Serenity [h.s]

Thrill

Summer Lowal

I walk away from the guest - or so, special guest, - and greet Mark with a smile.

"I see you met the special guest?" He asks with a smirk.

I roll my eyes. "If being CEO is special, he can shove that speciality up his ass," Marks laugh was loud and I could feel Mr. Styles eyes burning into my skull.

I couldn care less.

I saw in the corner of my eye, familiar dark locks and my heart pounded.

I squealed and Mark laughed. "Hold on," I tell him and practically run towards my mom.

She sees me and grins, us both hugging tightly. I inhale her familiar scent and missed her terribly.

"Sono contento che hai fatto la mamma, volevo farvi vedere il pezzo ho lavorato per un po," I spoke lowly, pulling back. My mom was half Italian, and I picked up on the language. I told her, I'm glad you made it mom, I've wanted you to see the piece I've been working on for a while.

She smiled. "I'm glad I could come. How are you? Is everything going well so far," I nodded eagerly.

"Yes, thank you for asking. Everything's well, mom," She smiled gently towards me and wrapped her hand around my arm. I took that as a cue to show her my piece. To my shit of luck today, Mr.Styles was still observing the piece. I still couldn't stand his existence and my mother gasped.

"Is that Mr. Styles?" I turned to her, her eyes sparkling. Unfortunately, he turned around and his eyes met with mine, then to my mother's. He gave her a bright smile. His dimples appearing to me once again tonight. I rolled my eyes.

"Gloria, how are you?"

Wait the fuck up. They know each other? For the love of God.

She left my arm and spoke to him, both of them hugging and catching up to God knows what. I just stood there, dumbfounded as to how these two knew each other. My mother turned to me and smiled, her teeth showing.

"Summer, this is Harry Styles, CEO of Edward's-"

I cut her off. "I know mom, we've encountered tonight," she beamed and I internally screamed.

"That's great!" Mr. Styles smirked and I only shook my head.

"I'm not that fond of him," I muttered. My mother scowls me.

"Summer be nice, I knew Mr. Styles' father, we were very close," He keeps his eyes on mine and I hold back a snicker.

"Well, me and Mr. Styles won't have to be close. He's here for a showing, not to make friendship." My Italian mother frowned and apologized to the tall broad man in his suit. Her blue eyes found mine, and so did his emerald eyes. I couldn't keep both gazes so, I looked at my artwork and smiled softly to myself; proud of my work.

"Well, Mr. Styles, it was nice seeing you again, and do tell Anne I said hello,"

"Will do," They hugged, and as so, Mr. Styles eyes met mine, and I had to look away because he was getting under my skin. I just couldn't stand this man. Not one bit.

My mother pulled away and we both walked looking at other paintings of my own, as we did, she told me about how her and Mr. Styles' dad used to go to the same uni together. She frowned as she saw I wasn't interested. I sighed.

"Mother, I'm sorry. But his presence bothers me,"

"Why is that dear?" Her hand is still gently wrapped around my arm. We stop at a painting, the entire canvas black, and painted streaks of gray as a girl, her eyes hallow.