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"I'm so sorry about my grandmother." I apologize, dipping my French fry inside my milkshake. After we had left my grandmothers house, Harry had asked me what I felt like eating and I suggested a simple but delicious burger place would suffice.

"It's fine." He says, wiping his mouth with the napkin while eyeing my actions. I dipped another fry before eating it. "You know, I should just fire you because of that." He says making scrunch my eyebrows.

"Why!"

"You're mixing a greasy, salty vegetable inside a sugary drink. It's disgusting." He grimaces making me laugh.

"Right, you're British." I nod.

"What's that supposed to mean? We're not good enough for an American woman like yourself?" He teases with a smirk making me chuckle.

"You have boring foods, that's why you find dipping fries into a milkshake disgusting."

"You Americans are atrocious. You cannot insult my country if you've never been."

"Oh I've been." I say, finishing off my fries. "My mom was American, living in London when she met my father. I lived there up until I was two."

"You know, I never really asked about your parents. I don't think you've ever even mentioned them before."

I shrug. "They're dead." I say and his face immediately falls.

"I'm so sorry Rosalie, I didn't know." He says.

"It's fine. When I was two my mom and dad went out to a party to celebrate my fathers new job and on their way back they were hit by a double decker bus. They never made it home, so my grandparents took me in and brought me to America."

He looks at me with sympathy in his eyes. "I'm sorry I shouldn't of asked." He places his hand over mine and rubs circles.

"It's okay to let it out once in a while. I've never actually spoken about it with anybody."

There's a moment of silence between us before he speaks up. "Wait - so that means You're British? You were born in London, right?"

"I was, but I consider myself more American than not. I've been here almost all my life." I say.

"Where's your accent?" He asks.

"I never had one, I was way too young and I didn't say my first word until I was about three."

"Oh, late bloomer?" He smirks.

"I'm everything. My boobs didn't start growing until I was in high school." I say making him laugh, a genuine laugh that I had never really heard often. I watched as his eyes crinkled on the sides when he laughed and his dimples carved into his cheeks, making the sight far more beautiful. "I really am sorry if my grandmother embarrassed you, she can be too much sometimes."

He waves me off. "Don't be, she's pretty great. I wish I still had my grandmother. The only parental figure I've got is my mum."

I nod. "You know, in a way we complete each other." I say. "I don't have a mom, but you do and I have a grandma but you don't."

Harry smiles and nods. "We're complete then."