a/n: the rat of all my dreamsð¥°
* * *
"Did you notice we passed Abbey Road Studios?" Harry asks after what felt like hours of silence, even though it was probably only 20 minutes or so.
"We did?" I ask, feeling a pinch in my heart. That was something I wanted to see when I visited London the first time but never got around to doing. "I wish I was paying better attention."
"It's alright," he says. His face failed at masking the fact that he wished he didn't bring it up in the first place. "You can always see it on our way back. I'll be here to remind you."
"Have you ever recorded there?" I ask out of curiosity, though I was certain I already knew the answer. Of course, he has. He's Harry Styles.
"I have." He nods. "Amazing studio."
"When do you think the next time will be?" I ask. I feel a wave of shock wash over me as I watch the corner of his mouth quirk up the tiniest bit before he presses his lips into a thin, straight line.
"No idea." He shakes his head while also shrugging his shoulders. "But it's a good thing to wonder, isn't it?"
"I guess," I say with a shrug and a laugh, wondering why he was acting like he was implying something there.
* * *
Alas, we arrive at Anne's house. I felt the tightness in my stomach reach its peak once we pulled into the driveway leading to her red brick house.
"Are you ready?" Harry asks me in a sing-song voice, shifting the car into park. I could feel my heartbeat in my head, my palms becoming sweaty.
I shouldn't be this nervous. This isn't my first time meeting Anne. But it's my first time formally meeting her. Before, I was just a random fan who was chatting with Harry backstage. Now I'm Lili, and there's a major difference between the two.
I gave Harry a nod, unbuckling my seatbelt before opening the door and stepping out of the car. It was cold enough outside to need a coat, but not too cold. Probably no less than 45 degrees, which surprised me, since I'm used to high 20's this time of year back home.
I walk around to the tail end of the car to see Harry's already opening the trunk to load our luggage out. He grabs both our bags in his hands before I even have the chance to reach for mine.
"Would you mind pushing that button to let this down?" Harry asks in a kind voice, nodding to gesture toward the trunk.
I nod and reach up to push the button, the trunk door closing on its own soon after. Harry turns to me, a smile on his face. Then, he walks around the car without saying a word. Shuffling a bit, I follow him, having to pick my speed up a little since he takes such long strides.
We walk up to the door, and just as I expected him to knock, he moves his duffel bag to join my suitcase in his opposite hand, before reaching for the doorknob and opening the door without hesitation. The second we stepped into Anne's home, my nose was immediately met with the smell of something amazing. It smelled like freshly baked cookies and happiness. I made a mental note to ask her what candles she used.
"Honey, I'm home!" Harry calls out upon stepping through the door. And in only a few milliseconds, I hear the sound of quick footsteps approaching. Shortly after, I see Anne appear from behind the corner at the end of the short hallway that separated the front door from the rest of the house.
"Darling!" Anne says, welcoming her son home with open arms. She sounded relieved, seeming as though she'd been awaiting his arrival for a while. With quick strides, she approaches
the two of us, eagerly wrapping her arms around Harry, planting a loving kiss to the side of
his face. "I'm so happy you made it."
Harry kisses her cheek before they pull away from the hug. "It's great to be back."
Anne gives Harry a loving stare, her hand still resting on his cheek, before turning away. Now her attention was on me and I felt my body freeze as she and I made eye contact. I could tell who Harry got his eyes from. Although I know how sweet she is, her gaze is definitely intimidating.
"Lili," she says my name, her voice smooth like melted butter. There was something about the combination of her accent and the tone of her voice that was just so incredibly soothing. I feel like I could listen to her talk for hours. I guess that runs in the family too.
"Yeah," I whisper out, my throat feeling as stiff as the rest of my body felt. I wasn't sure how to respond, and I felt stupid for my choice of words, but it was too late to do anything about it now.
As I'm mentally kicking myself for being so irrationally nervous, Anne extends her arms out before enveloping me in a warm, welcoming embrace of my own.
