"Gemma! Do I Have too? He is nineteen years old! Can't he do it himself?" I shout at Gemma.
"No, he is incapable of everything, you know that! I would do it, but I have to work until six, mom gets home at seven. So yeah." she says, grabbing her keys.
"Fine. If you come home and he is tied to the ceiling fan, I had NOTHING to do with it." I say, sulking.
"Bye." she says, smiling deviously.
"I hate her." I mutter to myself.
"Harold! Come on we have to clean!" I shout to him.
"Coming!" he yells and runs down the stairs.
"Where do we start?" I say, as he enters the kitchen.
"I'm starting with a sandwich, I don't know about you." he says, opening the fridge.
I walk over and shut the fridge. "No, we have to get started, Harry." I say.
"Dude! I'm starving!" he pouts, crossing his arms like a two year old.
"You just ate a half hour ago." I say.
"So? That's a long time." he says.
"Ugh. I don't care. You better be done by the time I finish changing, got it?" I say, walking away.
"Got it." he shouts.
I walk up the steps and change into a new outfit.

---

I walk back down, five minutes later. I walk into the kitchen and see Harry shoving a sandwich into his mouth, when his eyes meet mine, I see them travel down my body and food fall out of his mouth, "Ew!" I shout. He start walking over to me with a seductive look on his face. He gets in front of me and I back up, "Ew, harry, get away." I say, just as he slips his hands on my hips. "Get off." I say.
“You want me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement.
He pressed his body against mine, his foot sliding between my two. I let my hands slide down his chest to his abs, feeling the dips. “You want me.” he says. I suddenly found myself hoping that the hardness lightly pressing into my leg wasn't his phone.