Unbreakable

When Harry woke up the next morning, he was alone in bed. He had literally slept – fully clothed and all – with Arabella in the same bed the night before, thus why he was expecting to have another body next to him. They had spent the night talking about everything; topics ranging from something stupid to talking about their deepest fears and basically contemplating the meaning of life. Then they fell asleep – with Harry's head by Arabella's feet and Arabella's head by Harry's feet, not even making a move to cuddle each other even though they both loved to cuddle something while they slept.

He made a small whining sound from the back of his throat as he sat up, running a hand through his unruly hair. He could hear voices in the kitchen, so he could only assume that Arabella was sat there with his mum, since his sister wasn't even in Holmes Chapel and his step father would be at work by now.

Harry made his way down to the kitchen, smiling sleepily in greeting at his mother as she grinned at him in greeting. "Morning, mum," he mumbled in his husky morning voice, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "Morning, dumbass," he kissed the top of Arabella's head, earning a "morning, dick," in response from the younger.

"Language," Anne reprimanded, narrowing her eyes at the two teenagers while they sent her sheepish looks in response. "So when are you heading back, love?"

Arabella shrugged, "Tonight, I reckon."

"You're driving through the night?" Anne asked with a raised eyebrow, a motherly look of concern on her pretty face.

"Probably, yeah. Mum wants to have a dinner with Dax and I before he has to go back to Manchester."

Harry snorted into the glass of water he was drinking, earning the curious looks from the two women he was sat with. Arabella raised a brow and Harry shook his head – silently assuring her that he wasn't making fun of her or anything of that sort. "The other day..." he started with a little grin. "– Uh, Grimmy was over at our flat and he saw this, um, photo – the one with you, me, Gem and Dax?" She nodded as he spoke, still looking confused. "Then I said that Dax was your brother and he didn't believe me because, and I quote: how the bloody hell is she a ginger and he – Asian?" Harry mocked in a falsetto before he snickered, making her and Anne chuckle along with him.

"Maybe we're from those families that adopt kid after kid after kid. How would anyone know?" Arabella grinned.

Harry shrugged, "Maybe from the fact that Grace is a ginger, too? And Charles clearly wasn't Asian?"

"Oh really?"

"Come on Ara. You're supposed to be the smart one," he teased and the girl in question rolled her eyes, poking her tongue out at him. Anne chuckled, walking out the kitchen to leave the two to talk over their breakfast of cereal. "So you're driving back tonight?"

"Yup," she nodded. "I'm dropping Dax off."

"Can I come with?"

Arabella raised an eyebrow. "You drove here, too."

"Well... Yeah... But – "

"I'll be fine, Haz," she laughed lightly.

"I was planning on going home, too!" He protested.

"Not today, though," she shot back with a raised eyebrow. "I'll be fine, Harry." Arabella repeated with a small smile. "Stay with your family a few more days. I'll see you back in London, whenever you're free."

"Fine," he sighed over dramatically. "One thing though?" She hummed in response, raising an eyebrow. "Can I drive your car?"

"Why?"

"You have a nice car!"

"You have two cars!"

"That doesn't change the fact that you've got a nice car."

Arabella scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Goodbye."

"Baby, please don't go," he sang the song, outstretching an arm as though to reach out to her, though he didn't even bother making a move to get up from his stool. "If I wake up tomorrow, would you still be here?" Harry continued on singing as she merely chuckled, moving towards the front door. Harry was still sat in the kitchen, watching her retreating figure, still singing with a grin on his face. "I don't know if you feel the way I do. If you leave I'm gon' – " the front door shut, Arabella walking out of his house and effectively leaving Harry pouting and mumbling to himself: "She actually left while I was trying to serenade her. Bloody git."

+

Arabella pushed open the door to her childhood home, calling out a greeting to whoever was home. She received hello's from a male and female voice, telling her that her mother and brother were both home, so she grinned, making a move to go straight to her room for a quick change of clothes, since she'd already showered while at Harry's/his mum's house.

