corporate affairs [Niall Horan AU]

T H I R T E E N

T H I R T E E N

His hair had gotten longer. It's greasy and unkempt, but somehow attractive. The hint of a moustache speckles his upper lip, and a few wrinkles around his eyes have begun to trace themselves against his eyes. Other than that, he is the same as ever, calm and collected with just a hint of cool chaos at the edges. 

"Hi, Elouise," he coughs, as if the words had been rooted at the base of his throat for a while and had been hard to get out. "It's been a while."

I want to reply, but a hundred sleepless nights of heartbreak weigh down on the tip of my tongue and push my words back down into my stomach. 

The limousine door beside him opens and two balding men step out, fond smiles on their aging faces. Despite my annoyance and anger, my heart heats a little at the sight of my uncle and Harry's father, best friends, even still. 

"Elouise," my uncle says with a wry smile, a cigar nestled between his two fingers. "Come here, sweetheart." I cross the invisible line past Harry, careful not to glance in his direction. My uncle meets me with the same, warm hug I'd grown accustomed to. He smells like cigars and aftershave, which is comforting as I nestle my head against his hearty chest, inhaling deeply. At once, a wave of calm flows over me. "You didn't tell me you were getting married." He inquires in a deep voice, raising his busy eyebrows at me expectantly. 

"Well, I didn't know, really." I lie, pressing my lips together and smiling meekly. 

"Gosh Steve, we haven't seen the kids in a year and you're already interrogating them. C'mere Elouise."

"Uncle Des," I cry happily, propelling myself from my biological uncle's arms and into my "adoptive" uncle's arms. Desmond has always been a hearty man, one of the best huggers in the world. He wraps his long arms around my back and I snuggle into the comfort of his arms. He smells faintly of Harry, and I release him before I can think about that familiar smell too long. 

"You're more beautiful than the last time I saw you," Uncle Des says with a proud smile. "And successful, too. Personal assistant to Niall Horan, how'd you land that job?" I giggle at his light teasing, ever appreciative of his efforts to distract everyone from the ring on my left finger. 

"Well, I'm starved. Could we all talk at lunch? Zayn, El, you're the experts, what's good around here?"  Uncle Steve asks as he picks up my bag and hands it to the limo driver before opening the door for Zayn and motioning for him to head inside. 

I pile in after Zayn, sitting on the couch across from him with an angry glare in my eyes. 

"You can't be mad at me forever, Elouise." He whispers as Harry shuffles down beside him, his green eyes locked on my face as soon as he sits. 

"Yes, I can." I hiss back, crossing my legs and pulling out my iPhone. There's one text from Calinda asking about the pros and cons of having gardenias in her bouquet. I text Maura (who's surprisingly tech-savvy and also a great florist) Calinda's question before sending Katherine a quick, 'I miss you ):'. Right now, I'm even missing Niall.

My Uncle Steve and Uncle Desmond squeeze me between the two of them as the chauffer starts the limo and pulls out of JFK in a quick, elegant style. 

"Well, where we eating?" Uncle Steve asks after a beat of uncomfortable quietness. My uncle, though caring and loving, is a direct, simple-minded man. Food, me, business. Those were his priorities, and he'd do anything to secure them. 

"Elouise, any suggestions?" Zayn asks, a hint of a smile on his lips. 

"Yeah, there's this new restaurant, it's called Screw You Zayn Malik." Uncle Des and Harry chuckle while my Uncle Steve splutters, quick to reprimand me under his breath. I narrow my eyes at Harry. "They have a another restaurant called Kiss My Ass Harry Styles. Same owner. Different street."