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despairdiseases · 4 years

Note

I saw your virgil angst post au where Thomas started repressing him after DWIT and I love that idea soooo much! I fell in love just reading the au idea, but could you write a fic? If so could you please tag me in it? Sorry to bother you lol but I just wanted to let you know i love that au so freaking much it just makes me adifjsaydfasgfsjd

It happened slowly, oh so slowly. No one is really to blame even though they think they are. He just started...being there less and less. Skipping the occasional family dinner. And then movie night. And then he stopped debating with Logan. And then he just. Stopped doing everything.

Until nothing remained.

“Oh, and Janus?”

“Yes, Logan?”

Logan hesitated before continuing, Roman already on his mind but he didn’t want to hurt Janus, make the wound worse on both sides, “Thank you for today, but...I would appreciate if you tried to talk with Roman. I am sure both of you said things you didn’t mean.”

Dec- Janus’ face fell on the mention of Roman, but he still put on a smile that somehow wasn’t as smug as it used to be, “Of course, I will try.”

And then they departed.

And then Janus checked up on Remus.

“Remus, look, I’m-”

“The ‘Evil Twin’?! Really?! I can’t fucking believe you!”

And then the door shut to his face.

And Logan checked up on Virgil.

“Virgil?” he said after his third set of knocks.

More knocks.

“Virgil, I am quite concerned with your well-being, please open the door.”

More knocks.

“...I know you don’t like it when we come to your room, but if you don’t answer I will be forced to act accordingly to the situation.”

He didn’t knock after that.

“...Virgil?” the name started to sound strange in his mouth.

Logan looked around the empty room.

Maybe he went to the dark sides? To make amends, maybe?

Logan walked out of the room, ignoring the feeling of wrong slowly rising in his gut.

- - -

“So how are things with Virgil?”

Janus shrugged. Remus still hasn’t come out of his room. “Maybe worse than before, haven’t seen him in over a week. Did he say anything about me?” he reminds himself to add, “Or Remus?”

Patton furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, I wouldn’t know, he’s cooped up in his room all day and night. Logan told me he was probably at your place.”

“I haven’t seen him in over a week,” Janus repeated.

“We neither.”

- - -

“He’s probably just throwing a tantrum,” Remus sounded annoyed, edging on irritated.

Remus hasn’t come out of his room until Roman basically dragged him out of there with bribes of fighting a new, better Dragon Witch and just general “please”es.

Not like Virgil, no. Virgil didn’t talk to anyone or even played his music way too loud like he did before and Logan wasn’t even sure he came out of his room to eat.

No, Remus was just angry at Janus. Which is fine, he understands. He fucked up and of course Remus is angry with him.

“Somehow I think Virgil would be more...vocal if he did.”

“Why don’t we just go into his room?” Roman played with the tablecloth on the dining table.

“I already tried that and I told you it was empty.”

“Logan, that was like a week ago.”

Eyes were rolled on both sides.

“A week and four days ago, actually.”

Roman groaned, “Whatever.”

“Roman’s right,” Patton finally spoke up, he had been unusually quiet, “We should go in his room, even if it’s against Virgil’s wishes. I am scared for him.”

So Remus got up, ignoring the others asking him what he’s doing, and went to Virgil’s room because god fucking damnit he just wants to get over with this and be angry again.

“Hey, raccoon, you better open the fucking door up or I’m coming in,” he accompanied the harsh words by equally harsh knocks, “And don’t you dare get all pissy about it when I do.”

He didn’t wait for Virgil to answer - if he even would answer.”

And Virgil didn’t get all pissy when he came in.

Because there was no Virgil.

And no cobwebs. And the lighting was brighter than he remembers.

So Remus went upstairs just as the other sides got to the door.

“Yooo, Stinky McStink, I’m in your room, don’t you wanna yell at me?” his voice was exaggerated and obnoxious. Maybe he was...just sleeping. Right?

The bed was made.

The curtains weren’t drawn.

It started to look too much like Thomas’ real bedroom.

That’s…

No there’s no way, right?

It’s not like Thomas actually could-

“Remus?”

Of fucking course it had to be Janus.

“You noticed it, right? The lack of...Virgil-ness.”

He doesn’t have the energy to be angry right now, “You don’t think that...Thomas couldn’t hate him that much...right?”

Right, Janus?

“You guys found him?” Roman’s voice came from downstairs.

“No,” Remus’ voice came quieter than he intended, but still enough for Roman to hear.

And a day later it became official when the door vanished.

Virgil was gone.

- - -

No one went to check up on Thomas anymore, because he would always ask Where’s Virgil? Where’s Virgil? Where’s Virgil? and they would have to tell him He’s not feeling well He’s tired He’s probably rewatching Nightmare Before Christmas again and Thomas knew something was wrong.

No one really spoke anymore or did anything.

“Could you get me the cereal?” Roman asked one morning, voice quiet and messy like his hair. It was too early to speak.

“...He ate the last cereal we had,” Janus responded after a while. It was too early to speak of Him.

“Oh.”

- - -

They weren’t exactly sure how to break the news to Thomas that he repressed his anxiety about everything so much that he repressed Anxiety.

Thomas still wasn’t quite sure how that worked but his anxiety levels haven’t changed much so he figured that it was temporary.

- - -

A month after they told him it became normal to speak.

“Could you get me the cereal?” Roman yawned.

Janus hummed, reaching to the cupboard for the box.

“Thanks,” the shorter mumbled, opening the box and eating it’s contents dry.

“You’re gross,” Janus watched after him.

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!” Remus giggled. He wasn’t mad at Janus anymore and Janus apologized.

- - -

Two months after they told him it became normal to walk the hallways. They still avoided That Corner Where It Was but it was normal to walk there again.

“Do you think we should paint the hallways?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “Roman you do know you can just change the colour of the hallways with your mind, right?

Roman tsked, “No I meant like,” he fumbled his hands, trying to find the words, “Paint Paint.”

“You mean like decorate them with drawings?”

“Exactly!”

“Well, I suppose it would be a good bonding activity, and possibly make Thomas feel more welcome.”

It was Remus who ended up painting a dragon over That Corner Where It Was. And as far as Logan was concerned, the drawing looked rather - how the kids would say - rad.

- - -

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“Happy New Year!” they shouted in unison, even got Logan to join in.

Thomas was invited to a party at his friend’s house on New Year’s Eve, there were fireworks in the sky and everything. Thomas wasn’t sure when he got a party hat.

“Alright you guys, see ya’ next year!” Patton was the first one to return to the mindscape, ending the night off with a corny joke.

The rest of the sides gradually went back too, as the night turned into very early morning. Roman and Janus were the last ones to stay, some of the fireworks still going off and the sound of parties and laughing and too loud conversations filling the air around them.

“I like that you grew your hair out, it’s a good look on you.”

Janus looked at Roman, who was sitting on the stairs beside him, “Well, you know what they say:”

“New year new me.”

