Last Login:
October 4th, 2022

Gender: Male

Age: 26
Signup Date:
February 23, 2022


09/21/2022 07:17 PM 

I want a new life and I want it with you.


He had never been a morning person, and today was no exception. Closing his eyes tighter than they already had been during his 4 hours of sleep, Harry grumbled at the sound of his alarm echoing through his ludicrously oversized bedroom. He rolled over in his bed to fumble around for his phone on the nightstand, his eyes gradually accepting the sunlight that flickered through the drapes.

Although he enjoyed going to Empire State University, Harry would have much preferred an extra couple of hours in bed. It was safe to say, he was now regretting attending another college party which as usual, included drinking too much and experimenting with drugs. He wasn’t proud, far from it, but during those moments Harry could escape the anxiety of his inevitable future at Oscorp and following in his father’s footsteps.

A quick shower in his own private bathroom and a change of clothes, Harry was starting to feel slightly more human. He grabbed his phone, wallet, and pack of cigarettes from his desk and left his bedroom.
Walking down the hallway, the Osborn home could never be described as warm or inviting, it was the complete opposite. There were no family photos hanging up, unless you were to count the one photo of his mother that sat proudly on Norman's desk. When visiting his girlfriend’s home, Harry always left feeling envious at how comfortable and unpretentious Gwen’s house was in comparison to his.

Harry headed downstairs and towards the kitchen. The thought of consuming any food made him feel physically sick after putting his body through hell with illegal substances the night before. Despite having no need to visit the kitchen, the numerous members of staff his father had employed over the years had only ever shown Harry kindness, so he felt the need to make an effort to greet them each morning.

As Harry approached the kitchen, he heard a female voice singing a beautiful song, but not one he could put a name to. A smile crept onto his face at the thought of catching the elderly chef singing so joyfully in the morning, something completely absurd in the Osborn household.
“I never knew you could sing.” Harry grinned as he pushed open the kitchen door, stopping in his tracks at the sight of a blonde woman with the most infectious smile on her face. Her eyes lifted from the food she had been cooking as her head turned towards him.
“Sarcasm, Harry? This early in the morning?” Harry hadn’t moved from the moment he saw her, his brain working overtime at the sight of the one person in the world he had always dreamed of meeting over and over again.
“Mom?” His eyes were completely fixated on her. There were a million thoughts rushing through his mind at how this was even possible. “Harry?” Emily mocked his confused tone as she continued to smile at her son, an eyebrow now raised at his bizarre behaviour.

As his brain attempted to string some words together to form a sentence, Harry’s father entered the kitchen. Almost as crazy as standing in front of his deceased mother, his father had the biggest smile on his face.
“Good morning.” Norman’s tone was cheerful as he patted Harry on the back before walking over to his wife, placing an affectionate kiss on her lips.
“Good morning.” Emily stared fondly into her husband’s eyes as her hands draped over his shoulders. “How was your run?”
Norman always went for an early morning jog, the only ordinary event of the morning so far. Except he was usually at the office straight after and Harry rarely, if ever, saw him.
“What’s happening?” Harry blurted out before his father had the opportunity to respond. Emily looked at Norman and they gave each other a knowing look. She slowly approached her son and gently placed her hand on the side of his face, his head naturally tilting into her warm touch.
“Harry.” Her voice was angelic. Harry realised in that moment that he had never heard her voice until today, and it was exactly how he had always imagined it.
“We know what you're doing.” She paused, eyebrows knitting together in concern.
“Me and your father were never saints, but we both agree that you need to cut down on the partying.”
“You have a brilliant mind, Harry.”
His father interjected with a kind smile.
“We know you’ll get back on track.” Harry’s eyes looked between his mother and father, tears threatening to form. He no longer cared how any of this was possible.
“I’m overdue some time away from the office. Let's go out for dinner tonight. The three of us.” Norman smiled, his arm wrapped around Emily’s waist and his other hand gently squeezing Harry’s shoulder. Emily smiled at Harry, her hand remaining on his face.
“Doesn’t that sound just perfect?” She replied softly, just as a familiar alarm started to sound.

Waking up with his own hand resting on his cheek, Harry slowly opened his eyes as a single tear fell across the bridge of his nose and landed on his pillow. One of the many bittersweet side effects of his partying lifestyle were the vivid dreams that followed.

As though it were Groundhog Day, Harry got himself ready in the exact same manner as it had played out in his dream. When he finally reached the kitchen, his heart was pounding at the thought of seeing his mother. With no singing to be heard, Harry slowly opened the kitchen door and instead saw the familiar sight of the grey-haired chef who had worked for his father for as long as Harry could remember.
“Good morning, Harry.” The elderly lady smiled at him. Not exactly the infectious smile Harry had dreamed of seeing on his mother’s face.
“Good morning.” Harry responded, now noticing the empty plate and mug that were being put away in their rightful places.
“Is my dad still here?” He asked, for some odd reason sounding hopeful.
“I'm sorry, you just missed him.” The elderly woman had a lot of respect for Norman, but she had carried the burden of giving disappointing news to Harry ever since he was a child.
She noticed his posture completely change, as though the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders. Harry’s gaze had dropped to the floor for a moment, but shifted to meet her eyes, a fake smile appearing on his face. 
"Thank you. Have a good day." As polite as always, Harry left the kitchen and wandered through the house until he reached his father's office. He didn't go inside and instead stood at the doorway, his eyes focusing on the back of the picture frame that sat on his father's desk. Knowing that photo was of his mother, he couldn't bring himself to look at it, not today.
"I want a new life." He whispered, continuing to stare at the back of the photo.
                     "I want a new life and I want it with you." 


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