"The room you created me originally is fine." He replied. John crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. Well Fuck.

He didn't say another word as he stormed back to the room he had originally been given.

John laid back on the bed and stared up at the stone ceiling. Now he was really stuck here. Why hadn't he paid more attention during those Greek studies courses he took?

He didn't have much family. His mother passed and Harry... He shot up. Harry! Fuck. Was she? She was older so he wasn't certain if they shared the same paternal genetics.