Roman joined in on that part, doing his best to imitate Janus’ voice.

And they laughed.

And they talked.

And for the first time in a while it felt like nothing was missing at all, and maybe it wasn’t.

- - -

“Remus! Where did you put my hairbrush?” Roman’s voice came loud and shrill from the bathroom.

“I didn’t put your fucking hairbrush anywhere, you’re just a blind idiot!” Remus’ voice came from the kitchen, somehow even louder.

Logan ignored the twins’ squabble and continued his morning routine. What was he doing? Ah, right. Put in eyedrops. Make coffee. Clean his glasses-

…

“Remus why are my glasses broken?”

Remus groaned, “Why is it that when something goes wrong everyone always thinks it’s me?!”

“...Do you want me to list off the things that went wrong that you did cause?”

“Whatever, I didn’t break your fucking glasses, Logie,” he drank the coffee Logan made straight from the coffee maker.

Remus could basically see the gears turning in Logan’s head.

“House meeting!” Logan finally yelled, the loud noise making even Remus flinch. Logan repeated the words a few times until the rest of the sides came into the kitchen.

“It’s too early for this, Logan…” Roman whined, “‘m not sure Patton was even awake.”

Patton rubbed his eyes, glasses missing, “I wasn’t.”

“Sit down, I have something I want to discuss with you.”

“Well, yeah, you better,” Janus sat down beside Roman, who was still half-asleep.

“Right, so, you have noticed a lot of things go missing or break as of recently, as well as Thomas being significantly more anx- stressed out.”

A chorus of agreement came, some looks pointed at Remus.

“And we can’t be sure it’s Remus.”

“At least someone here trusts me. Not that you should, trusting me is a horrible idea.”

“So?” Roman rubbed the last of sleep out of his eyes.

“So who is it? I am sure that you wouldn’t do anything like this, and neither would Patton. While me and Janus aren’t exactly the fondest of your pranks.”

“Maybe it’s Virgil’s ghost haunting us,” Remus laughed.

The rest of the table didn’t laugh.

“He…” Logan started again, “It’s not like Thomas can resent someone, especially a part of himself, for so long, can he?”

“He’s gone, Lo,” Patton’s voice was sterner than he intended.

“You know very well that I couldn’t keep everyone hidden from Thomas forever,” Janus grew visibly uncomfortable at the talk of the past.

“Yes, but this time Thomas consciously chose to repress him-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake did you forget his name or some shit?! Why are you so afraid to say it?! Virgil is gone. Maybe dead. None of us have been suppressed like this and none of us know if Virgil’s somewhere in Thomas’ mind or not, maybe it is him.”

“Maybe you’re just holding onto a fantasy of getting your best friend back when he wasn’t that for a long time before he disappeared!”

“I...what did you just say?”

Patton stumbled over his words, “I-I’m sorry, I just-”

“Get fucked! I don’t want your fucking half-assed apology!”

Reopening an old wound can sting.

Especially reopening it so quickly.

“I don’t want to fucking hear it.”

“Remus-”

Roman called out too late, as Remus was already out the kitchen, the coffee pot shattered on the ground.

And the silence covered them like a big blanket, the slam of the door distant in the quiet. They just sat there for a few seconds, or minutes, or maybe an hour, no one was really sure. Until Patton broke the silence.

“God, I messed up. I always mess up.”

Surprisingly, the second one who spoke was Logan, “Everyone deals with the stages of grief in their own way and for how long they need. It’s okay to not always be okay,” huh, what a hypocrite.

- - -

No one mentioned it again, but it was always on everyone’s minds when Logan’s glasses went missing, or Janus’ cane, or anything else from any other side. Or when Thomas got more anxious than he should be.

Or when he had his first panic attack in years.

They all did their best to calm him down, but no one could replace Virgil in their department. Sure, Janus is good with self-care, but that’s more to prevent a panic attack and what to do after a panic attack. Patton can’t think, he spirals just like Thomas. The twins only supply more “what if what if what if what if” scenarios. Logan still can’t do emotions.

After that, they all knew something was wrong. That Something always lingered in the mindscape and made everything seem...off. Like when Remus moved all furniture a few inches to the left and everyone crashed into it without knowing why. Except this wasn’t Remus and it wasn’t just a dumb prank.

No one wanted to say it, so no one would say it.

It was all just like it was in the beginning.

- - -

Roman was tired. He hasn’t slept in two days and has an art block and everything is horrible. But it’s been worse, he can get through this. Not like he has much of a choice.

The hallways are dark and the floor is cold and he almost trips on a dirty shirt on the floor that he’s probably gonna scold Remus about.

Just one more cup of coffee.

He’s been pushing it to three days.

One more day then I’ll stop.

Everything is dark so it’s puzzling - to say at least - to see light coming from the kitchen. Just faint, barely illuminating the walls.

Is Patton awake again? Or Remus?

No, no, Remus is in bed you know that you share a room.

Roman walked to the kitchen nevertheless. So what’s a little conversation along with coffee, he knows the side won’t ask him about why he’s awake because he will, in turn, ask them and he’s sure they don’t want that.

“Hey, I hope there’s still some coffee left in the-”

The fridge door shook slightly as the figure jumped in surprise and looked at him.

The rest of the sentence got stuck in his throat and forced down into his gut where a sick feeling was building up, but he doesn’t want to vomit.

It’s eerily similar to their first meeting. At night, Roman going for a midnight snack while he...He, just looks through the fridge. And then Roman scares him. And they stare at each other.

Will he throw in some insulting comment and grab something to eat before walking away like the first time?

No, no, this is not the first meeting all over again you don’t hate Him He doesn’t hate you but you shouldn’t be meeting in the first place He’s dead He’s been dead for almost 3 years why is He standing here what-

“Oops,” He put his hands next to his head like he’s getting arrested, “got caught in the act.”

This wasn’t the same voice He had. It was laced with venom and anger and there was nothing about it that said We’ve been friends for years and you accepted me and we are on good terms.

“Might as well tell me then, Princey,” the nickname souned bitter and harsh and sharp on his tongue and Roman wanted to throw up. He put his hands in the pockets of his dirty patched up (there seemed to be more patches than the normal fabric, much like how even though this was Him it didn’t feel like Him or act like Him and he wasn’t even sure if he was talking to Him anymore) hoodie, hiding his bitten nails with chipped patches of fabric on them.

“What did I miss?”

