for angels to fly | lwt + hes.

Epilogue

Epilogue

It was the day before Christmas, and Harry Styles was genuinely concerned for his mental health. He’d never been the type of person who cared very much about what he looked like. He knew how to present himself and he knew what looked good and what didn’t but he had honestly never reallycared very much. 

At least not until the knowledge hit him that meeting the family of the most incredible person he’d ever known was actually a really fucking big deal.

‘Mate,’ Liam said, rolling his eyes at where Harry had been sitting in a pile of clothes in front of the closet for at least half an hour, ‘Just wear whatever you want. It doesn’t really matter.’

It had just gone half ten in the morning, and Harry had nothing to wear. When Louis had whispered into his ear the week before about visiting his family for Christmas, he hadn’t even considered the option of declining the invitation. It was partly because he knew that Louis would just continue to irritate him about it every chance he got until he agreed, but mostly because he had known that it would make Louis’ blue eyes light up and he would smile at Harry like he was the second coming of Christ, for whatever reason.

‘Aren’t there specific dress codes for this sort of thing? Shouldn’t there be, like, a standard outfit for impressing your boyfriend’s family and convincing them that you don’t live out of a suitcase?’ Harry muttered irritably, pulling a polo shirt towards him, holding it up to his chest and then tossing it over his shoulder. ‘This is ridiculous.’

‘Yeah, it is. Louis’ going to get here and laugh his ass off at you, you do know that, right?’ Niall spoke up from where he was sitting, cross-legged on the bed to one side of the room. Harry threw a glare at him and Niall smirked. ‘It doesn’t matter what you wear. He’s still going to make truly disgusting heart eyes at you.’

‘I’m not worried about what Lou thinks, god, I’m thinking about his mother. And his sisters. Oh god,’ Harry moaned, ‘They’re going to hate me.’

Liam rolled his eyes. ‘They’re not going to hate you.’

‘I have never interacted with children in my life!’ Harry exclaimed, gesturing wildly with his hands. ‘What are you even supposed to talk to little girls about?’

There was a beat of silence as Niall and Liam seemed to truly ponder his question.

‘Like… fairies and stuff?’ 

Harry tossed another glare over his shoulder. ‘That’s very helpful, Niall, thank you.’

‘Look,’ Liam sighed before Niall could reply, walking over from his spot in the doorway and picking up the polo shirt Harry had discarded. ‘Just put this on, and I’ll let you borrow my jeans. Also get a jumper its fucking freezing.’

Harry frowned as he took the shirt from him and pulled it over his head but it had turned into a smile by the end of the sentence. ‘Thanks, mum.’

Liam rolled his eyes but a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. ‘Are you packed?’ 

Harry nodded and gestured to a large black bag sitting by the doorway.  He had had some severe trouble closing the thing, but he’d gotten there in the end. 

‘How long are you going for, a month?’ Niall exclaimed incredulously. 

‘Just for the weekend,’ Harry answered him, a defensive note in his voice as he unearthed Liam’s jeans from the pile of clothes sitting on the floor and pulled them on. 

‘Fuck, mate, you’re a bit over prepared.’

Harry chose to ignore him, tugging on his shoes and standing up in one smooth movement. He made to move to the living room, grabbing his bag on the way, and the other two boys followed him. Niall sprawled on one of the bean bags that had made their way mysteriously into the flat during the past couple of months and Harry elected to stand, glaring at the offending pieces of ‘furniture’.