camp cherry two | hs

thirty

tiny baby boy 💔

✩︎

HANA

"Okay, bye, see you soon," Harry hands the phone back to the polite receptionist. "Thank you so much, have a good day," he smiles kindly, picking up his case and making his way back to me, a slip of paper in his free hand. "My mum gave the address for her place, said we could get a taxi now or do something and go later," he explains as we weave our way through the newly arriving guests and stony-faced businessmen towards the large doors, pushing one open and allowing me to reach the busy street outside.

"Okay, so, what's the plan?"

"I guess we go now, drop off our stuff, maybe get used to the house, then get some lunch," he suggests, glancing to me whilst he stands by the edge of the road, a multitude of cars and bikes passing us before he spots a taxi. He flags it down, the driver seeming polite and he speaks English, which is always helpful - though we're both quite fluent in Italian, I haven't spoken it properly for a long time, and neither has Harry.

He gives the cab driver, a man with a greying beard and a hearty grin, the address, passing him the note just in case, and places our bags in the trunk, opening my door a moment later.

"If you don't feel comfortable, tell me, okay?"

"Promise," he links his little finger with mine, shaking my hand slightly and running his fingers through his hair, his mouth stretching with a wide yawn. "I need sleep," he sighs, resting his forehead on the cool glass of the slightly open window.

"How long until we're there?"

The driver must overhear my question, "half an hour, miss," he answers, returning his full concentration to the road not a moment later.

"Go to sleep, Harry," I tell him, ruffling his curls fondly.

"Hm... love you, Cherrypop," he murmurs, sighing softly at the pleasant feeling of my hand still roaming his curls, massaging his head gently and sending him to sleep in the process. He shifts his body the opposite way, resting his cheek on my shoulder heavily, whining out a small complaint when I stop stroking his hair, placing his hand on mine and shaking it to signal to keep going.

"You're such a baby," I chuckle quietly, feeling his expression drop into a frown against me.

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm literally six foot tall," he replies, clearly offended by my comment.

"And? Baby."

"M'not a baby," he insists, though the way he pushes up into my hand like a kitten would suggests very differently.

"Does your heart feel tingly every time I call you baby?"

"My heart feels tingly whenever you look at me."

"That's baby behaviour if I ever saw it," I tease, Harry sitting up straight in mock outrage.

"Stop."

"Just admit you're a baby."

"I'm not."

"You said you didn't like lying to me."

He opens his mouth to respond, pressing his lips into a flat line of annoyance, "I'm only a baby for you," he mutters, "I'm your baby."

"Exactly. Was that so hard?"

"Fuck off, fucking bitch."

"I can't stand you."

"Whatever, whore," he rolls his eyes playfully, both of us seeming to remember his apparent name for me last night and bursting into laughter. "Can you hear us?" he whispers, testing his volume and ensuring the driver couldn't hear him, meaning he's most likely going to say something extremely inappropriate. "Anyway, speaking of, did you enjoy last night? I mean, I know you said it was fine or whatever, but did you enjoy it?"