blue (book one) - h.s. ✔️ watty's 2019

chapter 39

"Fucking Parker. Calm down," Harry commands voice rising.

"We are already half an hour late because you just had to stop for pizza rolls," I say practically yelling. About a mile ago we just had to stop and try pizza rolls from an older, heavyset guy with a street cart. Harry was so enarmored with the idea, claiming that there's nothing like it in England, and pulled over  against my wishes to partake on the mini food. Since then we've been running behind on time.

"They were roadside pizza rolls! Are you fucking kidding me?"

"When do you ever hear of eating pizza rolls on a stick!" he finishes, not backing down in his reasoning.

"You are unbelievable."

"You are unbelievable."

Not this again.

"You're childish," I say, rolling my eyes.

"You're childish." Oh my gosh.

"Harry is annoying," I say, playing his little game.

"Parker is annoying," he mimics slightly, smirking. Oh my gosh. I just can't.

Asshole.

When we finally arrive, I am annoyed by how extravagant the place is. My parents literally have no boundaries.

It's almost like a palace.

Almost.

Their are white horses with carriages positioned on each side of the street as we pull in. The building itself is draped in everything fantasy from beautiful candle lit lanterns gracing the front to the odd-looking, grotesque gargoyles between the hedges.

Waiting patiently for Harry to tip the concierge he comes over and opens my door for me. An action I was not expecting.

"A gentleman," I say and he simply just smiles.

As we walk through the entrance of the building, I reach for Harry's hand and am hurt when he quickly jerks it away. What's changed? I should be used to his mood changes by now. He's so inconsitent it is quite literally beyond psychological reasoning. Whatever goes on in his head is other-wordly. My moment of hurt doesn't last for long when we pass a couple of guys who seem to be staring at the both of us intently. Odd.

As we get closer, he instead places his hand on the small of my back and the small gesture reassures his confidence in me. I take a quick look over the group of guys to see that they are still staring at us.

Just weird.

The inside of the palace-like building is enchanting to say the least: cream colored drapes decorate the windows, a diamond decked chandelier graces the middle of the room, acting as a center piece, beautiful, white lilies cover the ceiling, creating a flower-ceiling, and as if the ceiling wasn't enough, their were two sets of stairs that were connected to one another, meeting at the top to an ice sculpture of. . . my parents?

No they didn't.

"Is that an ice sculpture?" Harry begins, looking at me with his eyebrows scrunched though he isn't confused. He's seen enough pictures of my parents to know how they look. He's basking in this.

"Is that Scott and Joan?"

"Please don't," I plead, embarrassed of their over the top lifestyle.

Simply chuckling, Harry's hand continues to guide me further inside of the building and after a certain point we are stopped by two guards.

It both calms and worries me that Harry's unaware of my parent's (father's) intention tonight. I can only hope that no one makes it too obvious.