DELILAH *Sequel*

I guess I'm not the daughter that they expected to have. Oh well.
My mother (the only person in this world that defends me) was diagnosed with lung cancer just a few months ago, and none of us even want to think about how much longer she has. My older sister, Minnie, just went off to college, and without daddy's little princess in the house, he gets mad about everything and anything. He hates the love of my life, my friends, my job and all the other things in my life that I love.
Oh, and I forgot to mention, my father is Harry Styles... Right?

Part II to MINNIE (A Harry Styles Fan-fiction)


3. Three

Minnie left three days later. 

"Bye, Lila. I love you. Call me whenever, K?"

"Sure." I replied, bothered by her enthusiasm. "Bye, Sis." I kissed her cheek, and handed over one of her bags. She smiled at me, getting teared up.

You see, Minnie and I are very different. She so sensitive and emotional, that sometimes I feel like I'm the older one. She's girly and pink. I'm subtle and quiet. She gets all the male attention, from football players and the- well, any guy really. She's never even had a real boyfriend. Just hookups and drunk sex. 

Her light brown waves slapped me in the face as she flicked her head towards Dad. He probably still thinks that she hasn't even had her first kiss yet. She's Daddy's little princess. And I'm his ugly pumpkin. "Pumpkin, could you get Minnie's present out of the compartment of the car?" Told ya. I pursed my lips and nodded, obeying his words. I handed him the small box, and Mom reached for my hand. I don't know why my family is so dramatic. Like a fictional book or a sappy movie. "Minnie. You know that we are very proud of you for all that you've accomplished this year. So, your mother and I got you this as a going away present." he held a silver locket in front of him. She blushed bashfully, knowing that people around us on the campus were staring. She loved the audience. 

"Thank you." she whispered, grinning to show her deep dimples. Dad secured the necklace in place and kissed her cheek proudly. 

"I'll be in the car." I mumbled, letting go of Mom's hand and walking to our vehicle. I looked through the rear view mirror and noticed that everyone had started crying. They should just go on about their lives without me. It seems happier that way. Look at them, group hugging and smiling together. Whatever. I'm done with the drama. 


"Hey, Mom?" 

"Yeah, sweet pea?" she asked, folding some of the clothes that Minnie had left behind. I was sprawled out across her bed, swinging my feet to a certain rhythm

"Why is my hair so much darker than Minnie's?" I asked, standing up and tip toeing to the full sized mirror against the wall. I took a close look at myself, and started asking the questions that I've wondered for a long time. It was no big deal, really. I was just curious. "And how come my eyes are blue and everyone else's are green?" I knew all along that I was the odd one in the family, but I never bothered asking why. "And where did I get this beauty mark from? And-"

"Because you look like your grandmother, honey." she looked down, and kept folding. "My mother. You've never met her. But she knows all about you." she nodded, looking into my eyes and giving me a small smile. "So who's Kevin?" she was quickly willing to change the subject, but I didn't mind.

"A guy." I said shyly.

"Hmm... A guy.... And how come I've never heard of this guy?" she asked amusingly. 

"I don't know. I thought you'd tell Dad."

"Pfft. Oh come on, I was a teenager once, too." she hopped on the bed like a ten year old and patted the spot next to her. "Go ahead." her head was tilted as she waited for the details. I slowly took a seat in front of her, observing her tired face. Mom had rings under her eyes and dry lips. But she was so beautiful, even without hair. She had a sexy red bandanna on today, and fierce black eyeliner. It was one of my favorite looks on her, especially when she added red lipstick. She got diagnosed with lung cancer a little while ago. The doctor said it was because of her bad smoking habit that she'd started when her and Dad started having trouble with their marriage a few years ago.

"I love him." Was all I said, sighing. 

"Oh, really? What kind of love?" she rested her chin in her hands. "Just 'love' love? Or that real strong love?" 

"Strong love." I nodded.

"Or is it the kind of love that makes your heart ache until you feel like melting to pieces and screaming at the top of your lungs... But at the same time... it feels so good?" 

"That one." I giggled along with her, surprised that she'd matched the exact feeling I had for Kevin. 

"I know how that is." she shrugged happily and sighed. "Hold onto it while you have it, cause soon... it'll be gone." she told me, referring to her relationship with Dad. 

"So I can still see him?" I asked, my face turning pale.

"Of course, angel." I put my head in her lap, the way I used to when I was younger, and she started running her nails through my pin straight hair. Just the way I liked it. I felt safe and warm with my Mom, and I don't know how in the world I'd be able to live without her. She's the only person who really listens to me, besides my boyfriend. "I love you, Delilah. You know that, don't you?" 

"I love you more, Mommy." I sniffled, trying to fight the tears coming from my eyes. 

"Don't cry, baby girl." she rubbed my head and inhaled a shaky breath. "Stop that nonsense." 

"I can't help it." I pulled her into a hug and let out my squeal. I couldn't believe that my mom was dying. Literally dying. "You have to fight, Mom." I whispered, wondering if she was on the same page as me. Somehow this turned into one of those crappy soap opera scenes. 

"I know, honey. I will."

"You promise?" 

"I promise on Tristan's little heart." she sobbed. Tristan is my little brother that died at birth when I was twelve. We never talk about him, so this was a big deal. The point is... that my mom has been through a lot of shit. And I know that she has the power to fight, because she's the strongest person I know. And that's why she's my role model. 

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