The family man

Chapter 6

HEY YALL

HEY YALL

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HOLMES CHAPEL - HORAN-STYLES HOME

Harry steps inside the house he despises so much. Gosh, the house has this weird mixture of smells he could not put his hands on. It stinks and in dire need of some sage cleansing. He looks at the living room, a mess of Christmas wrappers and candy scattered on the tattered carpet by the Christmas tree. Harry sighs, he is just way too tired to care about this shit right now.

He drags his feet up the stairs, sighing as he felt something gooey on his fingers. He sees the door of his bedroom from across the hall. A picture of him and Niall hand-in-hand smiling widely at the camera, and the words Daddies on the bottom.

Weird.

It was like seeing something he had no collection of.

Harry rests on the edge of the bed, letting the exhausting builds on him. He was tired. He'd drove more than eight hours since the beginning of this nightmare, and all he wants to do now is rest. Niall enters the room shortly after, holding a phone to his ear. He looked at him in a fury.

"One moment."

Harry stares at him, he's decently dressed now, nothing fancy but dang he's still a looker.

"You stopped dying your hair."

A curious look from Niall. "Yeah. Ten years ago."

Niall stands in the corner of the room, looking at Harry, his face completely blank, giving away nothing. "Are you okay? You wanna talk about it?"

Harry took a breath. "Yeah. I'm fine. Really."

He gives him a resolute nod, then continues on the phone conversation.

Harry grimaces as Niall angrily hangs up the phone then glares him down. He remembers the fight he used to have with Niall. Niall was smaller than him, but hey, he packed a mean punch. Don't be fooled by that angelic face and bright smile. That was Harry's first mistake.

"Are you completely insane, Harry? Do you have any idea what you put us through today? You walked out of here at 7:30 in the morning, didn't tell me where you're going, or bring your phone, and I don't see you till hours later. I was on the phone with the police for Jesus' sake!"

Harry watches him vent, the frustration on his face building. He hadn't been told off like this since forever. He hates the feeling of wanting to scream  back but feeling absolutely powerless to do so.

"Why would you leave your family on Christmas morning without a word about where you're going?"

Harry grits his teeth and clamps his hands together in frustration. Harry is almost at the brink of bursting.

"Who does that?"

"I don't know! Please stop yelling at me! Fuck," spits Harry venomously. "Jesus, shut up."

Niall stares at him, deadpan. He crosses his arms tightly against his chest.

"Where were you?"

Harry sighs, "I was in the city."

"The city? What city? The town council?"

"London," says Harry meekly, embarrassed. "Because that's where I'm meant to be."

Niall scoffs, "Harry, don't you start."