Clandestine {Harry Styles Fanfiction}

Part 5

Yayyyyyyyyy!

I'm soooooo sorry it took me so long to update! Ive been busy with school and finals and various other things. But here it isssss!!!

Madeline

“Okay, so which do you like better? The Jimmy Choos or the Christian Louboutins?” I looked up from my Tumblr dash to see an impatient Isabelle holding up two pairs of sky-high black pumps.

“They’re both cute,” I told her, my eyes returning to my Macbook. I had some serious Tumblr-ing to do and Isabelle was interrupting it.

“Yes, but which ones?!” Isabelle sounded exasperated.

I looked up again to study the shoes she was shoving in my face. To be honest, they looked exactly the same; objects of pain and torture. So I told her so.

“You’re clueless!” Isabelle screeched, “You have no fashion sense!” With that, she flounced out of the living room to her bedroom, blonde curls bouncing over her dressing robe.

“Ouch. I’m so hurt,” I mumbled sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

It was Saturday night and Isabelle was in a tizzy. Partly because she was awaiting a call from her manager about a modeling contract but mostly because tonight was she and Harry’s six-month anniversary and she wanted it to be “perf.”

Isabelle had spent the entire day out shopping with Ruby and Letitia. She had come home at about 3:00, laden with bags and insisted that Mina (the maid) run her a bubble bath and Carmen (the housekeeper) prepare her a seaweed facial. For the last two hours, Isabelle had run frantically around the flat, bossing the staff around and throwing a full temper tantrum when Mina accidentally ran over her toe with a vacuum cleaner.

I had spent the day on the phone with my mom. My parents were flying in two days before Christmas to visit me in London. We would be spending Christmas together, like a real family. Meanwhile, Isabelle was bringing Harry to her parent’s house in Devon for a week. Which meant an entire week without Isabelle bossing me around like a pet poodle. I couldn’t say I was disappointed. I loved Isabelle, but she could be a bit overbearing. It was good to have a break from her every once in a while.

I couldn’t wait for my parents to arrive. My dad was born in London, and he knew his way around the city, so maybe we could go sightseeing together. And my mom and I could have a mother-daughter day; go shopping and get our nails done.

I'd never been close to my Mother and Father.  They both  worked for the U.S. government, which meant they spent all their time in Washington D.C.  Actually, I was fairly certain my parents had never intended on having a kid. Their lives were completely devoted to their careers. My Grandparents had practically raised me. Even though my parents paid for my dance education, it was my Grandparents who came to every recital and competition and cheered me on.

But lately, my parents had been making more of an effort. My mom even called me every once and a while to see how I was doing. And now we were going to have a family Christmas, just the three of us, like it should’ve been when I was a child. The thought filled me up with holiday spirit.

I chatted with my mom for a couple of hours, probably racking up a thousand dollar international phone bill, before Isabelle ran into my room and asked, well more like demanded, that I come help her decide what to wear.

After hours of throwing clothes all over her room, Isabelle had decided on a stunning, floor-length, backless plum dress. Unfortunately, she still hadn’t made up her mind on shoes. I wouldn’t be able to decide either, if I had 700 pairs like she did.