Malignant [h.s]

Eighty

Amelia Adams

"Babe?" Harry's voice echoes through the apartment. I raise from my seat a bit from his voice.

"In here." I yell from the office, sitting on the couch with a book in my hands.

Moments go by and I suddenly see his broad shoulders walking in the doorway, immediately meeting his eyes with mine. He walks towards me and leans down to kiss my lips before crashing back down on the couch in exhaustion.

"Long day?" I shut the book look him all strewed about, his head laying on the back of the couch.

"Yes." He huffs while taking off his jacket.

"Well you'll be please to know that I'm almost done this book, I have two pages left." I hold the beaten The Catcher in the Rye book in my hand.

"Well finally. You've been reading for a damn long time now." He teases while retrieving the old faded book in his hand.

"Excuse me, I like to take time to really understand what I'm reading." I defend while crossing my arms and laughing.

"Mhmm." He rolls his eyes and hands it back. I look back down at the old worn out cover and run my fingertip over the singes of the burnt parts. I open the book back up and see the Merry Christmas inscription on it and look back up in Harry. I never got to ask him about the before.

"Who gave you this?" I ask while running my eyes over the dedication.

To Harry, thank you for everything you've done.
Merry Christmas.

I thought Harry never had a Christmas. So this doesn't seem to add up because this book seemed like a gift. He looks at the dedication written in the cover and runs his hand back through his hair.

"Oh, the librarian gave it to me when I was twelve I think." He answers.

"The librarian? It looks a little personal to be from a librarian." I arch my brow and look back at him.

"Well yeah, but I was really into books and the librarian always picked out good ones for me to read. I was there after school everyday until I went to juvy." He admits while shuffling in his seat a bit, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his legs.

"Oh. Well what were you thanked for?" I ask.

"I would just help them out a lot. Put the books away, organize them, all that shit to keep me occupied." He mumbles.

That doesn't sound like Harry at all. How does a twelve year old go from helping in the library to getting arrested for.. burning down a library.

"Wait-" I begin, connecting the dots in my head. "Didn't you burn down a library?" I further ask.

"Yeah, yeah I did." He murmurs while scratching the back of his neck. I stare at him in confusion, waiting for him to further explain, but he doesn't.

"Well why did you burn it down if you were there everyday?" I try to pull an answer out of him. He twists the rings on his finger in nervousness, looking down at his lap like a hundred things are surfacing in his head.

"I was angry. The librarian was the only stable adult in my life. She was the only one that somewhat cared about me. My sister and I lived in a foster home around that time and all I wanted was to for us to be adopted. It was mainly for Elizabeth's sake because I wanted her out of that group home. So I asked the librarian one day if she would maybe adopt my sister and I- or even just my sister. But she said no." He explains. I frown slightly and look at the bad memories flooding his mind.