Your younger brother was a tool. You'd have been surprised if it hadn't been for your father, the ultimate tool. You'd both been brought up in a toxic household to say the least. The moment you got accepted into college, you packed as much as you could, moved out and never looked back.
Your brother was 7 years younger, and it had been a difficult decision leaving him behind. But he was never on the receiving end of your father's wrath, no, that was reserved for your mother and yourself.
It didn't surprise you when, going home for Christmas or Thanksgiving (for your mother), you could see your brother turning into your father more and more each year.
You were disappointed in him. He'd seen your mother suffer, seen the abuse, hell, seen how your father treated you as well; did none of that... disturb him? All the beatings, the yelling, the screaming, the way your father would get drunk and just unleash all his pent up frustrations on the two of you. He'd seen all your bruises, as well as your mom's, he'd seen how you two got them first hand. But your father had been raising a man to carry on his legacy, he taught him how to treat a woman, how to "put her in her place". He'd ingrained in his mind that women were weak and a nuisance and disposable and that when it came to women, anything went.
As for your mother, she was a lost cause. Growing up, you'd tried talking her into leaving your father countless times. She had what was clinically called "Stockholm Syndrome". She was so used to the abuse that she was convinced that each time it happened, no doubt she'd done something to have earned it. She blamed herself for not being good enough, not having done her wifely duties well enough etc.
But what you could not understand for the life of you was why she had allowed him to touch his own daughter. No, nothing inappropriate ever happened, it wasn't that kind of abuse, it mainly consisted of him beating you and degrading you verbally. Ok, she was willing to put up with it herself, but how could she let it go on for as long as it did when it came to her own daughter? What excuse did she find for that? She never gave you an explanation. She always shrugged it off as "all kids need to be disciplined". What about your brother then? He'd never been manhandled, never even been shoved aside. If anything, your father always encouraged his mean streak. So when he'd pull your hair, play crude pranks on you, your father just laughed right along with him. You could even see your mother smirk proudly sometimes.
Needless to say, your family was fucked.
So when your brother brought Emily, his girlfriend, over for Thanksgiving one year, you felt the urge to pull her into the bathroom and give her the rundown before it was too late. What a sweet thing she was, too. How did she ever get involved with your tool of a brother?
Emily was 18, your brother's age. She looked angelic, her soft curls framing her face, her bright green eyes were doe-like and her cheeks were rosy and not from using any makeup. She was the perfect victim. You could tell she was unsuspecting of your brother's true colors, they were still early days, having met in college just weeks ago and a small part of you couldn't help but wish that she could somehow turn him around. Maybe, maybe, being away from home was going to do your brother a whole world of good. Maybe he'd open his eyes finally, fall in love and treat his partner with the utmost kindness and respect.
You silently observed them from across the dining table, and realized that was not going to happen. Emily, of course, was oblivious. She looked so innocent. She hadn't caught on to any of your father's crude remarks, or the way your brother was smirking at them, sure they were keeping it civil but this was probably because they didn't want to spook her. She wasn't family, after all, she could just up and walk away, unlike yourself. She didn't have to take it. They were probably going to ease her into it, have it not be a shock. Your father was right to assume that your brother really liked her, and was probably trying not to blow his chances with her for him. But that would only last for so long.
When they kept on drinking, though, the conversation grew less and less civil. You could see her start to be uncomfortable. So you made a spur of the moment decision "Hey, it's getting late. I've not had anything to drink, Emily, would you like me to drive you back home?"
"Hey!" your brother snapped "Nobody asked you to. Maybe she wants to spend the night. Mind your own business!" his voice was already slurring and you tried your level best not to grimace.
"Actually" Emily placed a hand gently over your brother's "My dad is expecting me back. We're not home for long and I promised him I'd spend at least part of my holiday weekend with him"
Emily politely said her goodbyes while you waited in the driveway. You threw your cigarette away when she came out of the house and gave her a small smile, gesturing for her to get in your car.
"Thanks so much for offering to drive me, Y/N! My dad would have driven here himself to get me otherwise, he doesn't feel comfortable with me taking cabs or even ubering this late at night"
"Your dad sounds nice" you couldn't help but point out. You'd have given anything to have that kind of father. Yours would have pimped you out had money ever been an issue, you reckon.
"Oh, he's the best. I love him so much. I wanted to leave earlier, but was worried your family would consider it rude of me. It's just... he's lonely, and it's Thanksgiving. I hate to know he's spending it all by himself"
"Oh?" you just realized, she had alluded to her having promised him to spend at least part of her holiday weekend with him. So her folks were divorced, then. You stole a glance at her. She definitely seems like the kind to have daddy issues. But maybe not the kind you had. Hers were probably just a result of her parents separating. She probably hadn't been able to spend quite as much time with her father as she'd wanted to, growing up. "Did your folks split up recently?". You didn't know what prompted you to be so nosey, you just wanted to see if you'd been right about it.
