I'm kinda in college. Just kinda lol.
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epilogue two. i'd love it if we made it.
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When Louis married Zayn, we were all perplexed because neither myself nor Harry knew the two had kept in contact after my belated birthday party more than several years ago.
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It doesn't happen from the simultaneous voices and octaves of people screaming, 'happy belated surprise!'
My eyes scan an enormous crowd of people I have knowledge of to practical strangers, but my eyes lock on three characters I never wanted myself encountering ever again: Liam, Zayn, and Harry; the three musketeers. It erupts a mixture of anger and apprehension until my eyes land on Louis, it clears all of those feelings up immediately.
My stomach rumbles from either excitement or hunger or maybe both. And I run to enclose Louis into tight arms ...
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But here we were, receiving word from a lavender colored invitation with both their names on it with an upcoming save the date for the future, almost several months from the now. And what the fuck? Who even knew they'd try to date again when we were teenagers for what feels like forever ago?
Harry, looking just as confused as me, asks, "You know anything about this?"
I shake my head. "No," I admit. "I talk to Louis just about everyday. What the fuck?"
"What the fuck, indeed," Harry says. Then he's laughing and the sound instantaneously causes my lips to curve up responsively. And I'm laughing alongside him. "It doesn't surprise me in the slightest, babe. A lot of things are meant to be. Signed, —"
"— sealed, delivered,"
"And I'm yours," he finishes (the song lyric, actually) as I blow him a kiss he doesn't hesitate to catch, subconsciously, respectively.
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It isn't until the next day I receive a call from one of my best friends, Louis. I could hear the smile in his voice when he properly asks me to be his best man. And part of me would live and bathe in this excitement simultaneous to his but I couldn't help the confusion and the incredibility of this news; of this.
"I'm honored," I admit through the speaker. "However, when did this begin? When did either of you propose? And why didn't you tell me anything about it — from when it began?"
Unfazed, Louis answers, quickly at that, "You were there from the beginning Niall; since we were teens. You were there when we were younger and more stupid, and now you get to see us to the end. When someone stands before us, declare us man and man; husband and husband. I want you to — I need you to see this to the end. To forever."
And with a heavy breath, heavy heart, emotions and all. I think of our teenage years and everything I've witnessed, have gotten the privilege to witness with Louis and Zayn as a couple. I was always there to hear about the happy times, the sad times, that one time Zayn cheated on Louis with someone who, on Louis's worst day, doesn't amount to him. I have witnessed it all.
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Then Louis's voice is as quiet as a rodents movement around a home when he speaks. But I hear him and I sigh when he says, "Zayn cheated on me." Unconfident like the Louis I've never encountered before, all the same I nod understandingly. "With Liam."
"I know," I say just as quietly. "I'm sorry that happened to you. You don't deserve that." It's the honest truth. As pure as Louis's heart.
Louis whimpers again as he pouts down at me, I see him from the corners of my eyes. "What a slag," he says, scoffs judgementally. "That bloody Liam."
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"I wouldn't want it any other way," I confess to my friend. "I'd be honored to be your best man, and I'll amount to all of the task and bitch fits I'll have to tolerate that come along with the position. Thank you, Lou."
"No," he says responsively. "Thank you. For everything."
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After I obtained my degree in Psychology (with thorough dedication, perseverance, and determination), Louis and Zayn's event followed no more later. With I as Louis's best man and Harry as Zayn's. There were so many rehearsals myself and Harry had to fly out and attend — because Louis resides in the city, still, a little past Greenwich Village with the other known fashion designers who don't live on Park Avenue somewhere — in New York City.
Then a month before the wedding Harry and I stayed those four weeks. In Louis's condominium, living off of takeout because no one was really fond of cooking, and going through proper wedding arrangements and plans — Zayn and Harry. I and Louis. We couldn't really converse together. It's bad luck or something. One day during Louis's suit fitting we engaged in a meaningful conversation:
Louis was looking in the mirror for his final fitting. The grey suit looked well on him, with the turquoise bow tie to top off the look, proper and fit enough for the ceremony in the next several days. Then he turned to me with a conniving and smug look upon his face. "When's your ceremony?" he asks me.
Absentmindedly, "It was a few months ago. Proper degree in Psychology, you know that."
