seven

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HANA

His voice stuns me for a second; the newfound information that this is Harry's mom, the woman who left abruptly when he was five with barely an explanation and hasn't even tried to contact since his seventeenth birthday, isn't processing in the slightest.

He stands to his feet quickly, defensively crossing his arms over his chest as he sends the woman a stormy glance and crosses to the other side of the room to retrieve one of his t-shirts, which he passes to me and gestures for me to put it on. I do quickly, feeling incredibly awkward that I'm topless the first time I've met his mother, but I suppose that isn't the worst thing about this situation.

"Harry, I—" she speaks tentatively, her voice is soft, her accent thicker than Harry, who seems to have adapted a strange mix between English and American, though it's definitely distinguishable from mine.

"What? Why the fuck are you here?" he snaps impatiently, cutting off her words.

"I can explain everything—"

"Explain why you left me with your piece of shit ex husband when I was fucking five! Explain why you fucked off to Italy and let me get punched every day! Explain why you haven't even tried to speak to me for three fucking years!" he shouts suddenly, reminding me just how scary he is when he's angry.

"Yes, I can, I'm sorry—" she takes a few steps forward, attempting to place a caring hand on his upper arm. He jerks away from her, however, an expression of hurt covering her beautiful features, and I can definitely see the relation between this woman and Harry.

"I think you should give him some time, we can talk later," I suggest firmly, seeing that Harry needs to calm down alone.

"Okay," she nods dejectedly and hesitates before leaving, though I can see her stood right outside the door, waiting patiently.

"What the fuck? Why the hell is she here? Who the fuck does she think she is disappearing without any warning and then deciding to show up out of nowhere?" he rambles angrily, a deep frown covering his pretty face and a crease set between his brows.

"Harry, you need to talk to her. She said she wants to explain, you have to give her a chance," I reply softly, holding the sides of his face stably and tugging him down to press a reassuring kiss to his lips. "I know it's hard, baby, I know she left you, just talk to her, and I'll be there for you the whole time, promise," I hook my little finger around his with a small smile, my thumb tracing his cheekbone before I kiss the tip of his nose lightly.

"I love you, Cherrybaby," he mumbles into my hair as he lifts me to my tiptoes with his suffocating embrace, although it feels so nice, so I don't voice my complaints.

"I love you, and it's really awkward that I just met your mom while I was basically naked," I whisper, smiling when he laughs warmly, the sound a wonderful one to hear so early in the morning, one I hadn't been hearing enough recently.

"It's not the worst way my mum has met someone I was with," he chuckles, making me raise an eyebrow in curiosity. "The last time she visited, she walked in on my sucking my kind-of-boyfriend's dick," he elaborates, a loud giggle escaping my lips before I shove my face against his shoulder to silence my laughs.

"Was it at least a good blowjob?" I tease, knowing how much he likes to brag about his skills.

"I gave it, what do you think? Of course it was good," he smirks arrogantly, my eyes rolling and my lips rolling together. "I bet I'm better at sucking dick than you," he claims, rifling through his drawer to find appropriate clothes for the both of us.

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