#long post #lmao sorry if there are any typos i cant type #i hope this is what you imagined! and if not that it's good!#ask #sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #implied roceit

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imagine-that-one-thing · 6 years

Text

Styles Towers. || 18

Authors Note: With the Book coming to an end, I feel it is necessary to take a moment to write a proper authors Note. So here I go. This book started off as a ten chapter CEO fanfic that I had no intentions of attaching too or writing to this extent. On 08 DEC 2016, I posted the first chapter and I had no damn clue that just over a year later I would have turned that 10 chapter idea into two books- 39 chapters. I don't know how or why I got so attached to these two characters, I still have no idea how I came up with half the ideas that I did. This writing has gotten me through another year, it has gotten me through some hard times and some freaking amazing times. In a non-cliche way, this novel became my safe haven and now that it is over, I am not quite sure what to do with myself. I didn't think it would be this hard to finish this, and I don't mean to sound dramatic but this is quite literally a piece of me. This became my heart and soul, it is my little baby I have cherished and grown and it is now leaving the nest, in a sense. Maybe one day I will open this book back up, make some edits and maybe even continue it fully somehow into the rest of their lives, but until then, all I have left are the small blurbs about these characters I post to Tumblr. I hope you guys have relished the journey of these characters and have enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it. Thank you to everyone that has read this and to those who have waited through the dry periods of me not posting for a few weeks and suddenly posting. Thank you for being patient and understanding. And a special thank you to my mutuals that have helped me edit chapters and allowed me to bounce ideas off of them at an ungodly hour. I am so sorry for the 3 am messages, but I promise it was well worth it. :') Thanks again, all the love - N :) Xx (There will be an Epilogue).

Master List

What a wonderful world.

February 14th, 2022.

Belatedly, Harry and I have managed to obtain common ground— after he was released from the Hospital right before Christmas— we came to a union: Harry keeps the business on the condition his hours are limited, there are no more secrets or skeletons in the closet and he takes the time to listen when I try to help him, (more so when it comes to him overworking and ruining himself) and will adjust his schedule when the baby arrives.

To say the least, we have been amply great the weeks leading up to today; Harry has been cooperating with physical therapy, he has his moments where he struggles with everything. There are some nights he doesn’t sleep because of the constant repressed memories that eat him alive from his childhood and leading up to now. There have been times we have had to leave restaurants or certain places because the crowds or certain sounds trigger him. Sometimes I have woken him from nightmares that have left him drenched in sweat and with ragged breaths. Although he has his bad days, he also has his good where the caring, loving man I fell in love with makes an appearance. As for business, Harry is discovering how to draw a line between work and business and most of all he is transforming back to the man I used to know. As for me, well, my only significant job has been to continue growing our child, Harry's words, not mine, and my job has been to help and support Harry through all this. Harry has been hesitant about enabling me to put in hours at work but hasn't had much of a choice than to just bite his tongue and get over it.

It turns out I am just like Harry; I have to always be doing something. I can't sit down and watch Netflix for too long— I go stir crazy— I guess Harry rubbed off on me.

I feel the sheets of the bed shift effortlessly and my lips curve into a smile— Harry’s awake. I observe his body warmth inching closer before his lips caress to the side of my cheek, “good morning, darling.” His voice is delicate and sweet before he settles back to his side of the bed and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Good morning, what time is it?”

“It’s time for me to get up and get dressed.” … “How long have you been awake?”

I cock my head to my right shoulder and look at Harry, “jus’ woke up.”

Harry chuckles modestly to himself before he props himself up on his side with a slight wince, “Sweetheart, I know that is a lie.”

“Just an hour, do you need me today?”

“Always need ya,” Harry responds before he leans closer and kisses me gently before he, once again, removes his lips and shifts in the bed to launch himself to his feet.

I shift my own position and relax my back on the headrest, watching as Harry shuffles his way to the wardrobe and clasps his hand to the doorknob. “I meant at work. Any CAO duties that need taking care of?”

Harry overlooks my question and draws out a button up and his suit pants, “I have a meeting at eight and nine and we have one at eleven and then I am just doing paperwork, I was thinking we could go out for dinner?”

“Oh, so you remember what today is?” I challenge.

“Today is Monday.”

I raise a brow but I decide to disregard the fact he appears to have forgotten today is Valentine's day, I can’t really blame him, we agreed not to go overboard with Valentine's Day, mainly it was my idea when I was having quite the mood swing.

Harry and I waste no time with getting ready and hurrying around the house for last minute things.

“Elise, come on, we’re going to be late,” Harry’s voice echoes the hallways.

“Give me a minute, damn.”

“You’ve had thirty, let’s go,” Harry mutters, hurrying me out the door and grabbing my coat for me, being too impatient to wait another minute.

“Why are you pissy this morning? You were fine in bed.”

Harry sighs as he presses the button to unlock his car, “jus’ stressed and my fucking wound hurts like a bitch–ignore me being a prick.”

“I had planned too,” I respond, wandering to the passenger seat of the car as he mutters something under his breath.

***

“What’s wrong?” Harry questions as his eyes are focused on the road, his left hand clutching his coffee. “I can see you from the corner of my eye,” he informs me, shifting to glance at me for a brief moment before he’s back to the road.

“I don’t really know.”

“You don’t know what’s wrong and why you’re squirming in your seat like a child who can’t keep still?” Harry questions, taking a sip of his coffee before setting it back down in the cup holder.

“I’m nauseous.”

“That’s fucking great, just when we have an important meeting,” he murmurs, not being sympathetic in the slightest way, “do you need me to take you back home?”

“No, but thank you for being incredibly sweet.” I sneeringly respond, leaning my head against the window as the car comes to a stop, early morning traffic coming to a standstill.

I overhear him groan before I sense his hand press against my thigh, without much thought, I brush it away from me, “Elle, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Is it the coffee? Do you want me to throw it out?” He offers, keeping his voice pleasant and patient.

“No.”

“Don’t be mad.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit irritated that you act like I’m a burden to you. ‘That’s fucking great’” I mimic his voice, glaring over at him as he laments.

“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

“Just drive, Harry. You have an important meeting to get to."

"Are we going to argue about this?" Harry challenges, leaning back and closing eyes for a moment.

We aren't going anywhere for a while in this traffic.

"We wouldn't need to argue if you weren't an arse. Good to know you still haven't learned your lesson," I grumble, hitting a nerve with him as I perceive his scintillating, loam-grey eyes sear into me as I lean back against the window.

"Oh, no. Don't try to pull that card," he shakes his head, "I put my life on the damn line and regret that night, trust me, I learned a fucking lesson."

"Clearly."

"Did you just wake up and decide you aspired to be pissy? For fuck's sake Elise, what is your bloody problem?"

"You just dismissed me as a burden because WE have an important business meeting. Again, I am second and your business is first."

He operates his fingers through his curls that are just starting to curl at the ends and he takes a deep breath, "should have gone with Logan, dammit," he grunts and I glare at him before I swat his chest, a groan escaping his lips. "I deserved that," Harry acknowledges with a dainty grin, "damn you have a hard hit, taught you well."

"Harry-" I roll my eyes, bothered with my husband that despite being an arse, I love more than anything. Nearly losing him twice almost destroyed me, and I know he doesn't mean it when he utters things similar to, 'I should have gone with Logan.' I know that it is part of his coping mechanism but it dawns on me every day that fate was on our side twice and granted him enough strength to be waking up beside me every morning.

