No Matter What // Harry Styles AU -- Dunkirk inspired

Chapter Thirty Two

"So.." I start, not really knowing what there is to say. "I-I..I like your truck." My statement comes out a little bit too much like a question, but at least its something.

"Thank you, miss."

"I used to drive one of these. It made work a lot of fun."

Robin glances over at me, eyebrow raised. "What kind of work were you in?" He seems confused by my statement, but there's still a lighthearted tone to his question.

"I used to run deliveries for my father's store. I also used to help out my brother deliver papers to different stations for the paper boys to pick up."

"You don't say," he almost chuckles. "Didn't mind the clutch? This one always gives me trouble."

"My father and brother did some work on it to fix that. They tried to explain it to me, but I was too busy speeding off," I laugh lightly. Robin lets a hearty chuckle, and I can feel my tense body finally easing into the seat.

"My wife's that way. Lead foot," he throws me a loving side-eye and I can't help but laugh, "but don't tell her I said that. She thinks I'm the bad driver."

"I think it's grand she drives. My mother's petrified."

"Not much scares my Anne," he smiles at me in the mirror. "She's my daredevil."

We hit a fairly large pothole, shaking the entire car. A muffled "Oi!" comes from the back and I burst out into giggles.

"Is he okay? I could find a way to make room," I offer, turning around to try and see if Harry is okay.

"I think it's probably for the best he gets some cool air," he turns and winks at me. I immediately turn forward, my mouth run dry from nerves.

"So.." his voice trails, "You were at that big party with Harry then? How'd you two make out?" My stomach lurches momentarily at his choice of words.

"Oh," I squeak. I take a moment to clear my throat and lower the register of my guilt ridden voice. "It was just dandy. Very nice affair, although I suppose I'm more of a quiet night kind of person."

"Your grandparents- they're friends of Mr. and Mrs. Williams?"

"Actually," I clear my throat again, trying to judge whether or not Harry would want me to say, "they, um, they are Mr. and Mrs. Williams."

Robin turns to look at me and I flash a nervous and guilt ridden smile at him. He nods with a polite smile, but from his furrowed brow I know he's got thoughts on this one. Before panic can fully set in, we hit another ditch in the road.

"You're doing that on purpose!" A muffled yell comes from the back. I catch a glimpse of mischief in Robin's eyes as he looks in the rearview mirror at Harry. Is he doing that on purpose?

"Um, are you sure he is really alright back there?" I squeak.

"Well if he doesn't make it, we'll have an extra bed for you tonight," he says dryly. A shocked laugh sputters out from my mouth, and I quickly cover it with my hands. He turns to face me, the corner of his mouth tugged into a small smile, and adds, "Not to worry, he won't suffer much longer. We're here."

I duck my head slightly so I can see through the window. As we pull up onto a long dirt drive, the headlights light up a quaint, white farmhouse. A simple two story home with a thick green ivy, it almost reminds me of home, but the stones lining a front garden are decidedly English. Thick smoke plumes from the chimney while a warm yellow light emanates from the downstairs windows making the house truly feel like a home. Something I can't always say about Gran and Grandfather's house.

We drive about halfway up the path when Robin puts the car in park. "I'm going to let you and Harry get out here. I've got some things to drop off in the barn and set up."

"Oh, sure," I smile. The truck wobbles and creaks slightly as Harry tries to jump out the back. I look down at my hands, not sure what to say to him, but desperately wanting to make good with Harry's dad.

"Mr-?" 

"No, no, Just Robin is fine."

"Robin," I ask quietly. He shifts in his seat, the old leather of the bench creaking ever so slightly. "I just wanted to say thank you ever so much for driving us and letting me visit your home at this hour. It's more than understandable if you'd prefer I go home." 

I stare wide-eyed and hopeful at the man who Harry cares so much about.

His features soften as he scrunches his nose, and I smile knowing I've seen that mannerism before.

"It's mighty fine to have you visit Ms. Chapman," he says earnestly. He ducks his head to check on Harry, who seems to have gotten his coat stuck on the side of the truck. We both laugh a little before he continues. "Don't tell him I told you," he lowers his voice, "but we've never had Harry bring a gal around. You'll have to forgive us if we're a bit funny old twits tonight."

My heart begins to beat in double-time. Harry is the definition of a catch. How I ended up being his first anything is both astounding and exhilarating.

"Mums the word you hear?" he tells me sternly. I nod fervently, still a nervous nelly, but smile when Robin breaks into a pleasant and kind laugh.

Just then I hear a loud shuffle as Harry breaks free from the truck. The door quickly rips open, and I burst out laughing as Harry stares breathlessly at me, wide eyed with the pinkest of cheeks.

"Good?" Harry asks nervously, still catching his breath.

"Wonderful," I reply, smiling up at him calmly as I hop out of the truck. "Thanks again," I wave back to Robin. He gives me a little wink as Harry reaches around shuts the door. The truck continues up the road towards a large barn, where I can already make out a few chickens roaming about aimlessly.

I twist around to watch Harry follow the truck up the path with his eyes. His angular cheek bones seems sharper under the moonlight and his flushed complexion, his eyes crinkled with the slightest of worry lines.

"You good, lad?" I laugh. He shakes out his body like an excited puppy, before looking down at me, eyebrows stitched together.

"Oh yea, I'm fine," he lies.

I raise an eyebrow at him. "You sure?"

"I'm just sorry for the surprise," he nervously chuckles. "He was good, yea?" 

His accent somehow seems thicker under his worried tone, and I can't help and stare at the wonderful way his deep pink lips curve as he smiles curiously at me. I have to mentally remind myself that I'm in front of his mother's home to quench the rising fire inside me.

"He's lovely, Harry. Not to worry," I tell him.

Harry lets out a heavy breath and his shoulder seem to drop half a foot. "Good," he smiles, his eyes alight with excitement. "Come on, I'll show you in."

With that Harry takes my hand and together we walk towards the house. My stomach is a tied up like a bouquet of butterflies, but with Harry by my side, I don't feel even half as nervous as I did throughout Gran's party.

We step up to the front of the house, shielded from the moonlight under the archway of the black wooden door. The murmur of music and laughter softly floats through the closed windows and heavy walls of the house, a warmhearted sound I haven't heard since leaving New York.

Harry reaches out and places his hand on the handle. He pauses for a moment, tilting his face back to mine, "Ready?"

"Ready," I smile back. He lets go of a nervous breath as he nods excitedly, like he's trying to convince himself more than he is me. I bite my lip staring up at him, and for a split second, I wonder what it would be like to walk into a house that both Harry and I shared. I toss my head quickly, though, shoving the weirdly intense thought from my mind, and push Harry gently forwards so we can get out of the cold and into the warmth of his home and heart.

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Author's Note:

Hello! Hope you're enjoying it so far :) Love to you all!