Show Me 2 - Remember Me (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter Thirty Nine - Breathe Me

Help, I have done it again.

I have been here many times before.

Hurt myself again today,

And the worst part is there's no one else to blame.

- "Breathe Me", Sia

....

We pulled up to Harry's mom's apartment, and Harry slipped out of the car. "Think I'm gonna have a cigarette before I go in."

I looked up at him, a small smile playing on my lips. "No one wants to smell cigarette smoke at the dinner table."

Harry was already opening his pack of Marlboros, retrieving his black lighter out of his pocket. "I thought you liked the smell," he said.

"I mean, I do, but I know for a fact your mom won't."

"My mom will get over it." He slipped the cigarette between his lips as he flicked the Zippo open, a small flame glowing in his hand. He turned those sleepy green eyes on me, lifting a brow. "You goin' in? It's freezing."

I shrugged, squeezing my jacket tighter around myself. "I'll stay beside you."

He grinned, draping an arm over my shoulders as he exhaled smoke into the frosty air.

"I feel weird about something," I admitted out loud, staring blankly into the sky.

"Meaning?"

"Like...something happened. It's just this nagging feeling." I looked over at Harry. "You know?"

"It's probably nothing, just post-concert depression." Harry snorted.

I snuggled into his side, smiling. "It was amazing. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, baby."

Suddenly, Anne's front door, two floors above us, swung open. Gemma walked out to the balcony, staring at us. "I thought I heard the car. What are you two doing?" she called, shivering.

"Smoking," Harry responded dryly.

"Get inside, dinner's just about ready!"

"I will as soon as I finish this."

"Now, Harry," snapped Gemma, and she turned and went right back inside.

"Who the fuck does she think she's talking to?" Harry muttered as he dropped his cigarette, stomping it out.

"Just drop it." I took his hand, walking with him up the cold steps to Anne's apartment door.

Once inside, my eyes immediately went to the dining table. A white tablecloth draped over it, complete with beautiful dishes and shiny silver utensils. Crystal glasses being filled with Coke were beside the plates, resting on lacy napkins. Gemma and Anne were arranging all of the food dishes perfectly on the table, so everything almost fit together like a puzzle.

"This is...impressive," I said weakly.

"This is my mom," Harry muttered.

"You two! Get dressed nice," Anne instructed. I just realized she was in a blue dress with a sweetheart neckline, a wide black belt across her waist, her dark hair piled on her head. Gemma looked stunning in a gauzy white gown, her curled hair swept over one bare shoulder. "Did you bring nice clothes?"

"I...I think I brought a dress," I stammered.

Harry rolled his eyes. "We honestly don't have to dress up this year..."