I've been mega stressed all morning.

Dad keeps trying to call me and I know it's about the £11,043 that's gone from my account in the past 6 months. Because I lied a few months ago and told him that half of it had gone on rent paid upfront, I'm having to work extra weekend shifts so that I can pay my actual rent without touching my savings.

He still wants to know where the other £5,000 has gone and I'm about a millimetre away from telling him that I've booked a round the world trip and faking photos to send him of the sights of the world. Surely it can't be that hard to recreate Machu Picchu in your living room?

The stress is seriously affecting me. I need to think of a plausible reason and I need to think fast. Part of me just wants to tell my dad that I'm an adult and he can't interfere... But I know he's just worried about me, he was always worried that I would waste the money. The inheritance that Aunt Elma left me was a life-changing amount, if used properly, and my dad would go crazy if he found out that I'd used it to buy myself a boyfriend.

I phoned Dr P's office to see if we could reduce the ridiculous outgoings a bit but his latest wife/secretary informed me that the insurance costs are incredibly high and I could always resolve the issue by taking Harry back and trialling one of the non-faulty 'products' for free.

She sounded so smug that I was about a second away from telling her that Dr P would be replacing her ass in about 5 minutes, but I restrained myself. The last thing I want is to annoy the Dream Factory.

Harry has spent the morning playing on the Xbox. He's connected with Zayn via the headset to play some boring looking army shooting game.

Zayn is getting incredibly pīssed with Harry as he refuses to shoot anyone, meaning that in the past hour they haven't managed to even get out of the building they start in and enter the game properly. I can hear Zayns shouts of anger down from where I'm stood.

"...JUST SHOOT! SHOOT!... FOR GODS SAKE HARRY-I SWEAR EVEN NIALL WAS BETTER THAN YOU AND HE KEPT PAUSING THE GAME TO SEND REIKI TO EVERY CHARACTER HE KILLED!"

"I just don't think it's very nice to just kill someone, Zayn." Harry holds his controller limply in his hands and winces as another blast from Zayn sounds in his ear.

"WELL WHY EVEN BOTHER PLAYING? WHY NOT GO AND DO SOME KNITTING OR READ SOME BLOODY POETRY WITH FARQUAAD?"

Harry's on screen character has taken to hiding in the same corner every time he comes back to life, meaning that there's now ten seconds between the screen loading and Harry getting shot.

"It's just not very nice... I mean, honestly, that man's probably very nice and you're just telling me to blow his head off... And really the graphics are-"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN NICE?? ITS A GAME!..."

I giggle at the pained look on Harry's face as Zayn continues to yell at him. I don't think I have to worry about Harry getting caught up in a violent gang. As Zayns character blows someone's head off, Harry looks a bit green.

I slip into the little hallway and dial Grace's number. Of all the other dream factory couples, only Grace and Liam know that Harry is supposedly 'defective' and that I'm actually paying to keep him rather than trialling him for free. I don't know who else I can talk to but I'm not exactly overrun with options. Grace answers almost immediately.

"Hey, how's everything going?"

"Oh, great!" I force a laugh, deciding not to launch of my problems on her straight away.

"Um hmmm. I'm not falling for it, you sound stressed. What's wrong?"

I was going to mention everything casually as part of the general conversation, but it's really playing on my mind and it's such a relief to unburden that before I can stop myself I've filled her in on the whole situation.

"Right..." She sighs when I've finished. "You do realise that if you lie to your dad now then that lie is just gonna grow and grow? Lies have a horrible way of unravelling themselves at the worst moments."

"I can't tell him." I say miserably. "He'll insist on frogmarching Harry back to the factory."

"But why was Harry defective? I've never understood that part..."

"Because while he was in the pod he chose me based on what he wanted from a partner, rather than what was 'best' for me. Apparently, I should have noticed that he didn't look the way I wanted him to immediately... Only I never chose how I wanted him to look, so it would never have occurred to me that anything was wrong. If Marcia hadn't took her H batch back to complain that it didn't look like the 'Juan' guy she wanted, they wouldn't have realised that there was anything wrong with H batch and I wouldn't be paying a fortune to keep Harry now." I say moodily, feeling a surge of resentment for Marcia and Juan.

"Well getting angry with those two weirdos isn't going to help you now, girly." She sighs and I can tell the next words are torn from her reluctantly.

"Listen, Hendrix. You're a friend and I do want to help you- This is against my better judgement- But Liam will cover for you if you need him too. His online business is doing very well and you could tell your Dad that you've invested £5000 in that." She cuts into my gasp of relief sternly. "Hendrix, I'm warning you girl, I think this is a very bad idea. We will lie to cover you, we will help because we're your friends, but please, think longterm. You're not going to get any money back from Liam's business and more money is going to keep disappearing from your account. You're going to have to tell the truth about Harry at some point."