He takes a breath, "I'm sorry but in my defence-" He clears his throat as I narrow my eyes at him and raise a brow, "fuck... I am sorry, I love you more than anything, I am an arse," he shrugs, "but I still love you and you still love me and that is all that matters."

"Smooth, real smooth."

"I know," he winks, "care to give me a kiss?"

"Not really, still upset with you."

"Oh, come on, darling, just a small kiss... I'm sorry, don't leave me hanging," he purses his lips for a kiss, leaning over to me with his hand on the steering wheel and his foot still on the break.

I sigh and giggle, unable to resist his charming enchanting, clay-grey eyes with his pursing lips. I kiss his lips lightly, "I love you," I mumble against his lips.

He pulls away and looks towards the traffic, "we're going to be here a while, this is why I hate not using my driver."

"And why didn't you use him this morning?"

Harry shrugs, "for some reason I felt like driving, I now regret it. How are you feeling?"

"The same, are you ready for the meetings?" I question, starting a very long conversation with him over his meetings to keep us occupied while stuck in the traffic.

*** ***

The moment we step into Styles Headquarters, Niall is there pacing up and down the waiting area of the elevators. I am surprised he hasn't worn the flooring thin, between him and Harry, I am not sure who is worse with pacing various domains of this building. He flicks his head towards us the second he overhears my shoes sounding against the marble floor. "Niall, mate, you look like you're about to have kittens, what's goin' on?" Harry questions as he stands behind me, his hands drawing my coat off my shoulders and down my arms before folding it over his arm and enveloping his other arm around me and stepping beside me.

"Business or personal first?"

"Business," Harry responds as I look up to see the elevator numbers descending.

"Anastasia is upstairs."

"Well yes, I would assume so considering she didn't call out and this is her work place, Niall." Harry comments as we step into the elevator and Niall follows before pressing the button to the floor we need to go to.

"Yeah, but I forgot what today is and I don't have anything planned, didn't even get flowers."

"Seems like someone else I know," I mutter, gently nudging Harry, reminding him that he seems to have forgotten that today is Valentine's Day.

Harry ignores my comment and my nudge as he looks towards Niall, "well, you're shit out of luck, ain't yeh mate?"

"I was hoping you would have some advice like you always do when I fuck up."

"Try and find reservations to a nice restaurant, if that doesn't work, cook something at home and do something romantic." ... "After our meetings or during lunch, go out and buy some bloody roses or whatever flowers she fancies, add some chocolate or wine, or buy her diamonds, every lady loves diamonds, but don't forget that this isn't about what you buy her, it is about loving each other... and no, I am not just saying that because Elise is right here listening to me," Harry informs Niall just as the elevator doors open.

"Niall, bring her lunch with flowers that way if you can't think of anything romantic for later, you at least tried with lunch," I pipe in before I step out in front of the two men and the two of them talk amongst themselves while I stride to my office. I push open my door and suddenly, I am the arse of the morning. My eyes scan my office that has multiple bouquets of roses adorned around it. My lips curve up into a smile as I shuffle closer and breathe in the scent of the roses.

"Didn't think I would really forget, did yeh?" Harry's voice distracts me and I turn on my heel to face him while he wanders closer to me.

"Kinda," I nod, "thank you for being sweet."

"You're welcome," he wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer to him, his hands falling to the small of my back, "I love you. I don't say this a lot but I am so thankful for yeh, you're the best thing to happen to me, you're my safe haven. I love you more than I am capable of expressing, no amount of roses, diamonds or any gift expresses how much I love you. Promise me one thing?"

"What's that?" I softly ask, caressing my hands to his chest, my fingertips welcoming the delicate silk of his shirt.

"Never leave me, love yeh too much."

"I promise, you kinda tied me down," I wink, holding up my left hand, "this ring kinda promises that, darling." I show him my engagement ring and wedding band. "If I haven't left after seven years of dating and nearly a year of marriage, I think I'm good," I assure Harry, leaning up and kissing him gently.

"Mhm, good. I have to get to my first meeting," he mumbles between kisses and his stubble rubs against my lips.

I press my hand to rub against his dark stubble, "you need to shave,"

He laughs, "I would have this morning, but someone, not naming any names, took too long in the bathroom getting ready."

"Hey," I benevolently press my lips against his, "it takes time to look like this."

"Sweetheart, you're beautiful either way. I will talk to you later."

"Mhm, go kick ass in the meeting."

He winks, "I plan to," Harry chuckles before he unwraps his arms from me and proceeds his way out of my office, leaving me solely with my roses and the collection of work he has for me.

*** ***

Niall wanders into my office with that adoring smile of his and bright nautical-blue eyes. “You don’t look cheery,” he instantly comments, “who’s ass am I kicking? And if it’s Harry’s, I can’t do it.” Niall snickers and I shake my head at him, lifting my head off of the palm of my hand and straightening my posture.

“What’s up, Niall? What do I owe this visit? Bring me flowers?” I joke.

“Ah, very funny... Think you have enough," he gestures towards my array of roses, "Ye' husband out here making me look like a slacker... Anyway, James fucked up on his work and I was wondering if you could fix it?” He grants me that friendly smile of his he uses when he wants me to do something.

I heavily sigh and screw up my nose, not fond of the thought of doing extra work, “Why can’t Harry fix it?”

“Eh… he’s in a shitty mood, I feel bad Fo’ James because it’s his second day and doesn’t need pissy Harry in his case.”

I nod, agreeing with him, “he’s just in pain, send me the work and I will fix it.”

“Ah, that explains why he has been pacing.”

“Yeah, he can’t sit for long if he’s sore. The bloody wound is bothering him and we all get to suffer with him.” … “may his father rot in prison.” I murmur, having no remorse for the fact Harry’s father will never witness the light of day again.

“Hm, so now I know what’s up with him. What’s wrong with you? If you don’t wanna tell me, fine. But Anastasia is about to come in here and bug you because she said you’ve been in here quietly all morning.”

I sigh heavily and shrug, “I don’t feel well at all.”

“And you’re still here because?” He challenges crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes in the same manner Harry does.

To a certain extent, they’re precisely alike, it’s uncanny.

“I’m sick of being at home. I’ve spent the last two months mainly at home with Harry. I loathe being home alone and bored out of my mind.” … “I have work to do. If I don’t get it done the CEO will make everyone work overtime until everything is finished.”

“I’m sure he will understand.”

“Yeah, he will understand… that’s part of the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Harry and I overheard one of the men say Harry gives me special treatment.”

Niall laughs and I stare at him, confused as to what he finds amusing. “That’s a load of bullshit, he’s much kinder to all the women then what he is the men. He’s a pushover with the ladies. That guy is just a twit, probably going to get fired soon.”

“He’s entitled to have his own opinion, Niall.”

“Yeh, the wrong opinion, Elise.” Niall shakes his head, “go tell your husband you’re going home, C'mon, no need for you to sit ‘ere and slave away.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Whatever ye’ say, darlin’. I have a meeting to prepare for, hope you get to feelin’ better.” Niall responds with his gregarious personality and galactic smile before exiting my office, leaving me alone with my back aches, nausea and the mass of work that needs to be completed.

