just... so many at once.
Being the son of one of the richest men in New York (if not the world) definitely had its downfalls. If Norman Osborn wasn't making enemies one way he was making very dangerous enemies another. Harry had gone through more body guards than he cared to remember. Most had been sticklers for the rules which meant they were boring and that Harry had gotten pretty good at sneaking out of the top floor penthouse in order to run off to whatever party he'd heard about. He was used to being caught and dragged back home or narrowly pulled out of danger. He wasn't used to his bodyguard sticking around, killing said danger, and whisking him off to somewhere that definitely wasn't home.
He laughed as he fell back onto the old couch, close but not quite on top of the other, still giddy from the rush of adrenaline that came with almost dying. "Wow. Just wow." He said, turning to grin at the other. "You know, Mr. Wilson, you're a lot more fun than any of my previous bodyguards."