And Then There Was You [h.s]

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Part One

 Harry's momentary distress faded into vivacity as he pulled his mother in for a long, well overdue hug. I stood awkwardly, unsure of what the fuck to do. Harry never told me his mom was picking us up from the airport. Had I known, I would be slightly more prepared for, well... whatever the hell was happening.

I'd never been too good at the whole "meet the parents" ordeal. Matt's parents once came down for Thanksgiving and took the both of us out to dinner. Between me, my hideous green jacket, my slutty dress, and my tendency to repeatedly call Matt's dad out on being a drunk, it was safe to conclude that the night did not turn out well. I mean seriously, who the fuck orders two more bottles of wine because they've finished the first one themselves? Hey, maybe if I called my own father out the way I did Matt's, he would still be here.

"Mum, this is Logan," Harry introduced, shooting a look that pled for me to play nice. "Logan!" the aged brunette smiled, her arms coaxing me in for a hug. I tensed but obliged, wrapping my arms slowly around his mother. When released, she still held the same smile, reminding me so much of her son that I liked/hated so much. "Harry talks of you often. That is, when he bothers to call me," she glared at him dramatically, just before letting her grin return. He told her about me? Harry blushed under my gaze, confirming my subconscious question. "Oh," was all my tightened throat allowed me to reply. Really, Logan? 'Oh'?

"I didn't know you'd be picking us up. I was just going to-"

"What, call a taxi and pretend as if you don't have a mother who's more than willing to pick you up?" the aged brunette grimaced, hand on hip. What a bitch. I liked her already.

Harry quickly rolled his eyes, jaw locking as he made his way to the carousel to collect our bags. I stood awkwardly with the aged brunette, unsure of what to say. I bit the inside of my cheek, warding off words, or rather questions, that threatened to come. "You don't have to be so quiet, dear," she grinned, continuing, "I don't bite."

She didn't, but I did. 

"What did Harry say about me?" I asked, my tone more venomous than I intended. Right now probably would've been a good time for me to introduce myself fully, maybe throw in some social niceties, but instead I let my suspicions get the better of me. As per fucking usual, right?

She didn't appear stunned; instead she straightened her posture and adjusted the hem of her seemingly expensive sweater. "Jumping right into it, are we?" her melodious accent flooded my ears as she laughed, "All good things, dear. All good things,"

"I wanted specifics," I muttered, too loud for her to discard.

"Loose lips sink ships," she teased. "He thinks very highly of you, but that's all I'll disclose. If I say more he'll kill me," she giggled, her laugh infectious.

"I'm new to this," I purse my lips.

"To what, England? Or meeting your boyfriend's mum for the first time,"

"Both,"

"Well, don't be nervous, dear. You'll love England, and you've already won me over," she paused for a moment, looking me up and down before adding, "You remind me much of Harry when he was younger. He was very... harsh, back then,"

"Harsh?" I asked, my teeth gritted. She was implying that I was harsh? She'd only had a conversation with me for about thirty seconds before already slapping a label on my fucking forehead. "He was very pensive and guarded, not one to be messed with," her smile never faltered. "It's a compliment, dear. Nobody daring to mess with you is a good thing in some ways," as Harry began to return with our bags, his mother's eyes washed over with a certain darkness I couldn't assess at the time. Even her ever-present smile fell eagerly to the floor as she said, "It definitely wasn't a good thing for him, though."