Silk || hs

One Dimension

We walk into Harry's parents' house through the garage, and if it weren't for Harry's constant hold on my hand, I probably would have turned around and ran away about seven times. The walk through the house really is long enough for me to contemplate running that many times, so just think about the mere scale of this place. Not to sound ridiculous, but this place is ginormous and I feel like everything in it is too nice for me to even look at. Literally, I'm afraid that if I look at the pictures too long, the glass will break because my poorness is somehow getting on them through the expensive air.

Who the hell actually lives in a house like this?

When we reach what I assume is the living room, we finally encounter a person, and suddenly, I get it. This is the type of person who would live in a house like this. The man standing in the corner of the room is tall and has rather intimidating look about him. His suit is tailored to perfection and his dark beard seems to be oddly symmetrical. This must be Harry's stepfather.

"Ah, Harry!" the man exclaims, seeing Harry and I standing in the doorway. His deep, Southern accent fills the air between us, "It's good to see you, son."

Harry's grip on me tightens momentarily at the man's words, but he continues to lead me forward regardless of whatever emotions he might be feeling. I know Harry doesn't have a great relationship with this man, but I just hope they are both able to be civil towards each other. I wouldn't know what to do if they started fighting.

To my surprise, Harry releases his hold on me and takes the final stride to shake his father's hand. Okay, this is good.

"Happy Birthday," Harry says quietly, forcing a smile onto that pretty mouth of his. I smile at the obvious effort Harry is making to ensure a peaceful evening and step forward just a tad when the man notices me.

"Thank you," Harry's stepfather grins, turning his attention to me. "And this must be..."

"Camryn," Harry interjects. "This is Camryn."

I put on a smile and shake the man's hand, "It's so nice to meet you, Mr.–"

"Preston," he interrupts, smiling pleasantly at me. "Please, call me Preston."

Ha, he even has a rich person name.

I catch Harry rolling his eyes in the corner of my eye, but I am distracted from the rude gesture when a very cheerful British accent comes echoing from behind me. Harry's mother comes nearly sprinting into the room, her high heels clicking against the wood floors rather aggressively. Harry smiles widely when he sees her and moves to embrace her. She wraps her arms tightly around her son, shutting her eyes with a broad smile.

It warms my heart to see Harry like this, so at ease and so desirous to show his mother that he really loves her. It's a beautiful thing, really. I suddenly become aware of the fact that I am staring at their rather intimate moment, so I look away hurriedly and fix my eyes on nothing in particular.

Harry's mom releases him and she whispers something in his ear before turning to me with that wonderfully bright smile of hers. I expect her to shake my hand like her husband did before, but I am surprised to be pulled into a tight hug for which I was not ready. I make eye contact with Harry over his mother's shoulder and he simply pushes his hands into his pockets and laughs at my probably stupid expression.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you," she exclaims, pulling away from me, but keeping her hands on my shoulders. "Harry never brings his girlfriends around here."

Girlfriends? Part of me want to address the plurality of the term while the other part wants to address the fact that she called me his girlfriend. Does that mean he called me that to his mom? Or is she just making a typical mom assumption? Ugh, I am confusion.