Falling In Manchester

Chapter Seven - Harry

I thought this would be the shortest chapter yet, turns out be the longest so far. Enjoy.

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"Hi, Mom," Harry spoke into the phone. He was sitting on the floor in his room, working on collecting all the pieces for his new dresser correctly—it was not going well. Seconds before his phone had chimed, his mother's face popping up on the screen. Gladly, he had swiped right. Happy to do something else. "How are you?"

"I was calling to ask you the same, and give you some information regarding Christmas."

"Christmast?" Harry asked. "Mom, it hasn't even been Halloween yet. Please don't tell me you have begun decorating—"

"No, don't worry," Anne rushed out, chuckling. "But... Robin and I were thinking of travelling this year. On Christmas, I mean."

"What?" Harry asked, confused. "What about Gemma and I?"

"Gemma was planning on spending Christmas with her boyfriend anyway," Anne said. "And you know Robin and I have wanted to travel during the holidays for years now."

"Yeah, but still," Harry said. "Where does that leave me?"

"Maybe you could celebrate with Niall?" Anne suggested.

"Yeah, maybe." Niall was travelling to Ireland that year for Christmas. "Anyway, I will figure something out. It's great news for you guys, you must be really looking forward to it." Still, he was slightly put down by the news.

"Yes, we do," Anne exhaled. "Anyway, now tell me, how's my favourite son doing?"

"I'm your only son, Mom," Harry pointed out. He moved to sit on his bed, the work of his dresser momentarily forgotten.

"Still favourite," Anne said. "Now tell me."

Harry lay on his back, eyes gazing at the ceiling. "It's going pretty well, actually. School is great, and... I've made friends." He wet his lips, his mind wandering to Louis.

"Any cute boys?" Anne asked, and Harry could practically hear her wriggling her eyebrows through the phone.

Harry groaned, running a palm over his face. "Mom."

"What?" laughed Anne. "You never know."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, pondering if he should tell his mother about his crush on Louis. He told her almost everything after all. "Well... there is someone."

"Do tell."

"What about no?"

"Come on, just something."

Harry exhaled, his cheeks flaring. "His name... His name is Louis, he is taking the photographers course. He's in his third year, and... he's so, so lovely, Mom."

Anne cooed. "You sound smitten."

"God," Harry groaned.

"Just remember our talk about anal sex, Harry—"

"Mom!"

"I mean it, remember to use condoms, also lube, or else it will hurt really—"

"Mom, I'm not even dating him. I swear to God, I will hang up if you don't stop."

"Alright," chuckled Anne. "Jesus."

"Don't bring Jesus into this. Now, how have you been doing?" Harry asked, hoping to direct the conversation away from his nonexistent sex life.

"Things are going great," Anne said. "Robin works a lot, nothing new there. The cats are fatter than they should be, so everyone is enjoying life."

Harry chuckled. "I miss you."