Newport Living | Marcus/Harry |
By: F AL SE Gamaliel
Beta: None
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Harry had never found smoking to be a particular turn on. Cigarettes, he had been told since birth, where death sticks. So, he stayed away from people who smoked them. Granted, he stayed away from people in general, but that was beyond the point.
Fact of the matter, was that he could take his eyes off the stranger on the other side of the park. Not in a 'stranger danger, can't look away or else he might rape me' kind of way, more like the 'he is so attractive I would let him bend me over any day of the week' kind of way. Which, considering his prudish (because he was, indeed, a prude) way of things, was a rarity.
But the stranger was attractive, to him, at least. Pants that fit tightly, a black shirt that fit even tighter, and a brown leather jacket, he just screamed bad ass.
Bitting his lip, Harry pondered whether he should go and introduce himself, and mentally shook his head, Don't be an idiot; you have problems talking to normal people, let alone a guy you think is hot.
Which was true. His teachers had stopped calling on him half way through the semester because they were tired of all his blushing, stuttering, and mumbling. Not a way to make friends, but an easy way to go unnoticed in class. Sighing to himself, Harry sent the stranger one last curious look before trudging home.
It had rained earlier, which wasn't surprising, so the ground was muddy and the sidewalks where riddled with puddles. Living in London all his life, he would it easy to ignore the mud and water sloshing into his shoes – he would throw them in the washer and drier, and they'd be good as new – and onto his socks, soaking his feet.
His mom would be home, because she had just been laid off her nursing job, which made her even more of a handful than she already was. She had worked all her life, coming from, not a poor family, but one that couldn't pay for a university. Now that she had nothing to do, she had seemed to develop an OCD with cleaning, dusting, cooking, and anything related to being a housewife.
She had taken up knitting two months ago.
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"Harry, I got a letter from your school today," most kids would be flipping out in their heads, going through a mental list of things they could have possible done wrong to warrant a letter home. But he was a good kid, far too good, and knew that he had probably been accepted for the Golden Honors Society – a group of kids who took classes that condensed two years of one subject together. The classes lasted two and a half hours each, which was about an hour longer than most, but they would only have to go to classes three days a week, with two classes each day. All in all a good deal.
"Oh?" he questioned idly, allowing her her moment of smugness at knowing something she thought he didn't. And, technically, he was only guessing that he got in to the GHS, but considering the fact that he'd been working at it since first year, it wasn't too hard to guess.
"Yes, the GHS has accepted you," she said, grinning ecstatically at him, and he let a grin spread across his face, although he knew it wouldn't reach his eyes. He didn't really care about school, but it was what his parent's wanted – and his parents where the only people he had to impress. He let his mind wander to the kid he had seen at the park to day, but dismissed the thoughts immediately.
"Well of course they would, Lils," his father cut in, a large, grin like smirk taking up half his face, "Harry's brilliant."
Letting a silent sigh fall from his lips, Harry prepared himself to listen about his accomplishments for the next week and a half. Maybe two.
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AN: Okay, so this is really just a testing the waters kind of thing. Don't expect much, because honestly, the only reason why I'm starting this is so I have something to continue when the need arises. But, that doesn't mean reviews aren't accepted and appreciated:)