pyrite (harry styles) [completed]

twenty nine.

Christmas 2013

"Elvis. No question. No debate." Harry exclaims, gesturing at the record player. "Listen to this! It's the definition of Christmas music."

"But 'This Gift' is about proposing during Christmas! What is not to love?" I cry out louder. "The answer is nothing! There's nothing not to love! And you especially should love it, as being in a boy band is your livelihood!"

I'm turning up the volume on my phone and trying to drown out Elvis Presley's "Blue Christmas" oozing out of the record player with 98 Degrees "This Gift" in our lively debate of the best Christmas song of all time.

"You're both mad. It's obviously Bing Crosby," Gemma pipes in as she strolls into the living room. "Now, do either of you want to come out, or are you going to continue to act like senior citizens on holiday?"

I glance at Harry across the table, then down at our riveting game of Scrabble and our mugs of hot chocolate, then at the flickering fire and the record player currently playing his favorite Christmas album, and we both give each other a nod before replying in unison.

"Act like senior citizens."

"Alright, don't say I never tried to make you stop being hermits," she shrugs, before grabbing her bag and heading back out of the room.

We both laugh when she leaves. And I'm pretty sure she's on to us. I've been going to bed in the guest room and sneaking into Harry's childhood room when I think the coast is clear, and it's been hard to keep things discreet in his cozy childhood home.

But she hasn't said a word, and we're not about to out ourselves, so I'm just actively trying to not be as cuddly as we typically are when on our own.

Which is difficult.

Especially when he's all bundled up in sweaters and coats with a red nose from the cold. 

We resume our music battle once we hear Gemma head out, and I place my tiles down and make 30 points.

"He's the king, and they were like a third tier boy band in their era. I can't even believe we're having this debate."

"This song is an instant classic! And it's unique! It's going to stand the test of time!" I insist, as it comes to a close. "That whole album is excellent. One Direction could never put out such quality Christmas music."

He shakes his head, his eyes rolling up in exasperation. "You're ridiculous."

"You're losing!" I exclaim with glee, as I tally my latest points into my score. "It's a Christmas Eve-Eve-Eve miracle!"

That miracle doesn't last long, because in three more turns he's back on top, but the miracle of my most perfect Christmas is lasting and we're still three days shy of Christmas.

We arrived in Cheshire a few days ago, and it's been the most blissful Christmas I can ever remember, despite not being at home or with my own family. It felt like we'd left the Kendall business back far away in America, and the only emotion coursing through our veins was pure happiness.

Anne took us in and kept us well fed and Harry and I had delightfully decorated the tree and gone for walks in the snow and sat still for hours of Christmas movie marathons. And I learned that Harry loves absolutely everything about Christmas, and has passionate opinions about all forms of Christmas entertainment.

"What about N'Sync Christmas?" I hedge, as he stands up to change the record.

"Fairly classic," Harry relents, as he cues up one we both can agree on, The Carpenters, and then sits back down to play his final move.