Harry Styles One Shots

Genie In A Bottle

The entire situation is frankly amusing. While you sit across the table from your father, your mother argues beside you while Anne sat across from her. Harry sits to your right and his sister opposite him, and honestly the four of you are lost as to why the two matrons are arguing in the first place. Something to do with choosing words wisely, maybe...? Anyway, you've been staring at the table wide-eyed with your cheek in your palm since their little spat began, and the tension around the table is no less awkward.

Harry is poking your leg from beside you, and your dad is kicking your feet under the table. You're not sure if they're telling you to stop being so obviously uncomfortable or if they're trying to get you to leave for a while. Maybe it's neither, or maybe it's both.

"That's it, I'm going for a walk." Gemma huffs, standing from her seat and slinging her bag across her shoulder.

Suddenly, Anne and your mother stop their argument to watch after Gemma as she leaves the restaurant, and your left ear is grateful for a moment of peace.

"Now look what you've done," Anne pipes up again, "you've scared my child away."

Or not.

"I've scared your child away?" Your mother retorts loudly. "She's twenty-eight, for goodness sake. And you started it so don't put this one on me, Anne."

Your head smacks against the table with a groan as your parent and Harry's continue their pointless argument, and you swear you can feel Harry's muffled and shaking laughter. Because you've got your head against the table, you miss the nearly silent conversation between your dad and Harry, where your dad is urging Harry to go, and take you with him.

While Harry is resistant at first, he also doesn't see the appeal in sticking around, so he clears his throat and pulls at your arm. You look up to him dumbfounded, and he nods his head towards the door in a silent plea to leave.

You nod frantically and collect your bag from under the table, sending an apologetic glance to your dad who only sends a wink back, before sliding out of the booth after Harry.

"Where are you two going?!" Your mother stops her argument again, glaring at you with her burning eyes.

"They're escaping hell." Your dad interrupts, and suddenly both rowing women are turning their harsh gazes on him.

Harry snorts beside you with a look that's terrified on your father's behalf, and before things can get any worse, he's dragging you by the wrist and out of the restaurant. You both glance over your shoulder at the building as you hurry away, and you're both giggling stupidly because-

"What the fuck were them pair on today?"

Your head snaps up to look at Harry who appears exasperated, and he finally releases his grip on your wrist. "Took the words right out of my mouth. Honestly, I still couldn't tell you what they were actually arguing about."

"Me neither." Harry chuckles.

Silence falls between you as you idly wander towards the pier, and you're surprised that in the early afternoon the sun is actually making an appearance, even if only a weak attempt. The sea is far out but making its way in with the tide, leaving Weston sea front a muddy wasteland. At least the sun makes it look somewhat appealing.

To the right of the new pier in the far distance, the old pier is visible; a disheveled and decrepit remainder of what used to be. You know from experience that if you walk along far enough and up high enough, you can see the old lifeguard hut that remains burned and half standing on it. Out to sea just a way off to the south, Brean is visible, and you remember when you were younger that the party of family and friends you're with now used to walk along the downs to the fort at the end. You've also been told some disturbing stories about your parent's sexual antics up there in their spare time in recent years now that you're a fully fledged adult.