Peligro (A Harry Styles Fanfiction) INTENSE EDITING IN PROGRESS

Chapter 88

I awake to the smell of pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes.

Shit. Anne still hasn't forgotten my favorite food. The bitch is doing this on purpose, probably to butter me up and apologize. Well she isn't getting any fucking pardons from me. What she did to me is unforgivable. She doesn't deserve my forgiveness.

I force myself up and stretch.

As I walk the stairs, I glance at all the pictures on the wall. There are tons of pictures of me and my sister, Gemma.

Oh man. I hope she's ok. The only reason I came here was to make sure she wasn't dead. No matter how much I tell myself I hate her and don't care, she is my sister and I have to fucking care. There's no choice.

I walk into the kitchen and stop at the sight of some fatass sitting at the table. He has gray and black hair and wears a pair of ugly-ass glasses.

Jeez, my old man has really put on some pounds...

Anne notices me eying the man and stops cooking to turn around.

"Harry, this is my fiancé Robin. Robin, this is Harold. My son."

Oh right, Aurora had told me my bastard of a father divorced Anne and now she's remarrying.

The fatass stands up and walks over to me. He extends a hand and I remain motionless. No way in hell am I touching him.

He seems shocked by my actions and I smirk to myself as he turns around to sit again.

I take a seat across from him and grab a plate from the stake set in the middle of the table. I remember when my mum used to make my breakfast and she would set the plates in the middle for me and Gemma to grab ourselves to make it easier for herself. Something's never change I guess.

"So, Harry. How do you like America so far?" The man named Robin asks.

I don't say anything to him. I remain silent and he just blinks up at me.

"Do you not like it then?"

I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at the man, raising my eyebrows slightly as I try to intimidate him. He can fuck Anne, fuck her how many times as he wants, but if he thinks he can say one word to me- he's off his bloody rocker.

"Do you not like it here?"

Jeez you fat bastard, give up!

"Harry, he asked you a question." Anne says calmly.

So, she thinks she can get me to come back here for one bloody week and boom she's my mother again?

Ha. Nope.

I get up, slamming the chair into the table and walk out of the room. I don't have to deal with this.

I grab my jacket and boots from the cubby in the hallway and open the front door, not even bothering to close it.

I take a seat on the step in front of the house and slide on my boots and slide the jacket over my arms. It's a leather jacket. Back in Maine, this wouldn't have protected me for shit. But the weather is far warmer in Cheshire, so it's good enough.

I start walking down the streets of my old town. Nothing had changed over here either. My neighbors still have that annoying dog that that bite my arm in the fifth grade and left with me a scar. I put a tattoo over it so no one would see but if you look close enough, it's there.

I continue walking down the old streets. I am shocked that literally nothing has changed. And I mean nothing. I expected some sort of change, anything. Even Mr. Philips is still sitting on his chair on his porch, watching like he used to do when I was growing up.