"No, actually" she sighed "They got divorced when I was 6. Mom got custody, even though she was the one to cheat. My stepdad made sure my dad got very little time with me. I'll never forgive him for it. I wish I could've stayed with dad. But now that I'm legal I can spend all the time I want with him" she cheered up "Mom isn't too happy about it, but I don't care. They've kept me away from him for far too long."
You blew out a breath "Woah. That's... too bad, Emily. Truly. I mean, I'd have given anything for my parents to get a divorce, but I realize that kids generally really suffer as a result. The way they kept you too apart was a really shit thing to do"
Emily furrowed her brows slightly "Yeah? Do your parents not get along?"
Sigh. She was so innocent. To you, it was all painfully obvious, all the digs your father took at your mom's expense during dinner, he did try to make it subtle, which was, again, only for your brother's sake, but still. "Yeah, uhm. They're really... not very compatible. How about you and my brother, huh? Is Derek treating you right? Lemme know so I can bust his balls, if not" you tried lightening the atmosphere a bit
She giggled "Oh, we get on really well! But don't worry, I'm sure my dad would beat you to it. He's extremely protective of me".
You sighed again. Just as you'd suspected, she hadn't seen your brother's true colors. You didn't wanna have to give her that older sis girl talk. But even at 25, you were mature well beyond your age, because, well... life had forced you to grow up way too soon. You desperately wanted to tell her, to warn her. She seemed like such a nice girl. But, at the end of the day, you prayed that her father was in fact all that she was painting him to be, and that he would punch your brother's teeth in if he tried something someday. And something told you, it was just a matter of time.
"Take the left here, the third house on the left".
You hummed "Nice place."
Just as you were pulling into the driveway the front door opened and your mind raced, you really didn't wanna have to stay for small talk with her dad, nice fellow as he may be, you were exhausted. You'd been home for little over a day but already you felt yourself drained, you needed to go lock yourself up in your old room and decompress. That is, if things back home hadn't escalated in the meanwhile (as in, if your father and brother hadn't both gotten piss drunk and on your case the moment you walked into the door).
"I was just about to call" you heard a soft voice approach you as Emily let the passenger window down and you killed the engine. You eventually glanced to where you'd seen in your peripheral vision her father lean over the window to greet you.
"Dad, this is Y/N. She's Derek's sister. Was kind enough to offer to drive me home."
At least that's what you thought she said. You were hearing it all muffled, the sound drowned by the noise of blood rushing into your cheeks right near your ears, that must've been the anatomical explanation for what was happening. This.... This was Emily's father? Holy smokes.
"I appreciate that, Y/N. I'm Harry" he raised his palm in a sort of a wave, even though he didn't move it. "Care to step inside for a moment?"
You were transfixed. Maybe it was because of the multiple rings on his fingers. But you needed to process this. There was no way you were getting inside this man's house on shaky legs. "Oh, uhm. I wouldn't want to impose... Emily was just telling me about how she was looking forward to spending quality time with you"
"Did she, now?" you watched Harry look lovingly over to his daughter who shrugged cutely and he even leaned in to give her cheek a short peck. Then he opened the passenger door for her but spoke directly to you "We've got plenty one on one time these days, and it's Thanksgiving, the more the merrier. Plus I don't think we can tackle that turkey just the two of us".
You had just eaten and had absolutely no desire to take another bite of anything for the night. But you just had to see it to believe it. Had he cooked it himself? And most importantly, why is Emily's father, who was clearly as British as they came, celebrating Thanksgiving to begin with?
You told yourself you just needed to have your answers and before you knew it you were following Emily inside while Harry held the door for the two of you.
He was tall. You were beginning to suspect you were getting yourself into trouble, noticing all these things about him. You were still not over how young he looked. How could this guy be Emily's dad? Of course your father was older, but that's because there was already a 7 year gap between you and your brother, but, what was he, 40? There's no way he was a day over 40. Was Emily a lovechild?
"Y/N?"
"Sorry?" you snapped back to reality, Emily and her father both looking at you a bit puzzledly "I must've zoned out, I'm sorry. Long day"
"In that case, I think a drink is in order."
"Oh, no, no. I drove here, I can't."
"I'll drive you back, alright? You can unwind a bit. Family giving you a hard time?" Harry teased, heading towards the bar.
"Ugh... You could say that."
