Art | Harry Styles

16

'I'm on the porch now, thank you so so so much again xx'

The smile which should be on his face at this very moment is absent, but he still feels a small pang of relief that at least she'll be having the Christmas she deserves. 

'Merry Christmas.' He taps a reply into his phone, glancing up as he finally passes into Arrivals.

"Harry!" His name is called in an instant, and he shoves his phone into the pocket, discarding his case at his side as two familiar faces come thundering towards him, his arms opening wide to welcome his two favourite people on the planet into them.

"Mum, Gem," he breathes in relief, sandwiched between the two of them and feeling the weight of the past twenty four hours lift from his shoulders as all is momentarily forgotten in the sanctuary his family's presence provides.

"Oh, Harry, darling - I've missed you so, so much," his mum quickly breaks down into sobs, as Gemma slips from Harry's grip and both of his arms move to wind around his crying mother.

"I know, Mum," he mumbles, "missed you too. M'here now, yeah?"

"Mum, you promised you wouldn't cry," Gemma pleads, but there's a smile on her lips that won't falter simply due to her brother's presence. He's home, finally.

"I lied," Anne mumbles into the shoulder of her son, squeezing him tightly, finally releasing him to pinch his cheeks, "oh, you look so grown up! How was the flight? You look awfully tired - that coat, is it new? Oh, it's lovely, I-"

"Mum I - Mum," he wrinkles his nose, screwing his face up a little, "Too many questions. But m'very tired, and the flight was very long. New coat - ish. I'm really just ready to go home," he says honestly, as Anne finally releases him properly and he turns to look at Gemma. "You dyed this?"

"Only a bit." His sister's brown hair has some lighter highlights amongst the waves, and he reaches over to ruffle it, "like it?"

"Makes you look paler."

"Oh, how I missed you, darling big brother," she grins sarcastically, sticking out her tongue as he reaches for his suitcase and grabbing it, as they make their way out of the airport, and his mother begins to ramble about a shepherd's pie she's made for his arrival.

It's late afternoon, still, for Sophie, and the house is empty. Skylar is at practice, her mother is getting in some last minute shopping. She's alone - moping. Not that she has reason to, as she continues to remind herself - she rejected him.

A thousand different scenarios are playing over, and over in her head. What would've happened if she hadn't put a stop to it all, or what else could've happened, even if she had. The pencil strokes over the paper in a devastatingly satisfying motion, but her upset is seeping through. She's drawing him, again. But this time the look on his face when she'd told him 'no'. The image replays in her mind, of his face falling in disappointment. The way his eyebrows had furrowed, and his eyes had softened in sadness, as his lips parted slightly in surprise and his shoulders had tensed. The way he'd quickly tried to hide it, his eyebrows arching and eyes squinting, lips pursing in self-accusation. He hadn't wanted to hear an explanation. And she could understand why.

A knock sounds at the front door, and she frowns. If her mother was arriving home, she'd simply use her key and walk in. Unless she'd forgotten it. Sophie glances at the bowl where the keys are tossed into upon arrival - empty, apart from her own.

She opens the door, eyes widening from the very moment the visitor is revealed. A familiar head of blue hair and a piercing set of blue eyes come into view, a wide grin she's known since childhood right in front of her eyes.