You had been nervous the whole plane ride. Harry had noticed you had been acting strange. He found you behaved odd every time your family was mentioned, but you weren't aware.

Harry took your hand as you stepped off the plane. He had been just as nervous, being this would mark the first time he would meet your family, even though he had already proposed.

Your dad was to meet you at the gate, where he would drive you and Harry back to your childhood home, which is where your younger sisters wedding would take place this weekend.

"Where is your ring?" Harry questions as you both walk slowly through the terminal. "In my purse," you answer quickly.

"And why might it be in there?"

"Well, I just think that we should wait a little you know? Since it's my sister's weekend and I don't want 'steal her moment' or anything."

Harry face falls at your reply. "But hey, my dad he can be... intimidating. He doesn't like to be touched, and do not bring up the Vietnam War. Although he does like talking about the Civil War. And if you get stuck or can't think of anything to say, just ask about the Yankees."

Just as you finish your speech, you see your father standing, towering above everyone else. "Hi dad." You hug him as Harry stands idly by.

"And is this Harry I suppose?"

"Yes dad."

"Hello sir, I'm Harry it's nice to finally meet you." Harry sticks his hand out, but your father does not return it.

"Yes it is."

The silence is overbearing. Your father gives a hard stare to Harry intentionally, making Harry fidget. You smile quietly towards him.

"So... how about those Yankees?" Harry suggests. You laugh, as your dad's face immediately lights up.

•••••

The car ride to your house was not as terrible as you had expected. Both Harry and your dad warmed up to each other quite nicely, but you were still uncomfortable, as you never really felt like you belonged in your family. You were always the ugly duckling.

After meeting the whole family and a lovely, long, boring rehearsal dinner, you showed Harry upstairs.

"So this is my room," you point to the door in front of you. "And that," you point to the guest room across the hall, "is yours."

He chuckles. "Are you kidding me?" He smiles, thinking you're messing with him. "No. It's just a family thing."

"Heyyy. Are you sure you're alright." Harry's hand brushes against your cheek, pushing a piece of hair from your face.

You look down at the ground. "Yeah I'm fine."

"Are you getting cold feet? Cause if you are, we can wait—"

You cut Harry off.

"My feet aren't cold. They're warm." You whisper confidently.

"Just warm?"

"Burning hot." You answer. He smiles warmly, and kisses you softly on your forehead.

"Now go to bed." He whimpers before turning around and dragging his feet through the hall and into the guest room.