I profoundly sigh as I stare at the time, ten-fifteen in the morning. I tense and let out a breath, the dull pain in my back turning into a lot more than a dull pain. The pain eases up after a few moments and I breathe gradually, attempting to relax.

Harry steps into my office, “hey, Elle, Mr.Bass is here, we have ten minutes.” Harry informs me while his hands adjust his tie.

“Do you think you can do the meeting without me?”

Harry shakes his head, “it’s going to look like I am giving you special treatment. I don’t want to be at this meeting either.”

“Ha–“ I’m cut off before I can justify my reasoning for requiring to skip the meeting.

“Elle, the meeting is in ten.” Harry alters his tone of voice and becomes stern, his fulgent, smaragdine-green eyes narrowing down on me. “Don’t forget to bring those files.” Harry gestures towards the documents on my desk that are in precise order and are required for this godforsaken meeting that evidently nobody wants to attend.

Harry turns on his heel and makes his way towards the door. “Arse,” I murmur, leaning back in my chair.

“Heard that, babe.” Harry’s voice chimes and I shrug.

“You were meant to,” I respond with quite the bitchy tone of my voice.

Harry swivels on his heel to glance over at me, “I’m still the CEO, technically your boss.” Harry points out.

Deep down I know he means nothing by it, he gets pissy and tense before certain meetings– not to mention, he may be the CEO but we are still equals in this, in fact, I own 51% of the company, settling me that tiny bit over the edge of Harry. Which also means, when it comes down to influential voting within the business, I technically get the overall say.

Interesting, huh?

I give him a sarcastic smile, “my boss is an arse.” … “don’t forget that 1% leverage I have. You know, the one you insisted on me having to prove a point that the business was ours and not just yours?”

He rolls his eyes, “I am aware,” Harry grumbles lamentably, “my wife is testing my patients as a CEO.”

“My husband is just being an outright arse today.”

“Eh,” Harry shrugs, “would you like to use that1% to rule in your favour of not attending the meeting, Mrs.Styles?”

I can sense the cynicism in his voice and I can sense his lambent eyes streaming with that certainty and cockiness they inhabit when he has a cocky sneer brewing. “Fuck you.”

“Not now, darling. I have an important meeting. See ya in seven minutes,” he winks cheekily and I roll my eyes at him and release a heavy sigh.

I stand from my chair, “Harry?” … “can I have my husband for a minute and not the CEO?” I question, watching as he nods his head and steps closer to the desk.

“I can do my best.”

“Can you rub my lower back, please? I know you can’t give me special treatment but for two minutes don’t be the pissy CEO.” I semi-beg, requiring a warm hand to caress to my lower back and knead it for a few moments, anything to help the discomfort that keeps rippling through it every so often.

He doesn’t think twice before his right hand is clasped to my shoulder and his left hand is massaging soothing circles in the small of my back, “where does it hurt, sweetheart?”

“Right there.” … “owe,” I whine softly, not wanting to come off too much as a needy pest who doesn’t want to be here.

He draws his hand away and leans over my shoulder to kiss my cheek, “there you go. Your loving husband now needs to go back to being a CEO, so… are you ready for that meeting because your ten minutes is up.”

“You’re like a dog with a bone. Relentless.” I roll my eyes, clasping the data on my desk before I’m facing Harry.

“I love you, after this meeting, you can go home.”

“Why, thank you, boss.” I cheekily wink at him.

“I love you, too, Harry.” Harry attempts to mimic my voice, causing me to chuckle for what feels like the first time this morning since he left for the meeting at seven-fifteen.

“I’m not allowed to tell my boss I love him, isn’t that against the code of conduct?”

He rolls his eyes at me, “well, you never listen to rules anyway.”

“Mhm. I love you, though. But you need to tone it down on being an asshole.” I inform him as we walk out of my office and into the main area.

*** ***

“Good afternoon and welcome. I am Harry Styles and I am the CEO of Styles & Co.” Harry introduces himself to Mr. Bass, the current prominent client Harry needs, and Mr. Bass's team.

"This morning, my team will take you through all aspects of our business. With us today is Elise CAO and president, and Niall Horan, executive vice president, Chief of finance and administration and treasurer. Also here today is Charles Taylor, our director of corporate planning." Harry introduces us to the others and I am compelled to fake a loving smile yet also a firm business appearance.

This is Charles’ first time sitting in on a meeting. Harry thought it was time to permit the man do his job. After the incident with their father and the whole announcement of fuckery, Charles was put through, Harry was the one to reach out and encourage Charles.

On the agreement Charles keeps up to date with therapy sessions and administers a squeaky clean reputation, Charles gets to operate at Styles & Co to get back on his feet before venturing out and attempting to start his own business, with the help of Harry.

Their father shredded Charles entirely of the business he had started, all his assets and earnings. Their father almost stripped him of his soon to be wife.

In a way, this is Harry making up for the lost time with Logan and fixing what has been broken. Charles Taylor is now under the wing of Harry and today Charles is receiving a taste of the influential world of his brother.

As for their Father, well, he pleaded guilty to all counts he was convicted of. Since he offered his guilty plea, any reduction attributable to the plea was applied to the sentence he received. He was charged with a Level one attempted murder charge under the SECTION 224 CRIMINAL JUSTICE ACT 2003. He was sentenced to an indeterminate sentence, which means the parole board (formally referred to as the Board of Parole Hearings) determines when an he is eligible for release. He has 25 years to life. The “25" is the determinate; "life" is the indeterminate sentence. Once he serves his minimum of 25 years, he is eligible for parole but it does not mean it will be determined that he is ready to "re-enter" society without posing an unnecessary public safety risk. With the charges against him on Charles behalf, the chances of the father being released by the board are slim to none. By the time his minimum sentencing is up, he will be seventy-eight years old and to be quite honest, I think justice will be served to him and he won't live for another twenty-five years. Incarceration lowers the lifespan expectancy… to be quite honest, he should already be six feet under and buried instead of Logan.

Niall gets the slide up on the presentation screen before he is handed the reins to present. “I would like to draw your attention to the fact that this presentation does contain forward-looking statements and actual results may differ as a result of many factors, some of which are noted on this slide.” Niall gestures towards the screen as Harry takes his seat beside me, subtly taking my hand under the table.

It's something that isn't unusual, most of the times I have to sit in on the meetings, he grasps my hand. It is a bit of a sweet gesture on his behalf. For me, it is pleasing to know that he is there. On the rare occasions that I do manage to fuck up, he always manages to step in at the right time and back me up. Sometimes just a simple squeeze of his hand calms my nerves.

I glance down at the file in front of me containing Mr. Bass’s business funds, mentally rolling my eyes at the fact he is making this meeting longer than what it requires to be. It is either a yes or no on whether he is going to do business with Styles & Co.

