Cannes | H.S

Legend

"I'm Jeffery, nice to meet you," he says, smelling of tequila and of course, all that New York City has to offer.

"Layla and likewise."

"No need for all the formalities now Azoff, loosen up," Harry jokes, pinching his arm as they share a small laugh. I know my actions are being quietly observed as I make eye contact with his mother and sister. But, before I have a moment to be nervous or truly process the situation beforehand, his mother embraces me warmly, pulling me in for a genuine hug. "Mum, come on now," Harry huffs from behind, flushing at such a sudden and surprising response. She smells like a hallmark card; sweet and memorable. She reminds me of happy holidays, chocolate, and warm apple pie all mixed together as she smiles at me as if we've been friends for many, many years.

Feeling steady eyes on her, she attempts to pull away, tracing the thrill upon my skin with her fingertips. "I'm so sorry, love. It's just, I'm such a huge fan of yours and..."

"Please, there's no need for apologies. It's a pleasure to meet you, truly. And you must be Gemma," I say, remembering her fun spirit from the many stories Harry told me in the past. She's a colorful spirit, but quite protective and wicked. Don't let her fool you, he said, remembering tales from his early childhood.

She nods quietly, accepting my hand before also pulling me in for an unexpected embrace. It's a hug you expect from a close friend that you've adored for a lifetime, not from a stranger. "Oh, for fuck's sake. Please, come on now," Harry groans, earning a scolding in the process.

"Language, Harry. Is that any way to speak in front of others? In front of ladies?" His mother asks, causing him to roll his eyes in a friendly manner, convincing her otherwise.

"I'm sorry Layla. Mum and I promised we wouldn't make a scene, but then we saw you and well, you know the rest," Gemma states, laughing bashfully, avoiding the daggers Harry attempts to throw throughout the evening.

"I really don't mind," I add.

"Don't say that love, they may try to dive in for another hug," Harry whispers into my ear, causing me to give him a glare, much to his amusement as he flashes me a wink.

"What was that H? Care to share with the group?" Gemma questions, ruffling a hand through his perfectly created curls. "How much product do you actually have in your hair? It's ridiculous."

"Will you cut it out Gems? You're embarrassing me, Christ," Harry replies, a sort of shyness rising to the plate as his eyes revert between me and his older sister.

"I'm sure you've embarrassed yourself quite the number of times with your silly jokes. I'm deeply sorry for whatever my little brother says to you. We've tried to tell him over the years that he's simply not funny, but he won't be convinced," she says, throwing me a quick wink as shades of red and peach appear upon Harry's face.

"Knock it off Gemma. This is his big night. Don't spoil it now," Anne states, attempting to resolve a potential conflict.

"Too late," Harry mumbles underneath his breath, giving her an irritated roll of his eyes. The hand that remains laced within my own grows tighter as I give it a small squeeze, silently informing him that he doesn't have to be concerned or bashful around me. I want him to feel comfortable, especially around his family. And I hope he knows that he can be comfortable with me too.

"Well, shall we go to our seats? It's almost showtime," Jeffery says excitedly with a clap of his hands.

"Now remember H, whatever you do tonight, don't fall," Gemma teases.

"Oh really, that helps Gemma. You should consider starting an advice column," Harry notes.

"Oh, shut it."