Weird World [H.S]

54.

"Would you quit it, you're making me want to fucking throw up all over the place!"

I whizzed out of the bathroom, before running back into my bedroom with yet another outfit on.

"What about this one?" I asked, as I stood in front of Phoebe wearing jeans, flats and a nice top that showed off my hips and well, everything else really.

"Isabelle." She sighed, her eyes rolling excessively at me; "I liked the other five million outfits you've tried on in the last half an hour."

"You're not helping me!" I whined, "Jesus, call yourself my best friend, you're fucking useless!"

"I'm helping all that I can." she managed to mumble back, her mouth full as she took another load of cheesy Doritos; "I fucking love these crisps."

"Eat anymore and you'll start looking like you've been bloody tangoed."

"Alright bitch-face, chill out."

"Phoebs, HELP ME."

"I am helping you, Jesus Christ!" she muttered, "Your aunt Isabelle is driving me fucking nuts today, yes she is." she spoke to her bump, even though there was no bump.

Yet.

"What's the big deal anyway? You're only meeting his parents and family, not the fucking Queen of England."

I stared at her, my head poking out around the doorframe as I wiggled out of these fucking jeans.

"In Harry's eyes, his mother is the Queen of England!"

"I personally don't know what you're stressing for," Phoebe retorted, "I mean, she already knows that you're sleeping with him, so what's the point in painting this fake picture?"

"NOT HELPING!" I yelled at her, "And besides, just because she knows... certain things... does not mean I can't make an effort."

"Doesn't it?"

"Phoebs, fuck off if you're just going to stress me out even further."

"Do you want to meet them?" she asked me suddenly, as I paused in the bathroom, only wearing my underwear and a vest top; "Isabelle?"

Walking into the bedroom, I avoided her gaze and sat beside her on the bed, not having a care in the world that I was half dressed, because this was us at the best of times.

We were comfortable and used to each other.

"I want too... I'm just nervous."

"Of course you are, you wouldn't be human if you wasn't nervous."

"But this is different." I sighed sadly, "You're right, they've already seen the article and I hate the fact that they will have made an assumption of me before even meeting me."

"Harry's mum seems nice though... you said that yourself, after you listened to their conversation like some sort of CIA agent." she muttered, "I still can't believe you did that mind."

"She does seem nice, but it's still daunting. Especially when I'm not like other girls." I said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Phoebe asked, releasing a little burp; "Christ, these Doritos are going through me."

"You're disgusting." I laughed, "Ooh my god, you stink! Get away from me!"

"This baby and these cravings are kicking my ass." she groaned, her hand covering her mouth, "Sorry."

"If you are sick on my bed, I will personally castrate your tits."

"Chill out, you loose cannon." she mumbled, before she shook her hand repeatedly; "Alright, I'm OK. What did you mean earlier? You're not like other girls?"