Muse [h.s.]

epilogue iii

🎵what once was — her's
🎵dream, ivory — dream, ivory
🎵right down the line — gafferty
🎵treat people with kindness — harry styles
and for old times sake...
🎵golden — harry styles

Ella's POV
three years later

"Celeste, that isn't nice! You have to share with your little brother!" I call out, watching the three-year-old yank the small, plushed blue dog from her little brother's one-year-old hands.

His bottom lip begins to quiver, and he soon bursts into tears, his bright green eyes screwed shut as he begins to wail and throw his hands around his tiny body.

I immediately rise from my seat, but before I could even get to him, Harry comes into view.

"I got him, you go on and talk to Celeste," he says with a smile, pressing a kiss to my forehead before he rushes over to our son and picks him up in his arms.

"Oh, there's my sweet boy, no more tears with Daddy!" Harry sings out, kissing his little red, tear-stained cheeks.

My heart swells at the sight of my two favorite boys before I turn to Celeste, who's now stood in the corner of the room, her little index finger playing with her bottom lip — a habit she's gotten from her daddy.

"Celeste..." I begin, walking over to her and crouching down to her level. Her big, honey eyes stare up at me, and I reach to tuck her dark curls behind her ears.

I'm almost jealous of just how much our children look so much like Harry; it isn't fair.

Though, I can't complain. I always told myself I wanted our children to look just like him — I got my wish.

"Mad at me, Mommy?" Celeste's small voice asks quietly, and my heart twists at the sound. I stroke her hair back, immediately shaking my head.

"No, honey, not at all," I assure her. "But, you know, it isn't very nice to take things from others without asking nicely, especially yanking them like how you did with your brother. He's still a baby, sweetheart."

"Sorry, Mommy," she says earnestly, reaching out with her hands towards me. I smile as she wraps her little arms around me, engulfing my much larger body with her sweet arms.

She gives the best hugs.

"Any room left here for Daddy?" Harry asks from behind me, and I can hear Celeste begin to giggle as Harry engulfs us all in his arms. I feel a tug from my hair, only to realize it's from my sweet little boy.

Atlas Styles — a year ago Harry and I were blessed with him. We kept up the theme with celestial names, expressing our love for all things moon and stars through our children.

"Sorry, Atlas," Celeste taps her little brother's cheek with her finger, and he gives a toothy smile at her; he adores his big sister.

A sudden familiar tune erupts from outside, a little musical tune I know all too well from when I lived in New York.

"Hey, Cel!" Jax calls out, peeking his head around the corner as he puts down an empty box. "That's the ice cream truck, why don't you come with me and we can get you a cone?"

My sweet girl grins, all dimples just like her daddy, and nods eagerly, jumping up and down. "Okie dokie, Uncle Jax!"

Jax grins back at her, walking into the living room where Lydia and I were seated on the sofa, and extending his arm out. Celeste takes her uncle's hand, and he leads her outside into the heat of the summer.