She's right but all I can think is that I'm off the hook for a short while. Grace doesn't know what my Dad is like, he would insist that Dr P come and collect Harry, or he'd drag Harry out of the house and march him back there, not caring what happened to him.

I glance back through the door crack into the main room. Harry is now playing a very juvenile game that looks to be aimed at girls aged 3-6. He looks incredibly happy as he navigates his way around a shocking pink candy land collecting lollypops from fluffy bunnies. The headset he was using to talk to Zayn has been discarded.

I feel a deep ache in my chest as I watch him.

This is all going to crumble at my feet, I know I shouldn't lie, I should just come clean.

But I can't lose him. I just can't.

***

It's my turn to cook tea tonight. Unlike Harry's night where we sample everything from authentic Moroccan tagines to delicately flavoured thai curries that he's spent hours researching, my cooking nights tend to consist of unwrapping several pizzas and putting them in the oven. If I'm feeling like branching out, I do oven chips too. Once I even made a salad to go with it.

Tonight though, perhaps in the sheer relief of being able to phone Dad and tell him about my 'investment' and to shift my focus on the utter shame I felt when he told me he was proud of me for taking my finances seriously; I've decided to cook properly.

I've watched the 'Tasty' video 5 times. I've been chopping garlic to add to my mince for ages, like three entire heads seems a little excessive, but what do I know?

Harry meanwhile has been skyping Robert for the past hour. As I've been trying to get some coursework done, I've only heard snatches of the conversation, but it's seems that Robert wants some advice on planning a surprise for Susan, yet all of Harry's eager suggestions involving elaborate disney themed dates are met with morose unenthusiastic responses from Robert.

In fact, as Harry's excitement over his ideas builds, Robert seems to get more stubbornly bleak.

I'm just adding the last of the garlic when Harry appears behind me, shirtless and grinning playfully.
He's used two bits of paper to give himself giant vampire fangs, in what I can only assume is homage to Robert.

"I vant to sucka your vlood!" He says thickly, stretching his fingers towards me.

"Harry, I'm trying to cook!" I roll my eyes and bite back a smile as I turn away from him.

He follows me around the kitchen, dancing behind me as I chop the onions.

I can't help but giggle, especially when he stops the dancing and suddenly wraps his arms around me from behind. His crappy fangs crumple against my shoulder as he presses a soft kiss to my cheek.

He stays like that as I chop the vegetables, his cheek pressed to mine with his arms around my waist. As I reach up to grab the plates from the top shelf, he lifts his arm easily higher than mine and pulls them down, still keeping himself pressed against me entirely. I feel his cheek bunch into a smile against mine.

There is an incredibly strong smell of garlic emanating from the pan. Harry causally asks how much garlic I used and his eyes widen when I point to a few of the things of garlic.

"Are you sure it didn't mean three cloves?" He frowns.

"Yeah that's what it said... Aren't those cloves?"

"These are bulbs." He laughs, picking up the entire thing and holding it up. "The smaller parts are cloves!"

Harry makes a very brave attempt on my fancy recipe, but the garlic makes his eyes water and he coughs for so long that he can barely breathe. After watching him struggle over a single mouthful, I sigh and grab the takeaway menu. Harry keeps insisting that it's ok, and forces down several more mouthfuls, gagging as he does.

It's much later, once Harry has cleaned his teeth three times and we're eating pizza from the box, that I tell him that he doesn't have to do stuff like that to please me. It wouldn't upset me that he couldn't eat my inedible food.

"I don't mind, at least it keeps Robert away." He grins wryly.

"I think my cooking would keep anyone away, Harry."

"Not me." He grins ruefully and shuffles closer towards me on the sofa, wrapping his long arms around me. He pulls me towards him to that my legs are laid across his.

"Oh, do you have a fondness for shítty cooking?" I tease.

"No. I just love you, Hendrix." He says simply.

There's a pause and he grins cheekily. "Terrible cooking and all."

With that, he pulls me tighter towards him and kisses me gently. His soft lips graze mine. He catches my lower lip between his teeth and laughs lightly before releasing and moving his lips against mine. One hand spreads across my back, whilst the other pushes itself gently into my hair, holding me to him.

The soft warmth of his bare chest presses against me as I lean in and wrap my arms around his neck.

And, you know, despite the lingering overpowering garlic smell on his breath, there's nowhere on earth I would rather be.

***

AN- Dedicated to caramellostyles thanks so much for reading ❤️❤️