About the River and Cliché | Zarry

Chapter Five

The last time Harry stepped into his room was five years ago. There hadn't been many changes since he left for his new life in San Francisco. Gemma has been taking care of it during these years. The Packers poster on the wall is slightly fading. The little pot plan is still on the windowsill, even though Harry couldn't remember if it is the same one in his memory. He drops his bag onto the floor, throwing his body onto the mattress.

Harry opens his eyes again an hour later when Gemma knocks on the door. He rolls to the other side to ease the backache from fatigue, staring at the ceiling absently. Ten minutes later when Gemma comes to his door again, Harry finally forces himself up reluctantly.

"Ugh, look at your hair." Gemma frowns at his messy curls, "Spruce yourself up, sleeping beauty. Mom and the Malik's are back, you'd better go downstairs as soon as possible. Hopefully we can finish dinner on time."

"Have you considered," Harry yawns with sleepy eyes, "that maybe you can greet them in the living room, and I'll be in the kitchen-"

"No, Harry." Gemma cuts his words ruthlessly, "I don't care if I'm going to burn all the dishes. We both have things we aren't good at. Be a man and face it. Besides, meeting your mom isn't even a hard task."

Harry pouts as Gemma shuts the door. He inspects himself in front of the dressing mirror, brushing his hair with his fingers. His fringe refuses to collaborate and keeps falling down from his forehead. Harry exhales at his reflection, blinking quickly from tiredness.

"Objection, your honor." He murmurs.

The living room is already buzzing in joyful atmosphere before Harry enters. He steps back immediately as he feels anxiety climbing up his spine, but Lorie catches him before he can escape. Surprise and excitement expand across her face. "Oh my God, oh my God. Look who it is...oh my God."

Harry bends over for Lorie to throw her arms around his neck. The fragrance of her perfume is all over his nape when she releases him from the hug. That was unfamiliar- she has never worn any perfume before. Harry leaves a soft kiss on Lorie's forehead. She smells like jasmine.

"'s nice to see you being so lively, Mom."

"Oh, it's simply nice to see you, my dear." Lorie cups her hands around Harry's chin, gazing at her son with misty eyes, "I've been dreaming for this moment for so long... Everyone in the town is missing you, sweetheart. I have so many stories to tell, and I can't wait to hear some from you too! But before that, I should introduce you..."

Lorie extends her arm to the crew behind her. A tall man notices her sign, heading toward their direction. Harry nearly flinches as that man getting closer, not because of how scary the man looks, but because of the elegant attitude that is diffusing from him. This man reminds Harry of those clients coming to the office. They are all the same; gorgeous hair, expensive suits, crystal watches, shiny leathers shoes, and cunning eyes that wouldn't even lay on Harry as he brought the tea in.

"Good to meet you, Harry. My name is Khaleel Malik." The man reaches out one hand and grins at him. His voice sounds familiar.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Malik."

"I hope this won't be too abrupt," says Mr. Malik gently, "You must be really shocked at our engagement, I'm supposed to apologize for this. You don't need to hide your feelings if this makes you uneasy."

Harry is so speechless that he can only nod clumsily at Mr. Malik's mild voice. On the sofa there are three girls squeezed together, waving shyly as they notice Harry's sight. Before they make further introduction, the conversation is then interrupted by Gemma's scream from the kitchen.

"I can't believe she screwed it up again!" Lorie exhales in a huff, rushing to the kitchen while muttering at Harry. "She used to be good at cooking. Dunno what happened after you left, darling, you must have strong influence on her..."

"Girls, you should give a hand." Mr. Malik hastens his daughters, and then turns around at Harry again. "That was a pity. Perhaps you can talk to them later? Looks like our dinner will be postponed." He glimpses at Harry, "If you don't mind, would you like to show my son around? Zayn- he's in the garden. I don't allow him to smoke inside. He's probably a little bit bored now."

Even though Harry really wants to excuse himself, he soon realizes that there aren't too many choices for him. He goes back to his room to get his jacket, and then takes a quick peep behind his window. There is a guy in the garden, lowering his head with a cigarette between his fingers. Harry knits his brows when he notices that guy is leaning on Harry's car. Get away from my Ford Mustang Coupe.

He goes downstairs in a hurry, gasping in order to maintain his politeness. The guy doesn't notice Harry approaching to him, blowing out another puff leisurely. "Hey." Harry utters abruptly, unpleasant tone. The guy raises his head slowly.

Both of them freeze.