Personally, I would have pulled out by now, mainly because he doesn’t appear like a man that is interested in doing business with Harry, I think he is just wasting our time, but Harry has a better understanding of all this than what I do.

The performance summary of Mr. Bass is fair, from what I gather of the documents in front of me. But I of all people know that past performances should not be seen as a reliable indicator of future results.

As of 31 December 2021:

Equity — 33.1% — £1,324,492.70

Bonds — 50.5% — £2,021,986.10

Property— 3.9% — £156,214.00

Hedge Funds —2.5% — £100,778.78

Liquidity Funds— 7.0% — £279,522.06

Cash— 3.1% — £123,913.25

I say his file is decent, essentially because even at our companies worst and downfall, our performance summary was much higher as a whole. Individually, Harry’s performance summary was also much greater than what I see. Then again, in the year before the downfall, 2020, Styles & Co was posting 23 billion pounds in revenue and 2.3 billion pounds in profit.

I clear my throat subtly, curling my toes in my shoes while pain travels through my back, impelling its way towards my stomach. I glance over at the watch on my wrist: Just twenty minutes since the last spring of agony. I follow the time, attempting to take deep, subtle breaths while monitoring how long the pain lasts. Thirty-five seconds, that is how long it lasts, although it seems more like ten fucking minutes.

I squeeze his hand once, twice, three times, our signal that indicates we need to stop what we are doing and leave. It has been our signal for as long as we have been together, something we have applied a few times.

I glance over at him and he shakes his head, for the first time ever, neglecting our signal.

I attempt again and this time he lets go of my hand.

If I could scream at him and strangle him right now, I would. I know he needs this client to get on board with his proposal, but I require him to pay attention because either our child is going to make its grand appearance today or something is wrong.

*** ***

I managed to get through the meeting, only mentally hitting Harry in the balls every time I felt pain.

The meeting didn’t go as outlined, Mr. Bass didn’t propose to sign the contract with Harry, I even tried to coax him and work my magic when I wasn’t having cramps.

“Now that the meeting is over, can I speak?” I wearily sigh as Harry launches a portfolio to the middle of the table.

“What do you want Elise?” He’s pissed.

I know. I get it.

He just lost out on a half a million dollar deal, but this is just another example of where he needs to draw a line between business and me.

His phone vibrates against the table and he wastes no time with clasping it with his hands, dismissing me for a moment.

“Mr. Bass, how may I help you?” Harry greets cheerily and I roll my eyes at his change of mood and tone. “I understand your concerns, as my wife pointed out, we can alter the stipulations and concerns… If we could find a way to deal with your objections, would you sign the contract on Thursday the 17th?” Harry questions and there’s a pause for a moment.

I let out a breath as I shift uncomfortably in the chair, “Hold on one second while I look at my schedule, Mrs.Styles agreed that the 17th also isn’t a good date.” I roll my eyes at the fact Harry is lying through his teeth and playing this man very well. Harry desires this deal and will go along with whatever the man says without sounding like a pushover who is desperate for the man's signature on the dotted line. “The 27th?” Harry glances towards me and I shake my head.

He needs to have the deal closed by the 25th.

“How about the 24th?” Harry proposes, biting his lip as he taps his foot.

I can only assume the man is going to put up an immeasurable belligerence against the dates. He’s not shallow, I am sure he is knowledgeable that Harry needs the signature by a certain date and is going to do his best to get the best out of Harry. “Taking all of your requirements and desires into consideration, I think my two specialised teams would work best for you. The sooner we get this underway, the better it is for you in the long run.” Harry’s not budging on advancing the man any more incentives to sign on our schedule.

I let out a breath and wince, a piercing pain making itself known, but Harry’s too busy attempting to persuade his client to sign the damn contract. “Yes, of course. We are considering specific data procedures to help deepen our understanding.” His enchanting, clay-grey eyes catch mine and he studies me warily while listening to Mr. Bass. “I completely understand your notion.”

My hand presses to the edge of the desk and I squeeze it in an attempt to divert the pain away, my knuckles turning white. “I assure you my team can handle that.” He swivels on his chair before he leans over and takes my hand, his eyes darting around, perhaps in an attempt to figure out what’s going on. “Absolutely, so how does the 24th sound?” Harry screws his nose up and I can only assume he was rejected again for the specific date.

It’s when I squeeze his hand and let out a moan while bowing my head that he becomes more alert, “are you okay?” He mouths and it takes everything in me not to lie.

I want to tell him I am, I do. But let’s face it. I’m not. And I haven’t been okay.

I shake my head and gulp, clutching his hand as my only outlet, a heavy groan of pain escaping my lips. “Mr. Bass, I will have to reschedule, I need to go.” He’s blunt and somewhat unprofessional with how he dismisses the call.

I’m quite astounded.

He puts his phone down, “what’s going on? And don’t try lie, I saw your grimace.”

I clear my throat, “I’m having contractions.”

“Like Braxton Hicks?”

“No.” I shake my head, “Actual contractions.” … “I’m pretty sure it’s time. They’re fifteen minutes apart and getting worse.”

“You’re kidding, right?” … “you still have two weeks.”

I glare over at him and blink at him for a moment, “fuck, you’re serious?”

His eyes grow wide and he springs to his feet quicker than I can blink. “Let’s get you out of here. How long? Has your water broken?” He challenges, helping me up swiftly.

“Since about five this morning. I thought it was just the usual aches and pains.”

“For fuck's sake, and you’re just now saying something? It’s bloody one.”

I shrug, “they weren’t this bad. When was I meant to say something? You cut me off when I tried to tell you before the meeting that I wanted to go home.” … “and I didn’t want to interrupt halfway through the meeting… you kinda ignored our signal.”

“Christ,” Harry murmurs, “I’m such an arse, I’m sorry.” … “Niall!! Get your fuckin’ ass here!” Harry shouts as we reach the door.

Niall looks over from Anastasia’s desk with a startled expression before he’s in front of us. “Anastasia,” Harry calls over in a gentler tone, “get my car keys from my office and bring my car to the front, please, hurry.” … “Niall walk with me,” Harry instructs as his arm is securely around me and we wander further down the office. “You’re in charge while I’m gone. Don’t take any bullshit from anyone, move my meeting at three to next week. Make sure to call Mr. Bass and tell him I am sorry I ended the call abruptly but my wife is in labour. While you’re at it, see if you can get him to stop being such a prick and to just sign the damn contract before the 25th.”

Niall nods and takes everything that Harry says as we reach the elevator that multiple people are waiting on.

The doors to the elevator open and I groan as I perceive it full off staff and people from the meeting that was held on another floor with the people who work for me. “Everyone out,” Harry instructs and Niall quite literally ushers everyone out.

“Don’t you think that was rude?” I softly challenge as Niall taps the button for the ground floor.

“Do you think I care?” Harry questions and I can’t help but chuckle to myself, “how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay right now, I have about seven more minutes before another contraction hits.”

