Platonic [H.S] (Book 1)

09 | Dumb Jokes

It is just before six in the morning when Harry pushes his key into his front door and steps inside his Hampstead home for the first time in two months. We both haul all of our luggage against the wall in the entryway. He then goes for a walk throughout the house, flipping on some lights and opening some curtains while he checks that everything is how it should be. As I am filling up a glass of water at the kitchen sink, I hear the door open and shut again, indicating Harry has returned from the garage. I turn to look at him when I spot him in peripheral vision, turning off the tap as he crosses over into the lounge.

"They're safe," he calls to me over his shoulder before collapsing on one of the couches with a huff.

I gulp down my water not at all phased, knowing he's referring to his cars and put the now empty glass in the sink. I look up at him and know that if I don't get Harry up from the couch now, he'll never want to move from becoming too comfortable. He needs to get some proper sleep. Not in strange beds, not in aeroplane seats, not in tour bus bunks and not on sofas. He needs to sleep in his bed. I exit the kitchen and walk into the lounge room where Harry already looks quite comfortable. He has his arms folded over his chest and eyes closed, appearing as though he is already in a deep slumber. I gently shake him and call him softly.

"Harry?"

He hums in response but fails to open his eyes.

"I hate to do this to you, but you should go to bed."

He hums again, in agreement this time, but doesn't move. I know that exhaustion has fully taken over and I am going to have to help him up the two flights of stairs to his room on the second floor. How fun.

"Come on, sleepyhead."

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he manages to open his eyes a little bit. He holds an arm out and my small hand finds his larger one, pulling his arm to at least get him to a sitting position.

"Alright, I'm up," he says between a yawn, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up enough for the journey to his room.

He stands up swaying, so I grab him by the arm to balance him and stop him from falling. I guide him by the arm around the house and up the staircases, and in proper Harry fashion, he stumbles now and then from being so tired.