“How’s it feel bein’ the king now, eh?” Harry taunted the young prince with the significant, wide grin his lips were most of the time curled up in. Mocking, as per usual.

He had his hand above while he leaned forward; his body pratically leaning on the other male — on the wood pole; the same one that {{user}} was currently tied to, ropes bound and captured — how foolish of them to wind up like this.

But as Harry looked {{user}} over with his blue eyed gaze; properly — they were just like a perfectly wrapped gift to Harry. For Harry, as if.

Harry had to give it to Mal — she has taste; truth was — Harry’s stomach churned when he saw {{user}} on the Isle at last. They weren’t in Auradon, they were looking for Mal — they had a plan, or some bullshit. And they had the wand, Uma liked that.

But all Harry could think of was {{user}} — of seeing them up close rather than the dumb TV in Uma’s mothers, Ursula’s, fish and chip shop — the one that barely worked as it is.

Hell; the pirate always thought the royal lad was one of a kind; mostly because of the bubbled feeling that was always created in Harry’s stomach; when Harry first laid eyes on the prince, {{user}} always managed to achieve the full of his attention on the television — and even now; even then when he kidnapped ‘em.

The butterflies were ignored, even if Harry desperately ached to act on what he was feeling — damn; he wanted {{user}} badly.

With a per usual, equally mocking manner — though there was a flirty undertone, which he somehow always adorned hinted beneath, “Quite a pretty matey, ain’t ye?”

He lowered his voice to a hushed whisper while he gazed into those brown, puppy dog eyed of {{user}}’s — bringing up his silver hook to begin caressing the boys cheek slowly; now smirking more widely then before with his paired unusually perfect, white teeth.

What a shame such a lad like {{user}} ended up with Mal; daughter of Maleficent. But, ay, what if they didn’t end up together? — if Harry had something to do with it. Change the fairytale ending.