Houseboy ➳ Larry AU |English|

Chapter 3.

He arrives in the kitchen breathing heavily, rests his hands on his knees and sighs deeply, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Hello, you must be Harry." He raises his head to meet a woman who looks to be in her fifties. She smiles kindly at him and Harry makes an effort to smile back.

"H-hello." He answers breathlessly. She notices how tired he is and doesn't hesitate to pour him a glass of cold water.

"I see you're having trouble on your first day. Can I help you with anything?" She asks, approaching him with the glass in her hands.

"Louis... Room... Housekeeping." He babbles and the woman laughs.

"Of course, Louis. Here, drink some water." His hands shake as he takes the glass she offers him, and drinks the liquid.

"Thank you very much." He says when he finishes drinking the water and feels calmer.

"How old are you?" She asks, taking the glass that Harry hands back to her.

"Seventeen." She is surprised, opening her mouth.

"What's a boy like you doing working as a houseboy in a house like this?" Harry bites his lip.

"I need the money to cover my expenses." He answers sheepishly. She seems to understand, and gives him a smile.

"Then welcome, I look forward to serving you." He smiles gratefully.

"Thank you." The woman nods.

"What do you need now? You look lost." Harry looks around.

"Uhmm, yes, I need a broom, a mop, a bucket full of water, air fresheners, and cleaning gloves." She looks at him dumbfounded.

"Are you going to clean Louis' room?" He nods, the woman grimaces. "He hates air fresheners, you'd better know that. If you use any product that leaves a pleasant scent in his room, he won't hesitate to throw you out."

"Oh... So what can I do? What can I clean his room with? What does he like?" He asks worriedly. Jimena folds her arms, sighing in defeat.

"Nothing. He doesn't like anything, any cleaning product. He's very sensitive to strong smells. Just clean with the broom and picks up his dirty clothes to clear the way." He stores the information in his memory.

"Yeah. Then I just need the broom... And gloves."

Harry waits for the woman to fetch the broom and gloves, then thanks her with a smile.

"Good luck." He hears her voice before he walks through the door, and turns to look at her.

"Uh?" She laughs, shaking her head. Harry doesn't understand why she's laughing.

"With Louis." He frowns, even more confused.

"With Louis?" He repeats. Jimena takes long strides until she reaches him.

"You should know that all the previous maids have quit because of him." Harry bites his lip, trying to keep his questions on the edge and not look too interested.

"What does he do to them?" He asks nervously.

"Just chases them away, in a.... Peculiar way. But you're a man, he'll probably try to chase you away, but not in that way."

"What way?" He asks curiously.

"He harassed the poor girls, it's normal, he has raging hormones at his age. But they were too old for him, none of them reciprocated, that's why they quit. They couldn't stand him. Tell me, who in their right mind would want to put up with a romantic-seducer-stalker teenager with a reputation as a womanizer? I guess nobody, that's why they hired you. Maids don't last long in this house." He blinks, holding back the information.