He rolls his eyes. "Not your bloody graduation, Niall. We talk on the phone everyday you'd really think I'd forget that?" Louis leaves me no time to answer — I know he wouldn't forget, but I subconsciously assumed he was asking that. "Your wedding ceremony. You and Harry have been living together for several years. Have been in a relationship for more than several years—"
"Five," I tell him.
"Exactly."
"Uh—" and I'm scratching my head. I don't know; Harry and I haven't discussed marriage. We're actually quite comfortable where we are right now. I'm happy to come home, most times, to Harry and fall asleep in his arms. He's my home, marriage or not. "This week is about you and Zayn. Have you decided on last names?"
Louis smiled cunningly again. "Don't try to change the subject, Niall," he points at me and tuts playfully. "It is my week but I promise you — I swear to you we will discuss this right after I say I do." Louis pauses briefly in thought. "Louis Tomlinson–Malik. I have a brand to maintain," he teases, but in honesty he does.
"I like it," I say happy Louis complied to the subject change. Still, I couldn't help but think about the next step in Harry and I's relationship.
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The wedding was beautiful. The vows were beautiful. Intimate family members and close friends attended, shedded happy and positive tears, and blessed Louis and Zayn's relationship before sitting and attending the lovely reception overlooking Sheep Meadow in New York City.
I sit beside Harry as he stuffs his face with cake. He's never seemed to care about that modeling body image thing unfortunate models are graced with, and I love him so much for not caring about anyone's negative opinions. Always following his own pace and way of things — our way of things. We're comfortable and that's honestly all that matters. I wasn't going to let Louis and I's conversation get to me nor lead me to overthink. When the time is right, we'll jump the broom. We'll get wedded and have our happily ever after.
We wouldn't need to wed to live our happily ever after, too. Titles are just titled but bonds and connections are what makes home feel like home and love arouse at the most beautiful times. And I love Harry — I don't have to propose nor does Harry in order for our love to continuing blooming or for home to feel more "homey". There's no need.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Harry's breath tickles my ear arising automatic chills. I look to his broad smile and shake my head responsively, "Just at how Louis and Zayn have come a long way to live today."
"So have we—" The Beatles's Here, There, and Everywhere plays through Tavern on the Green and a look of nervousness brushes Harry's face briefly causing me to frown questionably at him. Before I can ask what's wrong or if he's okay, he continues. "Let me show you something really quick." And he's taking my hand in his and leading me out of the closed off restaurant, into the cool spring breeze. Right into Central Park —
Right into Strawberry Fields. As of recently, I and Harry have made plans to visit the tourist attraction after taking a liking to John Lennon and his Give Peace a Chance era. Not to mention The Beatles era (and how it's still continuing to this very day). Listening to his solo and group songs throughout the house, in the car, so fondly. We agreed before we'd leave we'd take a look at Strawberry Fields. Maybe play the song and really take in the New York City nature of Central Park. Hopefully see Yoko en route. I never knew how close the venue was to it.
This place felt like home too... so quickly.
And in awe I stare. Singing the song in my head. "Let me take you down 'cause—" and so quickly Harry drops to his knee on cue. My eyes fucking widen. Is he?
He breathes deeply. "John Lennon says, "It's getting hard to be someone but it all works out", and I feel my complete self when I'm with you, like it is all working out. You have always completed me since the day I've met you. And ever since then, you've felt more and more like a safe place; like a home within a person — if that makes fucking sense." And I catch myself laughing as he has an inward battle with himself.
"Harry," I let out a shaky breath. Did Zayn coerce the same conversation out that Louis did with me? "Are you proposing?"
Responsively, Harry stands to his feet, eyes wide. "Is that the impression I gave off?" he asks in a panic. My heart instantly sinks. "I dropped the key to Louis's flat and the tongue of my shoe was irritating my foot. I didn't mean to begin talking and kneel simultaneously — Oh gosh, Niall. I'm sorry; I was just going to tell you I love you."
And with a faux smile hiding the disappointment on my face I shake my head. "No it's okay," I tell him assuringly. "I love you too." And I never questioned it again.
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IMMMBACK. this is unedited but we got a few more epilogues to go. LETS GO. check out dream if you haven't already. It's great. It's being worked on.
also stan harry styles because kiwi walked so watermelon sugar can run. and yes. it makes absolutely no sense, yet. but stan harry styles. niall horan. beautiful baby louis tomlinson. liam payne. and if you want, zayn malik. period.
iabsolutelyloveyouguys. thank you all. for everything. "Do."