AFTER KNOWING THE precious knowledge behind the reason why Peter Pan is always flying -which is because he never lands, I've had it. Connor dropped me off thankfully with the promise of seeing him at work. We only hugged. And it was awkward, of course having Harry rub it in my face the next day. He'd stopped by because we couldn't hang out yesterday.

"Harry," I groaned, picking up my hair and putting it into a bun on top of my head. "I don't want to watch The Office right now, I need to finish this episode of Teen Wolf!"

Harry frowns and snatches the remote from my hand again, shaking his head as he stubbornly changes the channel back. I huff and glare at him when he snorts and throws a popcorn at me, stroking Midnight, my cat, on his lap.

"I really-" I don't have time before there's an electric buzz sound and a flash of colors from the running TV during .02 seconds then the world is dark. Somehow it felt wrong to breathe in the sudden surprise of it, but having been used to the electricity norms of this building, I'm laughing loudly and teasing Harry in triumphant glee.

Harry lets out a groan and I feel his silhouette turn to face me before his pale green eyes pierce the black room, making me smile in familiarity. "Why are you smiling like that? You don't get to watch that stupid werewolf shit either!" He argues, clearly ticked by it.

"I still feel like a winner," I shrug, giggling when Harry'd reached to poke me. Standing up, I walk over to the window across the other side of the room and open it wide, allowing the hot, light breeze and sunlight streak inside the small space, illuminating it.

The hustle and bustle of the New Yorkers rush into the flat and I groan loudly before I turn to a lazy Harry who had sprawled out and laid down on the sofa, taking it entirely with his feet dangling on the side. I chuckle as I watched Midnight jump off of him and strut away. Observing his relaxed state, I slowly creep up on him, nearing the side of his head, barely containing my giddiness.

But that was before the little plan backfired on me when in screen-like time-lapse motion, Harry had sprung his eyes back to life and shouted a long, rich, "Boo!" in my face that I tripped backwards and fell pathetically on my bum.

His wholehearted laughs weren't late to join in and fill my ears that were still whistling, as well as my ass stinging. "That was so damn funny, I feel guilty for not taping it!" Harry stands up and rounds the couch for my way, offering his hand to help me up to my feet.

"I feel guilty for befriending you," I huff and slap his outstretched hands before I get off the floor myself.

"You wound me, Flower," he chortled, winking at me as I take my seat back on the sofa before he follows me. "That would have hurt if I had intended on being more than a friend. Sick friend-zoning technique you have there."

"Well, ya'know," I shrugged, sarcastically. "I blow off relationship opportunities everyday I've become a proper expert in friend-zoning."

Harry stares at me. "You don't need a relationship, though."

I sigh. "There's a difference between needing and wanting. And right now? I feel like I might want to. I'm getting old, Harold!"

"Yeah, yeah. I can see the wrinkles already forming."

"Shut up, you wanker,"

We stay silent for a while, words unneeded. I've always explained to Harry that his friendship was enough for me because I've always felt like a boy generally needed to take a place in a girl's life. And Harry happened to be in the friends category, which is much less likely to be destroyed, and for that, I'm entirely and completely glad. He manages to pull the strings in so many things in my life that wouldn't be stable without him and we both thankfully get the whole friendship ordeal and have been honest about it before.

Any fallout of any kind is not predictable or expected, is what I believe in. Neither of us indulge in the other's love life -which is a dangerous territory, except to advise and such. But more than that, we're absolutely away from it as possible.

"No, I refuse to sit here all day and sulk with no electricity. No electricity leads to no technology to no WiFi to no internet to no phones to death," Harry frowns and flickers his eyes to the watch strapped to his wrist, nibbling on his bottom lip before he looks up at me, decided. "I'd come back from the dead to sue you if you don't get your ass up and get dressed right now."

"What? Where are we going?" I ask but I'm already off the couch from desperation to get out of here.

"No idea. What about the bowling center?" He suggests knowingly and my eyes light up. "You'd love that, won't you? It's close to three so maybe we grab a bite while we're at it. Plan?"

