and dips it into the light blue paint, and goes over to the wall. He spreads the paint across the wall very patchy-like, and I know Claire would flip if she saw it so I went over to his side to help him it a bit.

"Geez, you're wasted. Can't even paint straight." I mumble before rolling some paint onto the wall where he was previously at.

"Yeah, thanks. And I'm sorry if I'm being very unprofessional right now. But you'll grow to see this side of me more often." He shrugs, and I roll my eyes.

Him and I continued painting on his side, until I feel a cold liquid splatter on my back.

"I swear it was on accident!" He rushes, but I have already taken my brush and swiped it across his face. He looks gobsmacked that I actually did that, and his jaw is literally on the floor.

"Yeah, sure that was an accident." I snark at him, and then went back to where I was painting.

"You're gonna pay for that." I hear him mumble, and then I feel two hands come across my face, smearing on paint.

I turn around and place my hands into the paint bucket, going towards him to smear it on his face, but he grabs my wrist and stops me from doing it, causing me to start squirming and fighting back. "Let me go!"

"No." He chuckles, turning me around so that my back faces him, still holding my wrist. I push back into him and try to slip out from his grip, but it's useless.

"Hey, stop all of that and be useful!" Claire scolds us, and we both say sorry. Harry still hasn't let me go, so I clear my throat to give him a hint and he says "oh yeah, my bad" and lets me go.

𝐁𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐒 {𝐇.𝐒}Where stories live. Discover now