You were sat next to Emily on the sofa, while Harry fixed your drinks and, frankly, your head was spinning. His home was so... homey. No way a single guy was living here. But then again... you didn't know if he was single. Although Emily did mention him being lonely. But maybe she meant he was lonely for his daughter to spend more time with him?
"Y/N!" Emily giggled "Dad, I think maybe skip the bourbon? She looks a bit out of it. I didn't realize you were so tired, Y/N, I'm sorry. Thanks again for offering to drive me, you didn't have to, considering it's been a long day, and, well..."
"No, no. Hey, relax. I'm all right. Yeah it's been a long day. But that nightcap sounds great, actually" Harry appeared next to you just then handing you the glass and you sniffed it appreciatively. He then offered Emily the same and your eyes widened a bit, not having expected that.
"Dad lets me drink on special occasions now that I'm legal" she clarified "Since that's the legal age for Brits, I guess"
Harry clicked their glasses together in a toast "'s right, honey. No reason why you have to adhere to these barbaric rules under my roof. You've got British blood running through you, after all... even if you'd fool anyone with that god awful accent of yours"
You snorted at that. You maybe shouldn't have downed your whole glass in a few sips, but it was just that good. They gave you an amused look each and then Harry excused himself to go set the table in the dining room.
"Need any help, dad?"
"No, sweetums. Keep your friend company, be a good host, all right?" he called over from the kitchen
"Hey. Your dad is... really cool" you couldn't help but blurt that out.
"I know, right?" Emily grinned "Let me top this off for you"
"Oh, no, I really shouldn't" but she was already pouring more into both your glasses signaling for you to keep quiet
"He's got all this good stuff all to himself, it's only fair. And he said he'd drive you home. He's not gonna have another glass, I know how he is."
Just then he appeared in the archway "Indulging yourselves, girls? Nice bottle, innit?"
"Please toast with us, I feel awful. I'll get a cab. Enjoy yourself"
"I am" he stated, simply "Besides, I said I would drive you and I'm a man of my word"
"Ok, what if Y/N sleeps over and that way you both get to quote unquote indulge. How's that sound? Plus this way, you get to try some leftovers for breakfast and I swear they're even better the next day."
Your eyes widened at her proposal "Oh no, I couldn't possibly impose-"
"Again with the imposing?" Harry hummed "You're more than welcome if you'd like to stay. I won't even bunk you two together, I know how girls get about personal space, so don't worry, you'll have a bed all to yourself. No family drama for a night, just nice bourbon and hopefully a decent meal. Sound good?"
"Sounds amazing" you said dreamily, maybe a little more dreamily than you'd have liked, but the bourbon was getting to you. It really was good stuff. Plus, you just couldn't refuse Harry. You had a feeling he could coax you into doing anything.
With that in mind, you weren't really sure how you made it to the dining room table but suddenly, faced with all those delicious dishes layed out in front of you, you couldn't help but taste a bit of everything. It was only polite, you told yourself, but after having a taste your brows furrowed. You chewed and cleared your throat "You're telling me you cooked this yourself, Mr. Styles?"
Both Emily and her father chuckled and almost choke on their food, both reaching for their glasses "Who's Mr. Styles?" Emily giggled
"You can call me Harry, I told you that" he clarified, a lazy smile on his face "And yeah. With these two hands" he wiggled his ring adorned fingers and you downed your glass, nearly choking on your food yourself.
"Talented fingers"
Did you really just say that? Before you could even register it you watched Harry raise an eyebrow while lowering his gaze to his plate, a smirk on his face. Emily hadn't really caught on to the innuendo, thankfully, she seemed oblivious.
Oh God. Downing that second glass really was a mistake. It was like trying to extinguish a fire by throwing alcohol on it.
Your eyes went back to your own plate as soon as you saw his reaction, placing your now empty glass next to it.
You allowed yourself to process all this while the father-daughter duo chatted amongst themselves. You didn't just imagine that. He definitely smirked at your innuendo. You hadn't even deliberately flirted with him, it just... slipped? And how could you not!? The man was fire. The more you looked at him, the more you could feel yourself grow hot. Even now as he was talking to his daughter, you could literally feel his eyes on you and when you looked up, you were met with his intense gaze. He held yours for just a tad more than had been necessary, his expression changing while looking back at his daughter, and you knew right then and there, you were fucked. Or at least, you hoped you'd be.
Whoah! You caught yourself. That realization sobered you up real quick. You excused yourself to the bathroom and Emily kindly explained where it was.
Normally when you visited someone's home for the first time, you paid close attention to the decor, the furnishing, the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Especially if it was a bachelor's pad. You could really tell a lot about a man by the way he kept his home. But this time, you barely registered anything on your short trip down the hall and to the left.
