The next day, he manages to avoid the conversation he and mum desperately need to have. He showers, shoves down several helpings of breakfast, kisses her on the cheek in thanks, and promises to be back in the evening to receive the shouting-at he’s due.
The first thing he does, walking down into the village in search of his car, is call Niall.
“Harry Styles!” Niall yells into the phone, a touch too loud for the early hour. “My favourite client, are you finally on your way back?”
“I’m your only client,” Harry points out. “And no, that’s actually why I’m calling.”
“I told you not to until you’ve got the papers signed.”
“There’s been a—complication.”
“Let me guess,” Niall sighs. “He doesn’t want to do it.”
Put so simply, it makes Harry feel like an idiot. It would seem that he’s the only one who didn’t anticipate this.
“Well…no,” he replies, only a little sheepishly. “But it’s more complicated than that.”
“More complicated than a vindictive ex who refuses to give you a divorce because he’s bitter that you’ve moved on without him?”
Harry blinks. Who knew Niall understood the intricacies of human romantic relationships, seeing as he’s never been in one.
“So you’ve met him before,” he tries for a joke, and it gets him a reluctant laugh. It’s better than nothing, and actually warms him all the way down to his toes; it’s nice to remember that he’s got someone who knows everything, and is firmly in his corner despite of it.
“Listen, mate, I don’t think there’s any advice I can give you,” says Niall. “As far as I remember, I’ve never been married.”
“Thank God for that,” Harry murmurs, low enough to only just be heard, and this time, Niall’s laugh is loud and bright.
“What I’m trying to say is, just dig your heels in and work on it. You’re not due in the studio until September, so I’m afraid you’ve got plenty of time.”
Harry sighs. Right. He’s still a popstar, in the world outside this dinky village.
He took the break because he needed one, entirely exhausted after two albums and two tours, and he wanted—he’d been hoping to organise the wedding in the meantime. Maybe even get married, in those few days at the end of August that always run hot.
His last wedding was in the spring, and it’s not turned out very well for him. He doesn’t want to repeat his mistakes.
“Can I call you to complain when he leaves me on the doorstep again?”
“He did that?” Niall asks. His voice is suddenly firmer – Harry can imagine him straightening his back and tipping his chin up, ready to fight Louis on Harry’s behalf from thousands of miles away.
“It was fine,” he tries to placate. “I survived. My clothes didn’t, but I’m just on my way to get new ones.”
“Do you want me to make calls?” Niall asks, immediately in business mode.
“No, relax. I’ll just buy some. I’d love if you could extend my car hire, though.”
“Ah, I see how it is. Suddenly you’re not too good for a Fiesta.”
“Piss off,” Harry grins. Grins, and doesn’t stop smiling, walking down the main street in Holmes Chapel, where ghosts lurk around every corner. It feels good. “We’ve been through tough things together, Niall. Adventures.”
YOU ARE READING
Got The Sunshine On My Shoulders || larry stylinson
Fanfiction© hattalove on ao3 Five years ago, Harry Styles left his tiny hometown to make it big as a recording artist. He didn't have much regard for what he left behind - A life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone. Now, Harry h...
