Gabriel: Prequel

five

(Harper's POV)

"That's a messy situation you have, Harper."

"Not as messy as your weekday nights," I retort, falling onto the nearest seat - a tattered sofa that's covered with piles of dirty clothes, before I cover the frame on the table stand, not ready to deal with familial memories.

Since Gabe and I decided to make things official, it was nice to enjoy his company and feel loved and respected, and not frowned upon. There's still an uncrossed line between us, in which our personal problems, our deepest fears and hidden secrets stayed, untouched. It was enjoyable to begin with, but feelings had become more than something so shallow, making the secrets I harbour much harder to keep. Hence why I'd come to my brother's house for reasoning - which inevitably turns out to be a mistake.

"For fucks' sake, Griff, it wouldn't hurt to clean from time to time," I mutter, pinching at a piece of dirt on the sofa. He'd been skipping from apartment to apartment since he was my age - mainly because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants. And after all the moving at an early age, he'd been left with a grubby apartment, which he hardly ever spent time at, instead seeking comfort with past flings. Mess scattered most corners of the place - bar the bedroom. Even though he let me have a room here, too, I opted out, not quite wanting to be stuck in a small place with dirt at one end, and the moans from his partner's excitement.

"That's some ill-mannered talk from a lady," he waggles his eyebrows, finally taking a seat next to me, "you're turning out to be the spitting image of Mother."

I send a pointed look at him, flipping him off. That's rich talk coming from him, in all fairness, especially considering how he really does look like her child: the same beige, rough skin; the identical set of humorous, hazel eyes, and the unmistakable, sad smile. Both of them carried a smile that never quite reached their eyes, even when they were grinning from ear to ear.

"Too bad she's not here to deny that claim," I murmur wistfully, absentmindedly shuffling my feet.

Even during that remark, I knew it would've been better to stay silent, and not mention her absence in our life - it was a damn good thing, though - whether Griffin wanted to admit that or not.

He sits up straight, tapping my leg. "No parent to interrogate the boyfriend means I have to."

An incredulous laugh slips out of me at his words; perhaps the incredulity came from a part inside of me not wanting that traditional confrontation - especially considering Gabe's home life. "Absolutely not. He isn't the type to be into that, and neither am I. We're busy people."

Griffin raises a single eyebrow questioningly, pursing his lips. "Busy for teenagers, my ass. You're not even here half the time, probably doing some illegal shit that I don't want to know about."

I don't want to lie to him, or confirm his thoughts, so I change the subject smoothly, "He's got football everyday, and his home life is fucked up, so I don't think it'd work."

"Football? You're dating a jock?" Amusement glistens in his hazel eyes, practically begging me to hit him.

A smile fights its way onto my lips against the defiant fight of my body. "He's not a single brain cell jock, he's...he's cool. He's special."

"Harper, Harper, Harper," he grins, poking at my ribs, "I have never seen you smile like that, or ever. You're in love."

I return the poke by jabbing my elbow into him, a scowl resting on my face. It's too soon for love, it's more like a a mutual like. Definitely not love. "Whatever, Griff. I just wanted to give you a heads up that I'm not coming home for a while, there's some loose ends in my life that need sorting out."

Any trace of humour vanishes, steely concern taking its place, "Stay safe, please. I don't want another person in my life to just leave like that, especially not you."

I nod, pulling him in for a quick, fierce embrace - afraid that if I let the hug continue on, I'd change my mind. He's right after all: another person leaving would fuck him up, and the guilt of that possibility is enough for me to stay safe.

I wave my hand airily and head out, stopping briefly to unearth the frame from the clothes; I reach the door, glancing at the frame of my mom, Griffin and I, smiling together - where their smiles did reach their eyes.

__________

Standing at the grand house in front of me, I lean against the familiar tree, careful not to slump against it.

I'd thrown all the rocks I found at his window, leaving only nimble branches and fallen acorns. None of which caught his attention. I scowl at his lateness, pulling out my phone to call him again, only for him not to answer. Again.

Eventually, his back door swings open, and Gabe sheepishly walks out, his body swaying side to side at a bad effort of trying to be cool. "Sorry, I was just working out."

"For an hour? Hard to believe."

"Want to see the proof?" He waggles his eyebrows, his hands at the hem of his shirt, ready to pull off. I save him the effort, scowling. He shrugs in response, grinning and taking a seat by the tree. "Join me."

As I walk over next to him, the memory of our last encounter at his tree wades through me, caressing some hidden part of me. I sit next to him, with ample space between, but he pulls me onto his lap; his tan hands stroke idle circles on to my arm, causing a small shiver to run down my spine.

"I have a proposal for you."

"Oh?"

I crane my head to look at him, resisting the urge to touch him, to feel him. "Yeah. I'm going away for a few days, care to join?"

"I can't, I've got school, football - family," he adds with a grimace.

I almost forgot his bastard family: the abuse he sits through but won't even talk about, only dances around. I glower at the thought, but the warm smile across his lips relaxes my face. 

"Just come. There's no destination, and no responsibilities - just you and me."

His lips curl into a wicked grin, "Just you and me?" 

I nod, flicking him in the shoulder for the inevitable sewer thoughts running around in his head. He shakes his head slowly, resting his head back against the tree, letting sunlight flood across his face. "I can't. I've worked hard to get where I am in football; it's a dream I don't want to ever give up. You have yours, and I have mine."

I glare at him incredulously, "Can you not play football anywhere else?"

Gabe opens his mouth in protest but I hold up a hand, getting up and dusting off the dirt from my legs. "Save it." For a while, neither of us speak, his head hung in silence, and mine tilted to the side. I want to travel with him, and keep him away from his family, with me; I want to protect him so he never feels like he has to achieve something or else. I want to wipe away his worries. Behind the garden, the sun begins to set, the streams of light filtering between the trees onto the grass, signalling a good time to set off.

I take a step back from him and the tree, sticking out my arm. "If you don't take my fucking hand, then you lose - you lose to dickhead dad, and you lose to yourself. You'll stay trapped here, create a new family and fail them and yourself. Trust me - trust us. So, are you in?"

Gabe stands up slowly, glancing between my hand and his home- not home, his house. He wouldn't be able to call that place home; my gut twists in anticipation, silently begging him to take my hand and put trust in us. 

"Looks like I'm in."