Why do they always show people splashing their faces with cold water in front of the sink in movies? Does everybody just wear waterproof mascara? You definitely needed it, but you didn't want to risk looking like a racoon. You already more than probably looked like an absolute imbecile to Harry. That little smirk? Oh, he was unto you. He probably got that a lot. Single guy such as himself probably had women fawning over him left right and center. The last thing he needed was his daughter's friend hitting on him.
Well, to be fair, Emily wasn't technically really your friend. You were 7 years older than her, so you weren't really what would be considered too young for him, were you?
"Oh my God, you fucking whore!" you whispered-screamed to your own reflection, dramatically slapping your cheeks with each palm, alternatively, for good measure. You needed to stop it, right this instant. This was inappropriate on so many levels! Your tool of a brother dated his daughter!!! Your parents and him may as well end up in laws one day! Ew!!!
You were suddenly startled by a soft rasp against the door. You froze when you heard his deep voice next on the other side "Y/N? Is everything alright?"
Shit shit shit!
"Uhm, yeah!... Why?" You slapped your forehead. Why? Really, Y/N?
You could hear him chuckle and you wondered whether he could hear you panicking on the other side of that door "It's just that you've been in there a while. Long enough for Emily to pass out"
Your eyes widened and you pulled the door open, forgetting to fake flush the toilet even "Oh? I'm sorry! I didn't realize..."
He was leaning against the doorframe, way closer to the door than you'd expected him to be. You took a step back instinctively and you saw him furrow his brows at that, pulling on his earlobe a bit "Are you quite sure you're all right? You look a bit... flustered"
"Oh, it's the bourbon" you shrugged "Especially after the day that I've had..."
"Want to finish your dinner? You barely touched your food"
"Oh no, thanks. It was lovely though, you're a great chef"
"Yeah. Talented fingers"
You could feel your cheeks burn up at that, especially with the way he bit his lower lip amusedly, but he stepped away from the door, making you realize just where you'd had this awkward conversation. You closed the door behind you and followed him down the halfway back to the living room.
"Where's Emily?"
"Went to bed, was exhausted, poor thing. Told you she passed out, could barely keep her eyes open so I sent her to bed. She was really nervous over meeting your family, got all worked up over it"
You stuffed your hands into your pockets. That was not a conversation you could stomach right now "She's real sweet. She looks a lot like you"
Harry furrowed his brows once more, his lips quirking up while he was pouring each of you yet another glass of that damned bourbon. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was trying to get you tipsy "You calling me sweet?"
"I... I, I meant-" you stammered like a schoolgirl getting caught reading erotica under her desk.
He handed you your glass and you just took it, taking a long sip to shut yourself up.
"Relax, I'm just teasing, Y/N. I know what you meant. Yeah, she's like a carbon copy, almost like I made her just by myself. I like to pretend that I have" he chuckled to himself, suddenly downing his glass. You hadn't expected that. Touchy subject?
He grabbed the bottle "Let's take this outside, what say? It's a clear, warm night. Wouldn't want to wake up Emily"
You shrugged "Might as well get smashed, I'm rapidly getting there. Why not?"
"No you're not" he mumbled and you just gave him a confused look "You're sober, it's the tiredness perhaps that's got you all... flustered. I wouldn't let you get wasted, don't worry. Being the responsible adult and all that" he added, tongue in cheek
What does one even say to that? He was right. You were sober, you'd drank just enough to loosen up a bit, but otherwise you too knew that it wasn't the alcohol that had gotten you all ... "flustered". You wanted to kick yourself for being so obvious.
You both sat on the back porch, on a swing that was barely long enough to keep a decent distance between the two of you. The lights were out and in the dark, you could see fireflies in his garden. You could hear crickets. And you could see the stars; it was, indeed, a clear night.
"Do you mind?" you asked, grabbing your cigarette pack from your backpocket
"Not if you share"
You offered him the pack to fish out a cigarette "No, just give me a few drags, I quit a long time ago"
"A long time ago?" you raised an eyebrow even though you were fairly sure he couldn't really see it. You lit your cigarette, took a drag and handed it to him "How long ago?"
He took it from you and you could see the end lighten up as he inhaled. He exhaled through his nose, you could tell he'd been used to doing this fairly often "Hmm. Some twenty years ago"
You cleared your throat at that, as he handed it back to you, and you tried your darnedest not to think about the fact that his lips had just been right there "Well, damn. How old are you, exactly, anyway?"
You could hear the smile in his voice "How old do you think I am?"
