I tried pulling the creation off my wrist but he must of used some fast drying glue because it was already plastered on there. Hard as a rock, making me groan in frustration. How dumb could he be? If it were that easy to heal something fractured, possibly broken people wouldn't be spending money on real casts. There's a reason they do...because they work. I don't know if he knew this but in order for this to heal, his little contraption might actually want to work.
"Harry, get this thing off of me before I strangle you with it!" I spat in anger, as he walked back into the bathroom. He arched an eyebrow, looking at me as if what I said had been the funniest thing he'd ever heard. I glared at him, holding my wrist out expectantly. He sighed, tapping the thing a couple of times before looking closer at it.
"It'll heal it! It's just like a cast!" He muttered as my glare intensified.
"There's a reason people get real casts and don't just wrap toilet paper around their wrist and plaster it with glue!" I seethed, waving my wrist in the air with anger. I ignored the searing pain spreading from my wrist, up my arm/
"Because their dumb asses who want to spend as much money as possible?" He suggested with a smirk as I took a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut in frustration before slowly peeling them open. He definitely didn't like missing at a chance to give some sassy remark. I could learn from him if I didn't hate his guts.
"No, because they're smart asses who spend money in order for things to work.'' I spoke through gritted, teeth emphasizing the last word in signal of my anger. He shrugged my statement off like it was nothing, heading towards his bedroom. What was he getting now? A cherry to top it all off?
He came back in with an oversized t-shirt, setting it on the counter beside me. I looked down at it, before looking up at him with a quizzical expression.
"Are you trying to show me your clothing collection? If so, I'm not interested!" I asked, arching an eyebrow as he chuckled, rolling his eyes. He should really stop doing that. I keep on wishing his eyes will get stuck looking up and I happen to have very good luck. The idea of him looking so different causes a loud, abrupt laugh to escape my lips. I tried to stop it but following my outburst came a string of laughs, causing me to double over. I grasped the edge of the counter, stabling myself. Harry looked at me as if I grew two heads, tapping his foot, leaning against the wall as he waited for me to regain my posture.
I finally calmed myself down enough to talk, my cheeks red and tears trailing down my cheeks.
"So, do you just randomly burst out in laughter? I wouldn't recommend doing that at a funeral!" He smirked as I rolled my eyes, stopping myself immediately. For all I know, he could be wishing the same thing.
"Nevermind, whats the shirt for?" I asked, looking sideways.
"To wear to sleep?" He spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. My eyes widened as I shook my head.
"I am not sleeping in anything of yours!" I rejected.
"Okay, sleep naked! I won't mind." He grinned as I took another deep breath.
"No! I'm not sleeping here at all!" I shouted, my voice still quiet but with a firmness to it.
"You got off work at six, and we waited for that dumb ass doctor for over three hours! Its over ten at night, and I'm not taking you home!" He spoke as I scoffed in disgust. Trust me, I'd walk. Sadly, I learned my lesson walking home in the dark a while back when Jeremy got his ways.
"Fine..." I said angrily beneath my breath, pulling my clothes off without a care. Harry froze, his eyes scanning my body as he bit his lip. I pulled the shirt on, smirking as I saw the bulge in his pants.
"Goodnight bastard." I smiled, laying closest to the wall as I could.
"Night bitch." He replied, trying to stay as far as possible as he could.