Pirouette [h.s.]

chapter 21

// Ballerina, you must have seen her dancing in the sand //

// Now she's in me, always with me //

// tiny dancer in my hand. //

"Tiny Dancer" -Elton John

Harry's POV

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"Big man, hurry up!" I call out into the bedroom, earning a glare from Mom in response.

She drops Nate's shirt onto his bed, "Y'know, you could get him ready, if you're in such a rush."

Wordlessly, I nudge her hip with mine, picking up the t-shirt from the mattress, "Fine, mumma, skedaddle."

With a kiss to my cheek and a flick to my arm, she starts for the doorway, "What trouble are you two going to get up to, sweetheart?"

I shrug, "Not sure. Phoebe's show starts at 5, so I'll take him somewhere for a couple hours and then head over for that."

Mom nods, a gentle smile spreading across her cheeks before she steps out.

The two of them wanted to go to Bee's show, but I talked them out of it. I had a feeling that my girl would've gotten overwhelmed if suddenly we all just showed up. She'd need some preparation for that. It's fine, though - when she catches a break, I'll bring them to every single show.

"What are we doing today, Nate?" I crouch down to sit eye-level with him, patting my hand against his leg, "I have Bee's show in a few hours. Do we want to go to the Pier? Or the park? What are you feeling?" I hold out my hands as I give him the options, waiting for him to pick our destination by grabbing at a hand.

Nate sits in his wheelchair, not strapped in yet, staring at me with a goofy grin, completely unmoving. I know exactly what he wants. He hasn't stopped talking about her since she left on Thursday. Little murmurs of "Eee!" like a never-ending cycle. Sometimes paired with giggles, sometimes paired with whimpers, or tears. I'd think he was mocking me if I didn't know any better.

Today is our brother day - a cloudy, chilly November Saturday. Perfect for watching a dance recital. But, first, Nate.

A sigh leaves my lips and I rest my cheek into my palm, "You want to see Phoebe, don't you?"

Instantly, a solar-powered smile bursts onto his face and he starts squirming around, chanting "Eee!" incessantly.

I'm a little worried about taking him to the show tonight, mostly because I'm not sure how Phoeb will react. I also know that Nate will lose his goddamn mind the minute that angel graces the stage. So will I, but at least I'll do it in secret. I don't want him to distract her. But he really wants to see her. And who am I to deny him? I can't blame him for wanting to see that goddess woman.

"Nate, buddy, c'mon," I try to reason. His green eyes bore into mine, unwavering in resolve. He knows he'll break me down eventually.

With a groan, I give in, dropping my forehead to his knees, "Fine, we'll go see Bee. But you have to promise to be good." I swear I see the understanding pass through his eyes when I glance up at him. "We'll go get some food and then go see her, capiche?"

When I reach for his shirt, the Bee chant ends and whining begins, "Dude, no, stop, you've gotta put a shirt on. You'll steal her from me if she sees these guns." I joke, squeezing Nate's bicep between my fingers.