You looked at him, his features a bit more clear as your eyes accustomed in the dark "If I hadn't known Emily, I would have said 38.40, tops, but that's pushing it a bit"
His eyes widened and his smile grew into a grin, his teeth matching the white of his eyes in the dark "Yeah? You flatter me"
His deep voice made you shiver, but you told yourself it was getting chilly. You took another sip of your brandy as he took another drag "Get out. There's no way you're older than that"
"Hate to disappoint, sweetheart. I'm 42 actually"
You almost missed registering what his actual age was, you were too caught up on him calling you "sweetheart". But you told yourself it was just a thing Brits do. You just blinked at him, how was it possible that this man was 42? That was... just not possible. He looked way better than even men your age did. The silver in his hair was absolutely delicious. Not too much, just perfect. His body was well toned and his broad shoulders stretched that shirt he was wearing deliciously. He was fit, he was quick on his toes but at the same time laid back and had an air of nonchalance that was sexy as fuck. The kind of self assuredness that men your age lacked.
You realized you'd been staring when he just held out the cigarette for you in front of your face to close your lips around. Crap, you were doing it again. Being obvious. "Sorry. That's just... crazy to me. But I'll take your word for it"
He laughed at that, but quietly enough so that the crickets were still the loudest sound to be heard. You then eyed him curiously and asked "How old do you think I am?"
"Hm. That sounds like a trick question."
"Why so?"
He just shook his head while pouring the both of you more bourbon. You'd officially lost count of how many glasses you'd had "That is an even trickier one. Hmmm. I would say 22, 23? But I'm kind of hoping you just look way younger than you actually are"
You were mid sip when he'd said all that in his deep, low voice and you nearly spilled it all over yourselves. You gulped audibly, hopefully not being overtly obvious about how much you were freaking out internally.
Ok. This was really happening. Could it? Should it? When you worked up your courage to look at him he was standing somehow even closer than he'd been up until then and you shivered again at the proximity and the unspoken promise of what could be if your skin ever eventually touched.
"Cold?" he murmured and you just shook your head, slowly
"I'm 25"
He looked at you for a long while, and you could nearly hear his mind go a hundred miles an hour. What was he thinking? Was he disappointed? Was he entranced? Was it a turn off or quite the opposite? Cause to you, it wasn't that much of a surprise, you'd always secretly been into older men but that was just textbook daddy issues. But you could definitely tell he was conflicted.
Before either of you could say anything though, your phone rang, and it startled the both of you, so much so that you actually bumped into him a bit. You answered the call, all flustered, without even checking to see who it was.
Your brother's voice was way too loud, especially compared to the sereneness that you'd been engulfed in uptil then "Y/N? Where the fuck you at? Mom keeps pestering me about it, why aren't you home yet? How far away does she even live?"
"Keep your voice down" you shushed him "I'm fine. I've... decided to crash here since I stayed for dinner and it got late"
"Well, shit, Y/N. You could've texted. That's not like you. Stop being a selfish brat and think about those around you for a change, huh?"
You could actually feel Harry tense up beside you but you tried playing it cool "I did, that's why I offered to drive your girlfriend after you and father had a bit too much to drink. I should've texted though, sorry"
"You shouldn't have offered in the first place, now you're crashing at their place like a weirdo because you can't tell a genuine dinner invitation from a pity invite. What are you trying to do, scare Emily away?"
You could feel your blood boil, that's exactly what you've been trying to prevent "Goodnight, Derek"
"Yeah. Thanks for nothing, sis"
You just sat there for a long moment until Harry broke the silence "So that's who my daughter's dating?"
You winced. Crap. Of course he heard all that "In his defence, I'm his sister. It's kinda mandatory to treat your sister like crap"
Harry furrowed his brows "No it isn't. I never spoke to mine this way, not even as a joke, and definitely not when I was genuinely mad at her"
You exhaled "Harry, listen... please don't think too much of it. He's had a few to drink, don't let him be right about me scaring Emily away with my being here."
He held his breath for a moment then shook his head "No, you're right. I'll make up my own mind about him when I meet him. But I was already questioning why you'd driven Emily here and not him. We'll see."
You couldn't help the shivers this time either. The way his whole demeanour changed in a matter of seconds got you almost panting. The authoritative tone was doing things to your body, things that couldn't be ignored.
He stood up and gestured for you to follow "Come on, let's head in, it's getting cold. I'll show you to where you'll be sleeping"
-----------------------------
A/N: slow burn, i know. foreplay is important, peeps! excited for part 2? looking forward to feedback! 💕
💕 vote, follow & comment if you're enjoying this, lovelies!
follow me @fkinavocado on tumblr for more