She passed by the family photos that were in wooden frames, lined on the piece of wooden furniture below the telly along the way. Arabella felt her pink lips curl up into a smile at the photo she favoured most. It was of the four of them, on Daxton's – her brother's – fifteenth birthday, and he'd gotten offers from proper football coaches. He wasn't even finished with school but he was already being scouted for a professional football career.

Her father, with his light blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that Arabella had inherited, were twinkling as he grinned at the camera, an arm around either of his children. Her mother, ginger hair and milky brown eyes, was also smiling proudly, one arm around the waist of her youngest child. Arabella had an arm wrapped around her father's waist, and her other hand was in the air – in a fist pump of sorts. Daxton had fringe almost covering his eye, and his grin was massive – teeth lined with braces on full display – and his dark eyes twinkled.

That day was a good day, she decided.

"That was a good day," a male voice spoke, making her glance up to smile at her younger brother practically reading her thoughts.

"Yeah, it was," she mumbled in agreement, letting her eyes fall back to the photo in her hands. Arabella set the photo down, turning to look at her little brother, raising an eyebrow at him as she did so. He had his hair styled up, a fitting button-down just showing how toned his body was, and she could smell the cologne he'd put on from miles away, probably.

"You're looking handsome. Where are you off to?"

Daxton flushed slightly. "Just out with a few mates."

She frowned, "When'd you get your ears pierced?" She asked, blinking.

Daxton blinked right back at her, "Like... A few months ago? I had them pierced the last time I saw you, too."

"Did you really?"

"Yeah,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he laughed, shaking his head. "Are you still giving me a ride back tonight?"

Arabella nodded, reaching up to purposely ruffle his carefully styled hair. "Duh. I already said I would, didn't I?"

"Sod off," he whined in annoyance at her messing up his hair. She laughed and he sighed. "I'll be back in a couple hours." He spoke, pulling her into a one-armed hug and then quickly pecking her forehead before he left.

"Don't drink too much. It's barely even noon. Use protection – and a mask – if you're gonna shag someone," Arabella called out mockingly, causing him to flip her off while on the way out the door, simultaneously pulling on his coat.

Arabella laughed, watching as he shut the door behind him, then plopping herself down onto the sofa. One would assume that because Daxton was clearly adopted, they wouldn't get on well. Truth was, if anything – Daxton was her actual brother, and she wouldn't trade him for anything or anyone else. Arabella wasn't even supposed to be born, because of a condition that Grace had, causing her to potentially lose each baby she had. She'd suffered two miscarriages before Arabella, and when the girl was born – Grace and Charles were the happiest people on earth. Then they decided that they wanted another baby, but they didn't want to go through the pain of losing a third child, so they looked into adoption.

Daxton was an abandoned newborn – the child of a mother who couldn't afford to have a child, thus literally dropping him off at the doorstep of an orphanage. Barely three days later, Grace and Charles had come in and fallen in love with the little guy; hence bringing him into their family and naming him – since he didn't actually have a proper name.

Arabella and Daxton were exactly thirteen months apart, and they were the type of siblings who constantly fought as they were kids but as time wore on and they grew up, became two best mates, basically. Adopted or not, they knew that they would always be brother-and-sister, so they didn't really give a shit what anyone thought, especially when they got weird looks at them saying that they were siblings.

"Don't be thinking too hard," a female voice teased, making Arabella turn to face the beautiful woman with sharp features and laugh lines on her forehead. "You might tire your little brain."

"Cheers, mum," Arabella laughed, leaning her head back so that it rested along the back of the sofa.

"What are you thinking so hard about anyway?" She asked curiously, a smile spreading on her lips as she took a seat next to her daughter.

Arabella lolled her head to the side to smile at her. "Nothing in particular," she replied honestly with a small shrug.

"Well, okay," Grace shrugged as she got to her feet. "But now that you're home, take that bloody thing out of your lip."

"Mum."

"I'm serious. You rock the look, you still look gorgeous, but I hate it."

Arabella sighed amusedly, lifting her head and giving her mum a two-fingered salute. "Yes, ma'am. I'll take it out later."

"Now."

"Mum."