"It's so great to finally meet you," she says softly mid-hug before lowering her voice down a notch, "I'm so glad you could come."
Her saying that she was happy I was there made me feel warm inside, and ten times more welcome. I now felt comfortable enough to wrap my arms around her, genuinely returning the hug.
After a short moment, we pull away, and her attention is quickly drawn to the bags Harry had yet to set down. "You two can just set your bags down in your room," she speaks up, turning around on her heel before walking down the hallway. "Harry, you know your way around."
Harry gives her a nod and I follow him down a hall to a closed bedroom. But I couldn't help but feel surprised...and a little confused. Anne was planning on us staying in the same room, and presumably the same bed too. If it was my mother, I would be told to sleep in her bed with her, and Harry and my dad would sleep out in the living room. Of course, I'm only guessing, since I've never experienced that kind of situation. But I feel like that's what would happen.
"She's always one for grand surprises," he mumbles with a smile as he turns the doorknob before pushing the door open.
Behind the door was a very well decorated guest bedroom. It was a very...exotic theme if that would be the right word to use. To get what I mean, just know the comforter was a mauve purple and there were two green throw pillows with cheetahs printed on the front of them.
I watch as Harry sets the two bags down near the foot of the queen-sized bed. My heart almost dropped out of my chest as I felt something touch my leg. I gasp loudly, raising my leg nearly to my chest before my gaze shoots down to see a furry white creature with black spots.
"Evie!" Harry gasps in excitement as soon as his eyes land on the little cat that was just trying to rub against my leg. He walks over to me and crouches down near my feet, placing his hand on Evie's head. He scratches behind her ears and she leans into his hand, probably just as happy to see him as Anne was.
"She's Harry's cat, actually," I hear a female voice come from the door frame. I look over to see Anne standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
Harry gives her a side-eye as he continues to pet Evie, but cracks a smile, so I knew he wasn't really all that mad.
"Sorry, I should've knocked," she quickly apologizes, but proceeds to walk into the room, hands in the back pockets of her blue jeans. "But she's really Harry's cat. Maybe is Gemma's. Both of my kiddos have their cat here, even though I'm the one who really takes care of them."
"Unlike someone I know," Harry says standing up, picking up Evie to cradle her in his arms, "I actually take care of mine."
"Oh, hush." Anne seats at his arm softly.
"How many cats do you have?" I ask with a smile. I love cats. I'm far more of a cat person than a dog person.
"Four," she says, "all girls."
I nod reaching out to pet Evie, who laid comfortably in Harry's arms.
"By the way," Anne speaks up again. "I was planning on making ratatouille for dinner tonight, is that alright with you? Do you like ratatouille?"
"Love it," I tell her with a nod. "It sounds amazing, thank you."
"It's one of Harry's favorites, and it's kind of a tradition for me to make it whenever he visits," she informs me and I feel my heart melt. That's adorable. Anne lets out a sigh, clasping her hands together. "Well, I'll let you two get settled in. Dinner will be at 5:30, which I know is kind of early, but I'm way too impatient to wait."
"That's alright, mum, we can eat early," Harry says, giving me a look as if to say 'you're okay with it, right'âto which I give him a nod.
"Sounds good then," Anne says before leaving Harry and me alone in the room to get settled.
* * *
"Thank you so much for this, Anne," I thank her sincerely. "It was amazing."
We sat down to eat a little over ten minutes ago, and the majority of all our food was gone, so we've just been sitting with small talk casually floating around the table.
"Ah, no worries." She waves me off dismissively. "Like, I said earlier, it's a tradition I'm fairly used to now. It's really no trouble."
"Well, still," I say, a soft smile on my face. "It tastes incredible."
"Where did you say you were from again, Colorado?" She asks, setting her fork down so her attention was fully on me.
"Yeah, I am." I nod. "I live in Denver."
"Oh, did you grow up there?" She asks, and I see Harry tense up out of the corner of my eye.
"No, actually," I tilt my head, "I grew up in Arizona."