***

By the time we step out the front of Styles’ Towers, Anastasia is standing by Harry’s car, his keys dangling in her hands with a wide smile pressed to her lips. She opens the passenger door for me and wastes no time comforting me with her sweet words of encouragement and enthusiasm. Harry takes the keys from Anastasia and politely thanks her while he assists me into the car. “You two have everything under control, right?” He turns to them both and they nod, assuring him they are fine.

There’s no doubt in my mind that they don’t have this under control— they pretty much were the backbone to the business when Harry was in hospital both times and I was the one doing his job. They coaxed me through everything and Niall took everything on his shoulders to help out the best he could. He’s a great business partner and to be honest, he should be the one who owns the business with Harry, not me. But, in all of this, Niall does get a hefty sum of finances, about 2 million pounds worth of finances.

I’m certain Niall and Anastasia along with the rest of the staff can keep things under control for a day or two.

The moment Harry gets in the car he inhales and exhales a few deep breaths, having a bit of a moment to process the current events. I can only imagine his thoughts are racing and he’s internally freaking out, if this is true labour, he’s going to be a father in a few hours— I know that worries him still. It probably always will.

He turns the key in the ignition and grasps my hand. I give him a little squeeze, waiting for him to stare at me before I give him a tender smile, assuring him that it will all be okay. He grins softly and swiftly leans over and kisses my cheek before turns his focus to the road and begins to pull out of the parking space.

“I’m really sorry for being an arse today, I shouldn’t have made you go to the meeting, I should have listened.” … “do you forgive me? I promise I’m working on being a better husband and not putting work first, it’s hard to transition sometimes and–“ Harry rambles on, and although it is incredibly thoughtful and adorable to overhear him ramble on with an apology and be entirely sincere about calling himself an arse, I’m not in the mood to have him grovel.

“Harry… it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“H, I know you’re sorry, but please for the love of God quit grovelling and drive because this contraction is fucking long.”

“Okay, okay, I’m doing my best, just relax,” Harry mutters, his eyes darken and focused on the road.

“Telling me to relax doesn’t help, Harry.”

“Baby, I don’t know what to tell you,” Harry breathes out, “squeeze my hand if you need to. Breathe, remember to breathe. There we go… talk to me to keep your mind off the pain.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything, love. Tell me about… uh— fuck, you tell me everything so I don’t know what you can tell me… oh, talk to me about that book you were reading… you were meant to tell me about it but last night but I fell asleep. Tell me now. I want all the details.” …

I chuckle, remembering that he did fall asleep on me last night when I was meant to tell him about the book because he was genuinely interested. “Before I tell you about the book, Happy Valentine’s Day, I am sorry if you had special plans or a reservation, I know you usually do a dinner for me and—”

“Hey, don’t apologise. This is more important. I’d rather meet our baby than worry about dinner,” Harry chuckles, “Happy Valentine’s Day, you’re giving me quite the gift of love here.” …

*** ***

Eight Hours have passed since I was admitted and I wish I could say it has been a lovely experience that they all rave about online and in the bloody books. No, it has been eight hours of back pain and swearing.

By now, I have called Harry every single name under the sun, and somehow he hasn’t snapped once. Not once. He has taken it like a man.

He has been exceptional the last eight hours though, tending to my every need, getting me ice chips, adjusting the lighting in the room, massaging my back and helping me walk around the room to help ease the contractions. He has been more help than I thought he would be. I honestly thought he’d crack under pressure and freak the fuck out. But, he has stayed calm this whole time and done everything possible to make me comfortable.

As a forty-five-second contraction comes to an end and I release Harry’s hand from my own, I cock my head to the side to glance at him, “I’m scared, H,”

“I know, me too,” he responds, “me too, darling.”

“No… I can’t do this... I’m not ready…”

“Hey,” he whispers, shifting a few strands of hair away from my face, “I have never once heard you say you can’t do something, believe me, if either of us can do this, it is you. You are ready. There’s nothing you can’t do. Fucking convinced you’re not human at this point. You have constantly blown my mind over the years with all you can do.”

I shake my head, “I’m not, I need more time, Harry I need time.”

“Sweetheart, don’t freak out on me, you’re the strong level headed one, you have this under control. I promise you’re ready, you’re doing a fucking amazing job, you have done an amazing job ‘til now, you’ve got this, you’re a fucking badass.”

I chuckle at his comment as I continue to take deep breaths, well aware that it is only a few more minutes before another contraction hits.

If you had of told me three years ago that I would be married to Harry and having his child, I would have laughed my ass off, essentially because, as stated several times before, Harry wasn’t really the marrying type. And when I say this, I mean it in a good way. He always said he didn’t want to get married until he was one-hundred percent ready; I didn’t expect him to pop the question out of the blue when we had talked so little about marriage. When it comes to children, I have always had an inkling he didn’t want to have children and I understand his theory and reasons for it now that he has opened up about his Father.

It’s funny how things change and how they shape so swiftly. When we had the scare while he was on a business trip, I anticipated him to react the way he did and shut down but also handle things well. What I didn’t expect was for him to have this glimmer in his enrapturing, loam-grey eyes when he spoke about kids. It was a bittersweet moment when I told him it was a false positive, mainly because we weren’t ready for a family and because it made me realise there was something that sparked in him that deep down he wanted a family. Then, when I found out was pregnant, I can’t deny the fact that I had a breakdown and had to promptly compose myself while Addalyn stared at me. I think I was the one who had the initial ‘holy mother of God’ moment. When I told Harry the news, I expected him to act out in a little bit, but he didn’t— he was happy, genuinely happy.

Either way, right now, I don’t feel like I am ready. I am not sure we are entirely ready. Sure, we have the nursery set up; we have blankets galore— our child will never go cold— we have more baby clothes than the baby really requires and more teddy bears and stuffed animals than we know what to do with, (thanks to Harry). Harry became delicate and sweet, an entire 180 from the CEO mentality. He bought our baby teddy bears and soft toys because he remembers always discovering comfort in teddybears while growing up. I never asked for too much detail, I gathered that they were his safe haven and what gave him a sense of home. Instead of asking about it all, I just let him buy stuffed toys until his heart was content.

Despite having the nursery ready and feeling as though I have been ready. I am not. Not even close.

Another rippling contraction takes harbour in my body and for a split moment, I wish it was him going through this and not me. "Fuck you for doing this to me," I mutter through my teeth.

"I love you, just a few more seconds, you’ve got this.. atta girl." … “about twenty more seconds, darling.” … “breathe, Elle.”

“That’s not helping,” I groan just as the delivery nurse strolls in with a smile.

She wouldn’t be smiling if she was in my position.

The moment I get the news that it’s finally time to push, I think my world stops.

I don’t think I can mentally or physically do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.

