Beg ✟ h.s. au (M)

t h i r t y - f o u r

"Maybe I'm too late to be your first. But right now, I'm preparing myself to be your last.."

Lay it Down x The Rubens

"Harrrryy," I whined carrying out the syllables of his name from the top of his bed. My back lying flat on the cushioned mattress as my hair flowed off the edge. Harry sat over at his desk working on his pre-cal homework. His parents went away for the weekend, and seeing as his house is much more roomy, we decided to go to his instead of my own. "I'm bored." I finish with a huff. I crane my head to the side to see him concentrated on his work. My whining only beginning to annoy him.

"I told you I was going to be doing homework. I told you it'd be boring, but did you listen to me?" He asked rhetorically swiveling around slightly to face me, a slight smile on his face. "No, you did not." And he turns around again.

I pull myself up slowly to sit myself criss-crossed on his bed now. I take in his room, having been in here a couple of times, but not looking too in depth.

Heaving myself off the bed, I walk over to his dresser where picture frames and trophies lie. My eyes go back to the picture of the small curly haired boy I saw that first time I came over. A wicked smirk came upon my lips at the thought of how we began. The smirk soon turned to a disheartening frown as I think of how far we had come since then.

Had I known I was going to fall in love with this genuinely kind, and pure person, I would have made sure to leave him alone. But had I not fallen in love with him, I don't think I'd ever believe in it.

I set down the picture before I get too lost in the mess I've made or the pit I've fallen into. Into the mess I made, but I fixed it I think to myself. There's nothing to worry about.

My nimble fingers daintily cross other photos and prized trophies, awards and so on. He sure had a lot to be proud of.

"Do you ever just," I began holding a 1st place baseball trophy dating back to 2009. "I dunno, wish something were different?" I ask freelanced, my brain just thinking out loud.

I hear his pencil fall against the wooden desk, and the wheels on his office chair move. I don't hear his footsteps though, and I don't quite mind as I absentmindedly move the award in my hands, spinning it so.

He didn't speak right away, my thoughts becoming awkward at the question. I spun around slightly before adding, "You know, never mind. I was just-"

"The way I was raised," was what he said, cutting me off. I set the trophy down before turning completely towards him, slowly inching toward him as he spoke. "Well, not completely everything, but certain aspects I wish were different."

I reached his chair, moving my hand to his shoulder physically instilling myself to listen to his words. My eyes locked on his as his forearm stood placed on the desk, his body fully facing me.

"Like what?" I asked placing myself on his open leg, sitting on one side of his lap. The curiosity running through my veins. Did he really have things he'd want to change? His life looking as picture perfect as it could get, and he would still change it?

"Honestly, my mentality." He huffed moving an arm behind my back, supporting me. "They way my parents raised me to see things as right and wrong. I wish I was free to think for myself, ya know? Like be able to do normal teenage boy things and not worry about what my parents would think."

My eyes watched over his expressions as he spoke. He seemed almost angered at the thought of how his parent raised him, but at the same time guilty. I always wondered what it was like to have some parental guidance, some form of rules, discipline even. Some sort of mentality, family belief. I always wondered what it was like, and sometimes, I even wished I had it. Maybe that's why I was so drawn to Harry. He was the taste of what I never had, as goes for me.