Priory // h.s.

chapter five

"Fuck!" Harry's curse breaks the silence.

I look up from shoving shards of glass into a dustpan, and my jaw pops open a little. 

He slipped, and is lying in a pool of green-blue liquid. His hair is rumpled, his eyes are wide with shock, and he's rubbing his bruised rump regretfully, a look of annoyance etched onto his face.

Two seconds of just staring, and I dissolve into laughter.

"Not. Funny," he growls, clambering to his knees and eyeing the stained edges of labcoat. "God, that hurt my arse."

Attempting futiley to cease my giggling, I fail utterly. 

Eyes narrow, Harry pulls himself to his feet and draws himself to his full height, wincing as he does so. "Amber I swear to god, if you don't stop laughing I'll..." He throws a hand in the air by means of showing me the horrors. "You wouldn't be laughing if you just broke your butt."

"I don't even think that's a thing."

"Is too," he insists.

"Then it serves you right for spilling everything in the first place," I tell him unsympathetically.

He swears repeatedly, hobbling around in a little circle. "I need a hospital."

"Oh for the love of God, you're such a baby," I say, rolling my eyes and dropping a collection of glass into the trashcan. "First you make a fuss just because I sit at 'your table'."

"Okay, but-"

"Then you act like a shot goat just because you fall on your stupid butt."

Harry sniffs. "My butt is not stupid. It is too sexy for you."

"You wish," I guffaw. His eyebrows go up, and I realize what I just said, face going red. "I mean-"

"Sure you did."

I huff. "I hope you fall on your face next time."

"Not happening. My face is another sexy aspect of me that we wouldn't want to ruin."

In spite of myself, I can't force any scorn into my laugh. Somehow, a little bit of the tension has faded out of the air from Harry's fall. It's lighter, more of a banter than the two of us attempting to verbally murder each other. 

Getting rid of the last of the broken glass, I straighten and wipe my hands on the legs of my jeans. "There." Eyeing the pooled mess that still lines the tiled floor, I say, "You better hurry up with that mopping."

"Yeah, yeah." He hums a little tune under his breath as he works, the living foil of 'hurrying'. Seriously, we don't have all day. Maura's going to chop both our heads off if we dilly-dally.

Sighing, I lean back against the table. "So."

No response.

"Got any tips for me? I mean like, about working in Priory Inc. Because I've obviously managed to mess everything up so far, and I think I could use some advice."

"And you want advice from me?" Harry says in disbelief.

"You are a Lab 2."

"Fair point. And I'm brilliant."

"No."

"And sexy."

"Negative."

Dismissively shrugging me off, he scoffs. "Denial."

"Just give me some advice, damn it," I insist.

"Honestly, Amber, there's not much I can tell you. Basically, if you're smart enough to get into Priory in the first place, the rest is up to you. Just try to avoid getting on Maura's bad side again." He smirks a little, as if he doesn't think that's something feasible for me.