Coalesce

THIRTEEN

The first snow of winter falls on November twenty-third. It's a Saturday so the boys are all home, the entire outside world whitened by a blanket of thick snow, the sky equally bright. The view from the house is incredible, but Louis and Zayn decide that it's not the same as being out in it.

So, they force the boys up and out of bed, make sure they're all bundled up, and unleash them into the fields surround the house. Of course, Harry is more than happy to go out in it, practically dragging everyone else out of the door, catapulting himself into the fluffy ankle-deep coldness with a grin that stretches from ear to ear.

Liam, meanwhile, grumbles about it being cold for all of five minutes, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jacket and hunching his shoulders up to his ears with a tired glare permanently embedded in his features — before he gives up the teenaged act and ends up with Harry on his back, spinning him around and around and then throwing him in a pile of soft snow when the kid yells that he'll throw up on him if he doesn't stop.

Niall traipses off to the side slightly for a while, keeping his arms wrapped firmly around himself, teeth chattering a little until Harry throws a snowball at him and the ensuing snowball fight warms him and the rest of them up.

By this point, the fields are full of childish laughter and Louis loves that sound more than he loves any other; it's something he hadn't realised he was missing out on, having a whole herd of kids. Niall has always been enough for him, always will be enough for him, but seeing the kid run around with the boys that are practically his siblings at this point...well, it makes him wish he'd met Zayn and his boys sooner. Of course, that wouldn't have been possible before Anna's death and it doesn't feel right to think that way; all he can do is be glad that they're all here now, in this moment.

He hooks his arm through Zayn's and rests his head on his shoulder, the two of them just as wrapped up as the boys are in layers of jumpers and jackets and scarves, hands gloved and ears warmed by the rolled hem of a wooden hat each. The air is below freezing, his fingers numb already in a way that makes him dread to think how the kids' hands are faring.

Zayn rests his cheek on top of his head and smiles. "Love seeing them like this," he says softly.

Louis agrees with a small hum. "Me too. Wish we could just capture this moment forever and play it back when things are bad."

Because it really is a wonderful sight; a beautiful winter day with the backdrop of something that matches a postcard, their three boys working together to build a huge snowman. Of course, Harry is the one doing all the ordering around, assigning jobs to the older boys; Liam of course arguing back and throwing a snowball at the younger before begrudgingly doing as the nine year old says; Niall taking careful measures to space out the stone-buttons of the snowman's middle precisely, tongue poking out in concentration just like it always has since he was little.

Louis smiles. "I love those boys with everything in me."

"So do I," Zayn murmurs, words bursting with warmth that could melt every inch of snow on the ground and in the air around them. "Even when Liam's being a little shit and complaining about everything, and when Niall ignores us telling him to get his ass to bed every night, and when Harry doesn't shut up for five minutes after I've been working all day. If they were anyone else's kids, I'd avoid them at all costs," he jokes, making Louis snort.

"Yeah, me too. Good thing they're ours," he says.

Zayn lets out a breath and nods. "Ours," he repeats quietly. "I probably say this too much, but I really fucking love you too."

Louis grins at that, heart fluttering in his chest just as it had on their first ever date all that time ago. "And I love you too, even when you're being a soppy idiot or staying in your office all day and snapping at me when I try to make you eat or sleep," he retorts, poking the man in the ribs.