Punk Harry Imagine

Part 10

Part 10

Naturally, I did the first thing that popped in my head.

I slammed the door in his face.

"Y/N! You don't do that to a guest!" mom scolds.

Dad obviously thought otherwise because he high-fived me. "Good job."

Mom quickly opened the door again. "I'm sorry about that Ja- oh, hi. Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Harry simply shrugged. "It's fine. I get that a lot."

Does he? Does he really?

He sent me an amused smile. "Oh, can I come in?"

"No."

"Of course," mom said, showing him inside.

Why? Why does everybody hate me?

"Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, you have a really nice house," Harry complimented.

That was so fake.

"Ooh, Y/N. I like this boy. But I thought Jason was your boyfriend?" mom said, slightly confused.

I saw Harry grow tense, his nails were digging into the palm of his hands.

"No, mom. We're just friends," I say.

"You better be. Don't ever let that boy touch you," dad warned.

"Don't worry, Mr. Y/L/N. If anything ever happens, I won't hesitate to beat the crap out of him," Harry reassured.

Mom gasped and dad smiled.

Dad put an arm around my shoulder. "I like this boy."

"What about your 'no boys' policy?" I ask.

"That still applies," he says, "but this one's okay."

"Thank you," Harry says, quite pleased with himself.

"Um, mom, dad. Do you think I can talk to Harry for a bit? Alone? In my room?" I ask.

Usually, I would like to be ten feet (or more) away from Harry at all times, but he's not getting my message trough his thick head.

"Sure," mom says, calmly.

"Don't try anything," dad warned.

"I won't. I promise," Harry reassured.

I hated how they were so friendly with each other.

I grabbed Harry's hand and walked him into my room.

"Geez, isn't someone eager?" he teased. "Too bad I promised your dad that I wouldn't do anything to you."

"Since when did you keep promises?" I scoff.

I didn't even have to look at him to know that he had a smirk stretched upon his face.

"Touché. But does that mean that you want me to touch you, Y/N?"

"No, it doesn't. Not everything I say is an opportunity for you to try to make a move on me."

"What do you mean? I'm not doing anything."

When I got into my room, I pulled Harry in and shut the door. I might've kicked a few of my unpacked boxed by an accident.

"How did you find out where I lived?" I asked.

Harry just looked at me and smiled. "I followed you home, duh."

He said that like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I stared at him with wide eyes. "You did what?"

He laughed and made himself comfortable on my bed.

Note to self: burn bed sheets later.

"I was just kidding, lighten up. I live close by," Harry admitted.

I don't know what's worse, having Harry follow me home, or live next to me.

"Define close," I say, remembering that day at lunch.

"Next door."

I cringed at the thought of him being my neighbour.

"I don't recall seeing your parents when we moved here," I admit.

His eyes grew dark. They seem to do that every time it try to get to know him better.

"Yeah, well, it would be weird if you have," he said, referencing when we first met.

"And why's that?" I ask, playing along.

"They don't live with me."

"Oh. Who do you live with?"

"Myself."

"Oh. Why don't you live with your parents?"

His eyes grew dark again.

"Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Your eyes, they- never mind. It sounds weird now that I think about it," I say, giving up.

"Oh, well, I guess I'll be leaving now."

"Y/N! It's time for dinner!" mom called. She came into my room and smiled at Harry. "Would you like to stay for dinner, too?"

"No, mom. Harry was just about to-"

"Yes, Mrs. Y/L/N. I would love to stay."