"Oh, I'm sorry but come the fuck on. She asked me how my day is going. Take one fucking look at me and you tell me how my day is going?" Harry complained with a huff, taking the paper off the side of his bed and opening it up with trembling hands, looking at the crossword to distract himself. "Dippy bitch."

Harry was rude on most days but right now, he was testy like nothing else and God help anyone who came near him but Hartley. "When you the gay boys get here? Are they bring you baked goods? Cause they fucking better. If they come here with fruit and not chocolate, I'm throwing it at them." Just fair warning.