"Best plan you ever made," I laughed in excitement as I strolled into my bedroom. "I'm honestly surprised at your choice of bowling. Don't you hate it there?"

"I actually do," Harry calls from outside and his voice gets nearer when I'm getting out my pale blue ripped jeans that aren't so tight so they're comfortable enough, and some band t-shirt of The Rolling Stones that's a bit tattered but works.

"And?"

"And I like making my best friend happy," he scoffs, sounding a bit too mushy to sound sarcastic.

"Awh, Harreh," I slur and wink at him at the door frame of my room, giggling when he flipped me off. "I appreciate it and all, but I don't plan on giving you a free strip show while I'm changing."

He rolls his eyes at me but smirks. "Nothing I haven't seen before," he sing-songs. I grab the nearest towel and throw at his face before he has to get out and close the door behind him, laughing like a kid.

"And don't play with Teagan's room, Harry! I don't have to apologize every time for you," I call to him.

"It's not my fault she has funny thongs thrown around," he calls back and I stifle a laugh at his obnoxious ways.

Last time he was here, which is last week, he'd gotten out a set of her underwear and laid them out on the bed in a heart shape with his old Yankees cap in the middle. Teagan hates the Yankees.

But she likes Harry, I think. Maybe infatuated is a better word for it. She flushes every time he looks in her direction, but she knows her limits with him. She's taken, after all.

I'd slipped on my clothes quickly before I had a minor debate with myself whether or not to put makeup before I'd voted against it, having been feeling lazy today. So I discarded the makeup but put the tube of mascara in my bag, just in case, before I fitted my feet into a pair of white Nike sneakers.

And because it was my lazy day outfit, I had to complete the look with a ponytail tied high and wavering easily and swiftly when I'd moved outside to tell Harry I'm ready.

He gazed at my outfit and nodded, cocking his head towards the door. "Let's go. New shoes?"

I nodded and smiled appreciatively at him, patting Midnight. "You always notice small stuff like that," I point out, having him shoot me a cheeky grin, his dimples tickling my own smile into focus. "It's a nice trait."

"I'm a nice person." He says playfully.

I roll my eyes and wave him off with my hand. "You're fucking welcome,"

Harry laughed and shook hi head before he smiled genuinely at me and said, "Thank you, Flower."

I purse my lips. "You need to start working on calling me by my actual name, Harold."

"I'll start when you do, Fiona," He raises a teasing eyebrow at me. "Now, let's get going. I'm pretty much starving to death." I nod and follow him out.

Three hours later, I'm not too sure if Harry doesn't hate me.

"Give up, lovely!" I tease when I score another strike, the white pins collapsing onto each other and rolling off.

"Shut it." He mutters and stands up, me noticing he's already slipped out of his given bowling shoes and replaced them with his brown boots. "Change, we're leaving."

Harry is a competitive guy but bowling has never been one of the things he excelled at. I never like to walk too much into teasing him because only God knows how far he can take this.

So I roll my eyes and quietly change my shoes back, but I can't stop stifling my amused smile.

"Wipe that ludicrous smirk off your face. Fiorella, I swear," he gives me a warning look and I have to purse my lips and grab my purse quickly before I stand up next to him.

Since we've already paid, we walk out of the hall right away and Harry seems to breathe again. "I fucking hate bowling," he says.

"So it shows," A bubble of laughter escapes me and I sock him in the shoulder, making a tiny smile graze his pursed lips. "C'mon, we had fun!"

"You had fun." He grumpily states, shaking his head as we stop in front of his motorcycle. The conversation is closed when he strides the black-and-red midnight beauty of his. I wait for him to settle before I bring my leg to straddle the leathery fabric behind him.

I take a deep breath. "Can we not go back? I need to have a little air,"

Harry quickly snaps his head in my direction and green eyes watch me steadily, mouth wavering to form a sentence. I brush him off and shake my head a little.

"It's nothing," I quickly elaborate, "I'm just bored, it's still like six."

"You sure?"

I nod and pat his shoulder before I hug his back as he turns around and chortles.

"Fairy Land?"

"Definitely."