Harry grabs my hand and leans closer, “Hey, I can see you’re freaking out right now, I know, believe me, I’m scared too. You’re doing wonderfully. I know you’re in pain, I know you hate me right now, but in a few moments, it’ll all be worth it. I’ve never known you to give up when the going gets tough…. you’re going to make a kick-ass mum… look at me, Elle… I promise you can do this. I’m right here beside you, you’re going great.” Of all the speeches he has given me in the last eight hours, I think this one is the one that I’ve liked the most. “Put me to shame and show me how much of a strong, incredible woman you are.” He smiles, squeezing my hand gently.

He reaches over and grasps a wet washcloth and touches it to my forehead, “I have one hell of an amazing wife who’s about to be one hell of an amazing mother. I’m so proud of you, just a little more, Elle,” He’s swift to encourage me through a contraction.

*** ***

The CEO doesn’t cry on many occasions whether happy or sad, I’m the one that is more in touch with my emotional side, but waking up to see the man of my dreams with a beautiful little boy swaddled in his arms and tears down his face is something I’ll never forget. Nor will I forget his tears that I saw at twelve past ten P.M. When the nurse announced the time of arrival and soft, beautiful cries filled the room.

My eyes open as I hear the one voice that is quite literally music to my ears. I smile to myself as I hear him humming a melody that I know is familiar. Something that I remember used to be sung to me when I was little by my Dad.

“I see trees of green, red roses too,” Harry softly begins to sing, his voice brightening the room with his beautiful tone. Every rare moment I hear him sing, it makes my heart. “I see them bloom for me and you. And I think to myself what a wonderful world.” His voice is soothing, calming and the most wonderful thing I can ever hear. His voice is like spring. It is like waking up one morning to gaze out and observe the world as a wayfarer-blue sky. Heavenly, divine and captivating in every way. Spring skies are extraordinary and brilliant, and just like his voice, they're a continuum of blessings and happiness that salves both spirit and soul. His voice is like when you gaze out into a charming flourishing meadow on an early morning and your eyes catch the squillions of glint-silver dewdrops that are dampened in the meadow, the way they catch the sunrays displays them flawlessly. And just like that, Harry's voice is of that a squillions glint-silver dewdrops that shine radiantly when noticed on unique occurrences. “I see skies of blue and clouds of white. The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night. And I think to myself what a wonderful world.” … “I see skies of blue and clouds of white. The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night. And I think to myself what a wonderful world.”

I keep quiet while listening to Harry sing, unaware that I am awake and can hear him. “The colours of the rainbow so pretty in the sky. Are also on the faces of people going by. I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do. They're really saying I love you.” Hearing him sing the lyrics send shivers down my back and I mean that in the most loving way— when I couldn’t sleep at night when I was much younger, my Dad would tuck me in with my favourite stuffed teddy bear and blanket, he’d get in my little bed and softly sing the song to me.

“I hear babies crying, I watch them grow. They'll learn much more than I'll never know. And I think to myself what a wonderful world.”

“Yes, I think to myself what a wonderful world,” I join in on the last line, catching Harry by surprise as he glances over at me with his grey eyes that are a-glow with love and he flashes me an amiable smile while a few tears cascade down his cheeks.

“Hey,” Harry croaks as he wastes no time with shuffling closer to me.

“Hi,” I grin up at him, reaching my shaky hand up to his face where I wipe away a few of his tears. “Did I interrupt a moment?” I softly challenge as I gaze into his eyes and perceive nothing but pure love.

Harry shakes his head, “you like the song?”

I nod, “My Dad used to sing it to me”

“Really?” He seems surprised, “My Mum used to sing it to me.”

“That’s funny how fate works,” I chuckle, amazed by how both our parents used to sing us the same song.

Harry nods in agreement, “How are you feeling?”

“Pretty damn sore and tired, but good,” I smile.

“Here, let me help you up,” he whispers, delicately helping me to sit up while he cradles our little bundle of joy. “I didn’t get to tell you right after he was born, but you did a wonderful job, Elle. I’m so proud of you, I’m in awe of what you’ve done.” He leans down and caresses a gentle kiss on my forehead, “Wanna say Hi?” He grins, not waiting for me to respond before placing the newborn in my arms.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I beam down at our creation— my pride and joy. “I’m sorry I fell asleep before properly giving you a cuddle, I am sure Daddy made up for it… he’s really good with cuddles. We need to give you a name.” I glance towards Harry and he can’t help but just stellarly smile.

down at me.

“Thomas? You said you liked Tommy.” Harry asks but I shake my head. Harry is right from our last discussion we had about names, Tommy doesn’t suit our son as well as I had hoped. I know this just by looking down at the little boy.

“Alexander. Alex for short. He doesn’t look like a Tommy.”

“Alexander Logan Styles.” Harry nods his head with a bright smile and scintillating, loam-grey eyes. “it’s lovely.”

“Mhm, we did well, H.”

“Sweetheart, you did all the hard work, all credit to you,” Harry leans down and kisses my lips sweetly.

“Eh, you get some credit,” I wink with a bit of a chuckle. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Not long, jus’ an hour or so.”

“Oh… anyone held him?”

He shakes his head, “no, didn’t want anyone to until you had a proper cuddle.” He beams down at me, “I’m so proud of you, Elise… I am so in love with you, I didn’t think I could fall any further in love with you until tonight. I just– I ’m thrilled you’ve made me a Dad. I never thought this moment would fill me with such joy in the way it has, my heart feels full and heavy in the most astounding way possible. And I have you to thank. You’re my light at the end of a gloomy tunnel and I have so much love and gratitude for you that I can’t physically manifest and explain... I love you more than life itself and I will continue to love you until my last day on earth, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see what the rest of our lives has to offer us, darling. All three of us…”

I grin up at the man that has come a long way since I first met him years ago. He has become a man of his word, an honourable, loving man that has learned that life is a long-drawn journey. He has had his ups and downs, we both have, and we’ve both been forced to have a push and pull force with each other. He pushes me to constantly work my ass off and be the person I can be, and I pull him back when he’s drifting too far away. I keep him grounded and steady to the best of my ability.

We both have our balancing acts with each other.

We fit flawlessly together like two souls that were always made for one.

A little less than a year ago, I walked to my future, to the rest of my life, and it has been the best rest of my life I could ask for.

He has shown me unconditional love and support, has held me at my weakest and stood by me at my strongest. Harry has done nothing but encourage me throughout the years and I hope I have done the same for him. I took him as the grey-eyed man that swept me off my feet at the age of 21. I love him for who he is and what I know of him; I love Harry for everything he does, for the way he holds me and the way he put others first. I vowed to give him my deepest love and affection, to honour him, and to uplift him when the going gets tough. I vowed to be faithful, to give him my fullest devotion, and my tenderest care through the pressures of the present and the uncertainties of the future. I promised to stand by his side and respect each and every decision he makes for himself and for us. I stand by him as his wife, his best friend, and his number one fan. I vowed to love him, through sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer.

We said forever and forever it’ll be. I want to be with him until we are grey and old; I intend to love him until my world comes to an end, — Oh, but what a wonderful world it will be.

— This is our kind of meant to be; this is our story, our happily ever after—

The End.

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