She | h.s

epilogue

harry styles

v. fourteen months, later.

"Harry," I hear Daisy say as I regain consciousness, peeking one of my eyes open to see that the sun wasn't even out yet. I shut my eyes again tightly, letting out a hum in response.

"Harry," She groans, this time nudging my shoulder and I groan back, eyes still not opening and I roll over to her side of the bed, frowning slightly at the loss of her right next to me. I stretch my arms out, unconsciously pulling the duvet back up to me and let sleep take over.

I hear her footsteps padding through the room, fumbling to arrange things with quick agitated breaths, the sound of that making my lips curl into a smirk before the footsteps stop, and this time she yells.

"Harry!" She says, throwing a balled up t-shirt right to my face. I pick it up and toss it aside, completely unbothered by it and I carry on with my sleep.

"Harry I swear to god—-" She huffs, pacing around the room and I almost have to stop myself from completely just bursting out in a fit of laughter at her agitated state.

"Harry..." She says, sitting at the edge of the bed. I feel the soft duvet dip and realize she's coming closer to me, making me stretch my arm out to her. I needed her close. Always.

"Harry the house is on fire," She says, trying to get me to open my eyes.

"Uh huh," I say, turning over to find a more comfortable position.

She groans at me, laying her back flat down next to me and I smile to myself, turning back to her and slinking my arm over her torso, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of her head.

"Harry I'm pregnant," She says, making me chuckle.

"That's great, let's name her Stevie." I say, pulling her closer to me and she sighs.

"It's triplets, no—- quadruplets, yeah. That's right, we're gonna have four babies. I'm gonna be as big as a house, and you'll have to hold two kids at a time." She says, making me smile.

"That's great baby, we'll have Stevie, Lindsey, Mick, and John." I say, making her groan.

"For god's sake Harry, get up!" She says, springing up from the bed and throwing a pillow at me. It lands on my chest, and I wrap my arms around it, groaning at her.

"Harry! I swear—-"

"I'm up! I'm up!" I say, finally opening my eyes, squinting a bit to let myself adjust to the light. "Jeez, you're cranky today. Are the pregnancy hormones kicking in yet?"

She rolls her eyes at me as I flash her a smirk, stretching my arms out. "Come on, we need to leave. And did you seriously decide that you wanted to name our babies after the members of Fleetwood Mac?" She asks, facing the mirror on top of her dresser as she pierced the metal portion of her earring onto her ear. She does the other side then stands up straight, examining her appearance with a frown.

"Uhm, of course I was. Why, did you want to name them after The Beatles instead?" I ask her, walking over to her and wrapping my arms around her small frame. She laughs, shaking her head.

"You are not naming our hypothetical babies after The Beatles," She rolls her eyes, smiling as I place my chin on her shoulder.

"It's be cute," I shrugged. "Look! Little Ringo, go run off to mummy!" I coo, as if there were an actual child in front of me. She snorts, shaking her head as she looks away.