dysfunction ➳ l.s ✔

24. Final

Three Years Later.

"You look great, dad." Harry grinned toothily at Zayn who was finishing the last adjustments to his bow-tie.  Zayn turned to his son, who was now sixteen and taller than him.

"So do you, Harry. Louis is going to love you," Zayn shrugged, "You know, more than he already does, that boy." He shakes his head fondly. It'd been three years since he had warmed up to the blue-eyed fellow and Harry was so grateful. He had almost been jealous, in the end, at how well Louis and Zayn had gotten along. They were so compatible that Harry wouldn't believe they ever had issues, if he hadn't been there to see them. More times than once, Zayn had been caught checking the scores of Louis' college footie games. 

Louis was an active participant too, though. What with all the collaborative surprise dates for Harry and the Christmas parties they'd scheduled behind the curly one's back. Harry couldn't stand them together, couldn't stand how much they loved each other as much as they loved him. He smiled at his father, recalling each memory.

"I love him too," Harry couldn't contain the dimply smile that played on his face. "Us, both." Zayn nodded, tapping Harry's cheek a bit with the palm of his hand. 

"Don't forget about me, lads." an Irish accent bellowed from the doorway. Harry felt a dizzy wave of deja vu at Niall's words. He recalled the night he'd spent in the hospital with Niall appearing at just the right second. He loved him for that, eternally. Harry tackled the blonde into a hug, their suits wrinkling at the force. Cackles and toothy kisses, they truly were teens. 

"You're here early!" Harry sounded surprised. Fair enough, he'd grown accustomed to Niall's flakiness ever since he'd begun going steady with Liam. "Missed ya," Harry whispered the last bit truthfully. He'd hardly seen Niall all summer and he was almost dying without his best friend to share some laughs with. 

"Course I am," Niall straightened his tie. "What kind of best man would I be if I missed the groom's preparation." 

Harry rolled his eyes, glancing at Zayn who was smiling at his phone. "Shut up, Niall. I'm the best man. And you," Harry pointed accusingly at his step-dad. "Get off your bloody phone, Perrie's waiting."

"You'd think Zayn was the bride, walking down the aisle with this timing." Niall cracked up, mocking Zayn's need to look perfect even at the age of thirty-nine. The three walked out of their dressing room to wait the alter while the guests beginning to be seated. It was a small ceremony. A white wedding, set in a green garden on the far side of a country club in Manchester.  They'd wanted something simple for their I do's so that the reception could be as loud and reckless as possible. Hey, Zayn may be old but he still knew how to have fun. Not to mention the money they'd saved for their honeymoon in Dubai. 

 "I'm so happy for you, dad." Harry whispered in Zayn's ear as they made their way to the front. Zayn looked like the happiest man on earth. It was unbelievable, really. 

Harry smiled, looking out into the seats of loved ones around him, there to support the happy couple. He only recognized about half of the guests on Perrie's side but he felt chills when he found a pair of blue eyes in the front row. 

He kept his hands at his side but made sure to stick out his thumb, gesturing to it with his eyes. Louis caught it, casually rubbing the spot under his eyes with his own thumb. They'd taken a class at uni together a summer before, British sign language. The act of holding their fists together, thumbs up and out meant beau. It was perfect.