Polite//l.s

Six

Just keep in mind, Harry is extremely really sheltered. Like, he hasn't had outside exposure at all besides his parents, people at the parties, and his tutors.

"Harry," my father spoke as I walked through the door. He was stood sternly in the lobby.

I knew he would be upset.

"Hello Father," I bowed my head to him slightly, showing him I still respected him.

"I'm aware I had given you some freedom after you had met the guests, but that didn't mean you could leave; especially in light of the events that followed your absence," he stood tall and blank as he spoke, very business-like and professional.

"Events?" I cleared my throat, momentarily forgetting who I was speaking with, "Forgive me Father, but I haven't the slightest clue what you're referring to,"

"A drunken man," he dismissed the topic; irrelevant in his eyes, "Your mother nearly had a panic attack looking for you whilst the man destroyed the party,"

I wanted to look away from his harsh gaze, but I knew he would only be more upset with me if I acted rudely towards him now.

"Your morning tutor will be here in twenty minutes, please use your additional time to reflect over your mistakes," he turned to walk towards his office, "Don't disappoint me again,"

It saddened me to hear him say this. Not because I couldn't please him, because I wanted to disappoint him again; I wanted to sneak out of parties, to meet beautiful strangers and do things I haven't before.

It was as exciting as it was wrong. What had happened had gone against nearly everything my mother had taught me about manners; yet, I still wanted more.

Times like these, it makes me wish my father had allowed me to have my own phone; I wish he would trust me enough to go out on my own and have the need for a cellphone.

My sister has one, a shimmery champagne color, she always goes to country clubs and socialite events; doing what she's supposed to.

Perhaps my father knew that if I had the freedom she had, I would do things like I had last night. Share a bed with someone I didn't even know, let them see me indecent, kiss someone in the filthiest way I could imagine.

The way I had felt when Louis and I had parted, had made me think there was more than the filthiest way I could imagine; made me feel that there was so much more I had been missing out on than just kissing.

I suppose I could get my own phone. I wanted to see Louis again, but I knew I would probably never come in contact with the boy again.

He certainly didn't seem like the type to go to parties such as the one where we had met, but still- he was so intriguing.

He had a mouth on him that made me want to cringe, but I wanted to hear him talk more; even if he just spews profanities all day long.

It was silly, but I wanted to go out and use the 2,000 pounds my father generously donated to me and my sisters personal bank accounts each month to go buy a cellphone.

Sadly, my father monitors all transactions and requires receipts for anything over one hundred dollars.

My sister spends her money vicariously; while I probably have close to £50,000 in my account.

I just laid on my bed for the fifteen minutes I had left, simply thinking about an array of topics; floating from Louis all the way to what color my wallpaper should be next.

Alexandria knocked on my door at 10:30 exactly, telling me my tutor was here.

I badly needed a shower, but alas, I opened the door to greet the maid before gathering my desk supplies to carry downstairs.

After today's lesson, my father would have the trainer come over; as he does every Sunday, and have me in the gym for a good hour or more. He would probably work me harder today considering I had upset him. That's okay. I deserve it really.

Today's tutor was my favorite. Preference was frowned upon when it came to people that worked for my father, but I felt like I could talk to this one, my English tutor. She was different from the other tutors; younger, less strict, and she had a different method of teaching. Her lessons didn't make me feel inferior like the others did.

Either way it was learning and it had to be done, but most days I wish my English tutor could teach all subjects.

Her name was Ms. Valae and I had to suppress a smile when I saw her auburn hair in the study.

"Is that Harry?" She asked rhetorically, turning in her seat to see me as I walked in, "My favorite student!"

Most of the tutors only had this one day week they worked, so I was her only student.

Nonetheless, I smiled at her complement.

"Hello Ms. Valae," I sat across her at the mahogany desk, "How are you today?"

"Are you ever.... less formal?" She joked, placing her books on the table one by one as she took them out of her bag.

"I don't want to be rude is all," I brought out my own books for the lesson, glancing at my copy of the syllabus momentarily to ensure I had all the right materials.

Ms. Valae began rambling about the book she wanted me to read next, a short story, an easy read, a high school level book.

I wanted to ask Ms. Valae her first name, I wanted to get to know her better. She and the other tutors  all the interaction I get besides my family, I may as well establish a relationship with them.

Thing is, as I began to ask her what her first name was, the words caught on my tongue; reminding me that it wouldn't be very polite.

Okay. Rant:

Sometimes it's just upsetting that some authors refuse to update unless they get a set amount of votes or comments, then limit the people to only two comments or whatever a chapter, like I get that it's encouraging and everything, but this person I used to follow literally just threatened to delete her account unless all her stories got 20 votes/ chapter.

That's ridiculous.

Sorry. End of rant.