(DISCONTINUED)

○ 1.0 :: Dinner... (almost) ○

Dedicated to Ashley (@harddyhar_26) because she's really enjoying this story :).

[[I meant to give you a dedication like a million chapters ago, but I honestly just forgot to write it down. Sorry :( xx]]

*

I backed away from Harry like he was on fire, managing to tangle my legs with his and almost sending both of us crashing to the floor. Thankfully, Harry managed to free himself and keep us upright.

"So this is what you like to do in your spare time?" My mother chided. "Throw yourself at tattooed shirtless men?"

"I-It's n-not like th-that," I stuttered, trying to gather my thoughts. I could still smell Harry's scent in my nostrils and feel the warmth of his firm chest against my cheek, and it was making it impossible to concentrate.

Mother crossed her arms over her chest. She used to constantly complain about the size of it, always talking about getting implants like the other girls at the club. Personally, I thought she was fine the way she was, but the Country Club Cúnts had brainwashed her into thinking it was the right thing to do. She'd been trying to get me get implants, too, even though I had inherited the genes from Dad's side of the family that meant I my breasts were pretty decently sized. "Well?" Mother said sharply, making me realized I'd zoned out thinking about her boobs. "What is the meaning of this?"

Harry looked down at me, obviously expecting me to answer. "I- We-" I looked desperately up at him, but he was smirking down at something by my feet. Then he frowned slightly, but before I could begin to look down to see what he was looking at, he swooped down and tucked it into his pocket. "We-"

"Not that it's any of your business," Harry cut in smoothly, "but I spilt a drink down my front, and Pump- Katrina here, was kind enough to offer to wash my shirt for me." I cringed at the use of my full name, but my Mum would've freaked the fùck out if he'd called me Pumpkin, so I appreciated the smooth recovery.

"So she washed your shirt..." Mother mused aloud. Harry relaxed beside me but I held my breath, knowing by her tone that something more would be coming. "And then you decided it would be a good idea to behave like two dogs in heat?"

My heart stopped. Had she been watching us? Did she know? Could you tell when somebody had just had an orgasm? I mean, I felt different, but did I look it? I felt... happy, but my mother's ill-timed appearance had wiped the smile right off my face. I felt lighter on my feet, too. Did I look lighter on my feet? I glanced down to check I wasn't hovering or something.

"That," Harry, being the first to recover, argued, "was a hug. It's a show of affection - although," he paused, giving her a pointed look. "You're probably not familiar with those."

I choked on my breath at the way the subtle insult rolled off his tongue, watching the angry flush appear on Mother's face. "Stop that. You need not make excuses for the path my daughter has chosen," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. I let out a sigh of relief: she hadn't refuted the whole 'hug' argument, meaning that that really was all that she had seen. I cursed myself for not realizing earlier that if Mother had to have dinner at six on the dot, she would have to show up earlier than that.

"How dare you," Harry snarled lowly - dangerously low. "How dare you even suggest that your own daughter is some sort of- some sort of slut!" He roared.

Mother looked unphased - almost pleased with Harry's reaction. "You cannot ignore the facts." She shrugged in a 'what-can-you-do' sort of way. I accidentally let out a small whimper which pushed Harry to step slightly in front of me as if he could act as a human shield against the insults being thrown my way.