Moments (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 4

"Why are you so worried? You've met them before." Annie asked as we took the train to Castle Cary.

"That was at your flat. I'm going to be your Dad's domain now." I said, bouncing my leg.

"Hey, you'll be fine. He likes you. He told me himself." She smiled, kissing my cheek. "You might have to share a room with my brother though."

"WHAT?!"

"Calm down, you loon! Mum and Dad are going to make sure he's on his best behavior. Actually, all of my brothers are coming over." She told me, absentmindedly flipping through a magazine as if was no big deal she had five older brothers. She had told me they had all taken after her Dad. He was 6'5(convert) and strong. If she had five older brothers like that, I was dead.

"You look like you're going to be sick." Annie frowned, looking at me. "Your family is going to be there."

"My family?"

"Yeah. My mum and your mum really hit it off when they first met and they're really good friends now. My Mum invited your entire family up to stay with us while we're there."

"I didn't know that. I wonder why my Mum didn't tell me." I said, feeling a little discouraged.

"I think she wanted to make it a surprise. Sorry." She said, smiling sheepishly.

"It's fine." I said, smiling back at her. At least I wasn't being left out. I looked over again and Annie had fallen asleep. I put up the arm between us and pulled her closed so her head was resting on my chest. I wrapped my arm around her and looked out the window as a blur of green passed. An hour later we were at the train station, climbing onto the platform.

"My Dad's right over there." I said, nodding towards the end of the platform.

Patrick O'Reiley was one of the most intimidating men you will ever meet. And he knew it. Maybe that's why he smiled so much. A tall and built Irishman, he had a full head of dark brown hair that didn't show any sign of balding or graying soon, although he was almost 50 years. He had eyes the same shade of flint, with sharpness that seemed could cut through your soul. He was a business tycoon in the United Kingdom, worth millions upon millions of pounds. He worked from the bottom up, and now he was the CEO of a major corporation. He made the commute into London from his country house every weekday by train during holidays. The scariest thing was how much he cared about his daughter. He warned me not to do anything to his daughter. Or else.

I didn't need any other warning than that.

I followed her as her Dad came forward and lifted her up, spinning her around and setting her on the ground. He spotted me a few feet behind. He came towards me and pulled me into a tight hug, then pulled back and grinned at me.

"Good ta see ye again, Harry." He said in his thick Irish accent.

"You too, sir." I nodded.

"I told ye, call me Patrick." He smiled. "Come on, Mam's waitin' for ye both back home." He led us back to his car, helping us get our bags in the back and climbing into the driver's seat as we climbed in the back.

"How've ye been, Annie? Ye haven't called that much." He said, looking in the rear-view mirror.

"You're working when I call." She told him.

"Call when Ah'm home then." He grinned.

"I'll try, Dad." She smiled back.

"Harry, how's the band goin'? How's that Niall lad?" He asked me. Niall and her Dad had met, and they hit it off immediately.

"Good, sir. We just released another album."

"Me wife's been listenin' ta it. She likes a lot."