"Oh, why did you move away?" She frowns.
"Mum, don't you think that's a little personal?" Harry mutters.
"No, it's okay," I say, placing a hand on his arm to reassure him that it was fine. I turn back to Anne. "I wanted to go to The University of Colorado...I'm not exactly sure why, but I wanted to."
"Really? What did you study?" She raises her eyebrows, seemingly very interested in my life story.
"Well, I originally went for adolescent psychology, but it wasn't really for me," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up. I hated talking about that part of my college experience. It made me feel like a failure since I couldn't even handle a whole semester. "I decided to pursue a career in cosmetology instead, so I do nails for a living."
Well, used to.
"I saw Harry's nails," Anne's face lights up. "Did you do them?"
"I did." I feel myself blush.
"Well they're quite impressive," she compliments. "Harry sent me a picture when they were first done. I loved them!"
I look over at Harry, whose face is now a light shade of pink as he holds up his hand, looking down at the now chipping nail polish on his fingers.
"By the way," he says, "do you think there's any way you could do them for The Brits? Gotta look my best, you know."
"Of course." I nod. "We might have to go get polish though. I didn't bring any with me."
"That's okay." He shrugs.
I hear Anne laugh affectionately and I immediately turn my head in her direction.
"You two are adorable," she says, and that makes me think of something.
She has yet to question either of us about our relationship, I think, switching my glances from Harry to Anne as she stands up, then back to Harry. She hasn't asked how long we've been together, or why I'm traveling around with him so much. I know for a fact that if we were visiting my mom, all these questions would be thrown at us the second we walked through the door. Yet, Harry thought her asking why I moved away from Arizona was personal.
Maybe she just already knows all the details.
"I'll take your dishes if you're finished," Anne offers, extending an arm out for me to hand her my plate.
I quickly stand to my feet, picking up my plate so I can follow her to the sink. "I can do it."
"Oh, darling, there's no need for you to help me tidy up," Anne says kindly. "You're the guest, take a seat...relax."
"Oh, I'm happy to help," I say quickly, gripping the plate tighter in my hands.
Anne must've seen the stubbornness written across my face because she shrugged and turned around to step away.
"Are you finished with this?" I ask Harry in a whisper.
"Yeah, but-"
I quickly picked up his plate before he had the chance to finish his sentence, stacking it on top of mine. I rushed to catch up with Anne, as she was already in the kitchen by now.
"What can I do to help?" I offer after she takes the plates in my hands from me.
"But you're the guest," she tries to argue, but I quickly shake my head.
"I'm fully willing to help, I can't just sit and watch," I say. "What do you need help with?"
She sighs, turning on the faucet to rinse off the dishes. I could imagine the wheels in her head turning as she thought. "You could....help me put the leftovers in a container?"
"Done," I say.
"Thank you so much," she says to me gratefully, bending down to place the plates on the bottom rack of the dishwasher.
"Of course. Anytime."
She walks to the right end of the kitchen where she opens up a cabinet.
"I, uh, I saw your garden out the window," I say shyly, trying to strike up a conversation. "It looks amazing...you must've put a lot of hard work into it."
"Well, it's all dead at the moment." She laughs softly. She takes a tupperware bowl and lid out before making her way back toward me. "You'll have to come back when the weather's a bit warmer. It's beautiful in the summertime."
"I'm sure it is," I say, turning briefly to smile at her before looking back down. "I think it'd be really fun to garden, but I don't have much of a backyard at home. And even then, my roommate and I can hardly keep our houseplants alive."
"Well, if you ever find yourself somewhere with a backyard large enough for one, you should give it a go," she says with a soft smile on her face as she uses a ladle to scoop the leftover ratatouille into the tupperware bowl. "Sometimes when I'm out there alone for a while, I don't ever want to come inside." She chuckles fondly at the thought. "It can be so incredibly peaceful and very therapeutic. And then once you see everything you've grown, you kind of can't help but feel a sense of pride."
"I'll take your word for it." I flash her a soft smile.
* * *