“Thank you, dear,” Anne smiles, which I return.

          I walk over to Harry and he picks up his own mug and I pick up mine, before setting the tray down on the coffee table. As I take a sip of it, Harry says, “How about we all go for dinner tonight?”

          Anne smiles, “Sounds lovely.”

*~*~*~*

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                Dressed in a green chiffon dress with a pleated V-neck, lace around the waist, and the back as well. Harry had told us that it was a fancy restaurant, so we were all dressed up. As I finished strapping on my heels, Gemma walked in the room. She had on a beautiful maroon knee length dress with black heels, her blonde hair in natural waves.

          “You look gorgeous,” she grins as she walks in, showing off her dimples.

          “Thank you,” I reply, standing up, “as do you.”

          “Are we ready to go, ladies?” Harry strolls into the room. He was dressed in black pants, boots, a light blue button down shirt that almost looked white, and a black blazer. Only he could make black work like that.

          “Yeah,” Gemma smiles.

          The three of us then go down the stairs where Anne is waiting for us in yet another beautiful dress. We then exited the house and got into Harry’s car, with Anne and Gemma sitting in the backseat. As Harry drove out of the driveway, Anne spoke up.

          “Where are we going?” she asks.

          “The Cut,” Harry replies, and something immediately clicks inside my brain.

          That was the same restaurant Harry had taken me when we were on our ‘getting to know each other’ stage; it was a great restaurant with delicious food. Harry glanced at me as he said the name of the restaurant, and I smiled, knowing he was thinking the same thing.

          We got to the restaurant in no time, but unfortunately, the front was swarming with about two dozen paparazzi with flashing cameras. “Shit,” Harry cursed, his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Someone must’ve leaked our reservations.”

          The anger seeped through his voice as Anne reached forward and touched his shoulder. “It’s alright, sweetie,” she assures him. “Nothing we’re not used to.”

          Harry sighs as he takes the keys out of the car and unbuckles his seat belt. We follow his lead and open up our doors, only to be thrown into the mix of the screaming crowd. Harry walked around the car and took my hand in his as Gemma and Anne followed behind us, keeping our heads down.

          The shouting and pushing grew louder and more violent, until the four of us were safely inside the restaurant. I glanced at Harry, who looked angry over the fact that there were so many people outside. Suddenly, a plump man walked over, and I realized he was the manager.

          “We’re so, so sorry, Mr. Styles,” he said. “We absolutely didn’t expect for those photographers to be here.” He looked very nervous, and I don’t blame him. Harry gets scary looking when he’s angry.

          “It’s alright,” Harry says, trying to keep his voice calm. “Can we get to our table?”

          “Yes, of course,” the man nodded vigorously, before leading us towards the back of the restaurant. We get to a round table, and I sit in between Harry and Gemma as the manager hands us our menus. “A waiter will be with you shortly,” he says, before trotting away.

          “I think you scared him, Haz,” Gemma chuckles as she opens her menu.

          Harry lets out a sigh, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry that had to happen,” he apologizes, and yet another memory flickers through my brain.

          It was almost exactly like the first time Harry and I had come here; the paparazzi had somehow found out we’d be here and they swarmed us, and Harry kept apologizing to me throughout the dinner. It brought a small smile to my lips, because Harry always seemed to apologize over things that he had no control over.

          He was unbelievably sweet.

          “It’s alright, love,” Anne smiles at him. “We understand.”

          Harry sighs as we open up our menus, looking over them. When a waiter came, Harry and I both ordered the steak, which he basically made me order so I could try it. As we all waited for our food, Anne launched into some baby Harry stories, much to his displeasure.

          “Mum, don’t,” Harry groaned, dropping his head.

          “Hush, dear,” Anne says to him, causing me to laugh, and then she turns to me. “There was this one time where I took Harry with me to a friend of mine’s baby shower, and the woman who was pregnant was talking to him. He saw that everyone kept rubbing the woman’s belly, and he asked her what was in there.”

          I listened on, amused, as Harry mumbled a, “Oh God.”

          “She told him that her baby was in there, just like Harry once was in my stomach,” Anne laughed. “Harry was absolutely horrified; he screamed at her saying that his mother would never eat him, and then came crying to me.”

          I couldn’t help but burst into laughter along with Gemma. I covered my mouth with my hand as my laughter dissolved into giggles, and I glanced at Harry, whose face was red with embarrassment. “I was six,” he says exasperatedly.

          I chuckle, shaking my head. “How adorable.”

          Harry sends me a sideways glance, a small smile on his face. As the four of us talk, I feel a hand lace with my right one, and I glance down to see Harry’s hand holding mine under the table. I couldn’t help but smile, loving the feeling of his skin against mine as the conversations casually carry on.

          As our food arrives, I feel Harry playing with my fingers, and I smile. With our food in front of us, we all start eating. “This is delicious,” Gemma says as she takes a sip of her wine.

          “Best food in London, I’d say,” Harry replies.

          As I took a bite of my steak, Anne spoke up. “So, Harry, Kelsey,” she says, “when do you think I can expect some grand babies?”

          Upon hearing those words, my fork falls from my hand on to my plate with a loud clatter, and Harry starts choking on the soda he was drinking. Gemma’s own eyes widen as I pat Harry’s back repeatedly as he coughs, covering his mouth.

          “W-What?” Harry exclaims, looking at his mother with his eyes widening in horror.

          Anne looks at Harry and I as if she said the most casual thing in the world. “Well, I’d expect some grand children in a couple of years,” she says naturally. “I’d love to be a grandmother.”

          I exchange a look with Harry, who looks just as mortified as I do. Looking back at Anne, I clear my throat as I sit up. “D-Don’t you think we’re a bit young to be parents?” I ask her, not helping but to stutter as I speak.

          Throughout this, Gemma covers her mouth with her napkin, trying to keep in the laughs that were threatening to spill out. This whole thing was both horrifying and embarrassing. Seriously? Getting pregnant at nineteen? That’s not the plan for me.

          Anne shrugs. “Not really,” she says. “I was pretty young when I had Gemma; as was your mother when she had you, Kelsey.”

          Harry scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly finding this whole topic uncomfortable. “Seriously, Mum,” he says, “this isn’t the time or place to have this conversation

          Anne rolls her eyes as she bites into her food. “Fine,” she says. “We’ll talk about this later.”

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