"Live in the moment, Hazza."

Those four words were something he'd been told for the entirety of his eighteen years on this earth, and they were nothing new to him. 

He shrugs, adjusting his camera strap around his neck and lowering his lens in defeat. 

"You're a horrible model."

Her eyebrows raise, and she drops the rose petals from her hands and onto the lifting carpet of the poorly constructed floor of her bedroom.

"I just wanted a good Instagram picture, Harry, you absolute tit," she rolls her eyes, and he shrugs once more.

"I've taken the last four, and you liked them," he points out, "you just look especially bad today and I'm not sure even my camera can save it."

"You're right - the first part, I mean," his sister clarifies, sitting down on the edge of her mattress with a sad smile, "I'm gonna miss you, H."

"Is that.." he tilts his head, lips twisting into a mocking smile, "decency?"

"You know what? Fuck you!" she exclaims, as he breaks out into laughter, catching the stalk of the rose he'd broken in attempts to get a good picture out of the remains of it as she throws it. "I only loved you for your bright ideas when it came to photography anyway."

"Alright, Gem," he shoots a grin in the direction of his younger sister, "I'll miss you too."

Harry had always wanted a brother, to be quite frank. He had always liked the idea of having someone to mess around with, to laugh with after a scolding from Mum, and to kick a football about with in the garden. But instead, when he was two (and a half, as he likes to make clear), he was welcomed home from nursery with a beautiful baby sister, who he couldn't stand. In fact, he'd bickered with her from the moment she could talk, and had often falsely accused her of the worst things he could think of, often concluding in responses from his mum such as, 'No, Haz, Gemma isn't a drug dealer.. she's four.'

Tragedy had brought them closer - after the sudden passing of their father when Harry was twelve and Gemma was ten. It had been so sudden - he was diagnosed with lung cancer in June and they said their goodbyes in August, and since then, Harry had felt the constant need to protect his little sister. He was there whenever she needed, and would never, ever leave her to fend for herself. Along with his mum, she was the most important person to him. 

"I can't believe you're leaving tomorrow," she sighs, picking irritation over upset and shooting him a look.

"It's not that far, Gem," Harry says hesitantly, knowing for a fact that wasn't the case.

"S'New York, Harry," she states, raising an eyebrow, "s'very, very far away."

He shrugs, pushing his thickly-rimmed glasses further up his nose, as if to brush it off. But he was aware - aware of the 3,334 miles between them after he stepped off the plane.

"It's NYU," he tells her, though she already knows. 

"I know, Mum hasn't shut up about it since you got in," she laughs, as he shrugs off his camera strap from his neck and places his camera onto the table beside Gemma's bed. "What?" she presses, noting his reaction as one of little enthusiasm, "don't pretend this hasn't been your dream since you started taking pictures on Dad's old camera when we were little."

"You're still little," Harry points out with a teasing grin, "fifteen."

"Sixteen next week, and you're missing it," she huffs, but she doesn't mind too much. She'd much rather her brother was out living his dreams. 

"I start school on Monday," he returns, "need a head-start."

"I know, but," she pauses to let out a huff, "who will take my Instagram pictures now?"

"Shut up, Gem," he chuckles, "m'starting to think you only like having me as a brother for my photos."

"Wait.." she trails off in a joking manner, "you didn't know?

He laughs, picking up a scattered rose petal and rubbing it gently between his finger and thumb in thought, his laughter fading but the smile remaining on his face. 

"Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone, Gem," he warns her, "and don't give Mum a hard time."

"I won't," she promises, "and when your work goes worldwide and you're a millionaire, don't forget Mum and I, yeah?"

A breathy chuckle leaves his lips, as he nods slowly, his grin wide as ever, "I won't," he promises in return.