Accepted. [discontinued]

Chapter Four.

Harry Styles.

That was his full name.

I hadn't found his mesmerizing green eyes familiar for no reason. They were Anne's eyes. Absolutely identicle.

Harry was Anne's son.

Or we could go for the second definition.

Harry Styles.

Britain's current heart throb. One fifth of Britan's most popular boy band; One Direction. The band member known for his cheeky smile. His cocky yet heart warming attitude. Breathtaking features paired with a deep voice. The most dominating member of One Direction.

"Tell her to stop gawking at me!"

Harry's infuriated voice makes me look back down at my plate. My face heats up as the blood rushes to my cheeks. I hug my abdomen with my left arm and pick at my sandwich with my free hand. I push the sandwich around in my plate a few more times before taking a bite. Harry scoffs at my move.

"All right! All right! What's wrong?" Anne asks and my mind gets stashed with the images of Harry's manhood.

"Nothing, mum, just nothing," Harry huffs pushing his plate forward signaling he was done with lunch. "Just bloody normal to find a complete stranger in my house!"

"Honey, you didn't tell me you were coming."

"I'd wanted to surprise you but oh no! She ruins it by choking pancakes."

"Harry!" Anne warns then turns to me. "Were they that bad?"

"No!" I shake my head rapidly. "It was great."

"Then why did you throw up, love?"

The images of Harry's manhood flashes in my mind once more and I feel as if I will burst in the next second. My face heats up even more recalling the earlier events.

When I had not stopped vomiting, Harry had stopped asking me if I was OK. I obviously wasn't. By the time I sprawled on the floor, Anne had returned. She'd been horrified at my state and tutted about jetlags and bad cooking while helping me. I had showered while the mother and the son reunited and by the time I had trudged downstairs for a late lunch, Harry had developed a nasty temper towards me.

"Post-flight reactions." I lie and to my words, Harry gets up and literally storms off.

"Why is he so mad at you?" Anne asks.

"I don't know."

"You do but well, I'll let you both solve it by yourselves. Harry's apparently off the management's hook for the rest of the summer."

"Why didn't you tell me he was your son?"

"Can I be honest?" Anne grins mischievously. "I enjoyed your obliviousness. I'm not boasting but there isn't a teenage girl who doesn't know Harry."

"I apparently exist." I mutter and shove the rest of the sandwich in my mouth. Unlike other people who don't feel like eating after throwing up, I craved for food.

"It's refreshing, love." Anne chuckles and pats my head. "Your mum called while you were asleep."

"WHAT!?" My head snaps up.

"Don't worry, she'll call in a while." Anne stands up and pats my back. "I talked to your little sister."

"Zeke?"

"Yeah. She was very excited about my accent." Anne chuckles.

"Let me guess, most of your conversation consisted of her asking you to repeat yourself because she can't understand you?"