The Fence || h. s.

33 || Kids in the Kitchen

A/N: No warnings for this one, just a disturbing amount of cuteness.

Despite Harry's countless attempts to make me give in to him, my resolve remained strong throughout the following days. When I told him that he's not getting any with his mother around, I meant it—even if I had to use up the last remaining reserves of my self-control. And with each stolen longing look, soft whisper or fleeting touch shared between us, it was becoming increasingly harder to keep my cool.

Clearly, the possibility of Anne catching us in the act is something that bothered me way more than him. 

Either way, no meant no.

It's three days after Christmas Eve when Harry—completely out of the blue—brings up James Corden's party that's happening the same afternoon. Apparently, 'we' have been planning to attend it for weeks. Interesting. I'm pretty sure this is the first time I'm hearing about it.

I think Harry's understanding of 'we' differs significantly from mine. 

"We'll be gone a couple of hours tops," he tells Anne, shoving a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. "I know you might get bored, with Gemma gone and all, but I promised to show up with starlet…"

I let out a huff at the nickname, fully intending to swat that infuriating grin off his face when Anne takes her seat between us, acting as a makeshift buffer. "Oh no, don't worry about me!" she exclaims. "I can find something to do around the house."

"Are you sure?" Harry frets with a frown. "I don't want you to think that we're ditching you for a night out…"

"Well, if you're so worried about that, I don't mind joining you two," she answers. "I'd love to catch up with James and Julia."

She looks down at her plate, completely missing the flash of panic that crosses Harry's face. What the heck is he up to? "Ah, but they'll have their hands full with the guests; you'll get bored–"

"I'll be fine, love. It's not the first time you're letting me tag along." Either her son's odd behaviour is lost on her, or she's decided to play dumb. "What time are we leaving?" 

"Yes Harry, what time are we leaving?" I echo in a sickly sweet tone.

Resigned, he sets his fork down on the table. "Sometime around three."

"Splendid! I'll be ready then," Anne chirps, still blissfully unaware of the odd energy in the room. The three of us continue to eat in silence for a while longer before she grabs her coffee and excuses herself to the garden.

My fake smile drops as soon as she's out of the room. "What the hell, H…a party? Care to explain it to me?"

"I didn't think she'd want to go!" he blurts, burying his face in his open palms. A stray curl falls into his eye and he swipes at it, annoyed. "Bloody hell."

The odd display of anger only fuels my confusion. "Talk to me."

"I just wanted to steal you away for a few hours," he mumbles so lowly I barely catch it over the hum of Joni Mitchell playing in the room, "but I guess now we're going to the party."

"Steal me, you say?" the corner of my mouth curves into an amused smirk. "Steal me where exactly?"

There is an obvious hint of frustration on his face as he grabs the underside of my chair, dragging it closer to himself in one swift move. "Just away."

His fingers slowly start to trace patterns on my knee, the delicate sensation forcing me to look up at him. "H," I start, "Please don't tell me you just lied to your mum because you're horny."