Bound To Share [Harry Styles] [A.U.] (completed✔️)

129: The Dinner

DAN'S P.O.V.

Everything in this dinner is fazing me, from the European setup of tables down to the polished furnishings and skyline view. My head is spinning around from seeing so much extravagance for the first time and seeing Harry's father coming into view from the other door doesn't help either. If only, it's just making everything a lot worse. Harry eases me across the dining area, his hand never leaving mine as we approach the table. His dad is standing a few inches away from the table, staring with the same kind of apathy I keep seeing from him since I met him today and unfortunately from Harry, but just for a few minutes, when we were making our way to the elevator a while ago. His dad guides his mum to the other end of the table and pulls a chair for her which she takes and oddly stares back at me again immediately after. I don't know where I should sit so I let Harry decide for me. He's just about to pull the chair to his mother's left but his dad isn't having it.

"As our female guest of honor, I believe you should take this seat." His dad announces, pulling a chair to the right of the head of the table which technically means... to the right of Harry's father.

"There's really no need for that, Dad." Harry interjects which rather earns a cynical smile from his dad.

"Don't you see her as a lady of high importance?" But his dad clearly knows how to snap at his son.

I catch a glimpse of Harry gritting his teeth and appearing to be getting closer to snapping back angrily but thank God he decides against it.

"Fine, but you know that it's not what I meant." He says in a monotonous voice and walks me towards the chair. "Remember, the safe word is piano." He whispers.

"What?"

"If you feel uncomfortable, just say piano." He whispers quickly and pulls the chair for me. As soon as I take it, Harry goes to pulling the chair for her sister which is opposite to me before he comes back to taking the seat beside me.

"Must you retake your table etiquette classes, Harry?" Just as I was about to think the silence is taking over, Harry's father is back at it again.

"What?" Harry quickly asks.

"In a formal dinner, couples should be seated separately and the male guest of honor sits to the right of the hostess!"

Everyone in the table is shocked by the head of the family's outburst as every word has been spoken in a solid loud voice. If this is how their father treats them in a simple dinner, how much more in other more important things? I'm getting it now. I'm seeing a clearer picture of what Harry has been talking about all this time.

Gemma quietly pulls the chair beside her, staring at Harry, signaling it's what he should have taken instead.

"You're being too hard on our son, Des. He hasn't joined us for dinner in many years." Madam Anne finally says something, her voice the calm through the storm.

"Then the more reasonable that I should be hard on him. Living in the slums for years, your son has visibly forgotten his table manners."

The slums? His father is pertaining to Harry's condo as part of the slums. I'm completely stunned. I can't imagine how much worse his thoughts are of my own house and of me.

Madam Anne looks softly at Harry, who I haven't dared looked at since his father's outburst in fear of bursting into tears if I ever see Harry being ashamed of himself even for just one second. "Come now, son, take this seat so we can start our dinner."

Harry rises to his feet and scoots around the table towards the chair to his mother's right, leaving the seat beside me empty and meeting my gaze as he settles down and takes the seat. He doesn't appear particularly ashamed of what happened. Angry and suppressing himself, that's how his expression looks to me and I know it's just a matter of time before he explodes. I nod to him and try to smile comfortingly. He nods and simply holds my stare until the food is being served one by one. Now I'm even more scared to move. Not that I care, but I just don't have even the least idea about table etiquette! And sitting close to Harry's father makes it the more difficult to even use a fork! What should be used first? There are so many forks and knives in here. Gemma opposite to me faintly clears her throat, staring and raising her brows at me as she picks the outermost fork for the salad. I copy her and maybe that actually her goal was because she nods to me slightly before going back to her food. I wish more than ever that what Harry's mum had to say about how time flies so fast applies to us tonight. I can't handle this strict atmosphere, this controlled thick air anymore. It's sickening.