Only You {h.s}

Chapter Twenty Four

I sift through the heap of clothes scattered across my room. Why is it that whenever I actually need to look decent, I can't find anything to wear.

Harry's mum is coming over for dinner. I know I've met her countless times between when I was little and when Harry and I went to her diner recently, but I still feel incredibly nervous.

It seems like everything I own either makes me look too young or shows too much skin. She doesn't know we're dating, but I still want to look nice in front of my boyfriend's mother. I want to come across as old as I can and wearing knee socks doesn't exactly scream maturity.

I know that Louis and Harry are getting somewhat dressed up for this, so at least I have that to go on. I can't wait to see what Harry's wearing. I mean, he always looks amazing, but it's usually in black skinny jeans and button downs with obnoxious prints.

I decide on a long sleeved royal blue dress. It's very plain, but I like it. Unfortunately, it falls above mid thigh, but I can't help that. All my clothes do.

After curling my hair and putting on light makeup, I slip on the dress. I keep on the necklace with Harry's ring on it, which I know might not be the smartest idea, but I don't have the heart to take it off. I just hope the few other necklaces I have on as well will distract from it.

My nude heels click against the hardwood floor as I make my way downstairs. Both Louis and Harry are in the kitchen, only Louis is rushing around like a loon and Harry is leaning against the refrigerator with a glass of wine in his hand, watching him in amusement.

I stop breathing for a second at the sight of Harry. Black and white floral printed pants cover his long legs. A halfway buttoned black shirt is tucked into them. He runs his long fingers through his curls, humor in his eyes as he sees Louis all flustered and pissed off.

I walk in the kitchen and I can feel Harry's gaze burning into me.

"Louis, what are you doing?" I chuckle.

"Ow, fuck!" he exclaims. He rips his hand away the hot pan and points at Harry. "This asshole decided to hide the oven mitts and now dinner is burnt!"

I can literally see the veins popping out in Louis' forehead. I struggle to contain my laugher and I know Harry is too. I suppose the situation isn't very funny, but Louis' reaction is.

"Right, so how about you go relax," I chastise him, "And I'll cook some spaghetti instead."

Louis huffs and stomps upstairs. Harry and I look at each other and burst out laughing.

"He's such a baby," Harry grins, his nose scrunching up.

I shake my head, chuckling. I go into the pantry and pull out a box of noodles and start making the pasta. I'm standing at the oven, waiting for the water to boil when Harry comes up behind me and puts his hands on my hips.

"You look so beautiful," he rasps and trails his finger tips lightly up and down my thigh. "Such great legs."

I try to shove him away but he holds his place flush against my back.

"Louis is here," I remind him.

"That doesn't mean I can't tell my girlfriend how lovely she is," he presses a kiss to my neck.

I blush at his words but try to stand my ground.

"Actually, it kind of does." I pour the noodles into the boiling water with a trembling hand and start on the sauce.

"Why are you shaking?" Harry asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

"M' nervous," I mumble.

"Because of my mum?"