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Harry made a lot of proclamations in life.
More often than not, he worked towards them to make it come true.
When he was twelve years old, he had proclaimed that he would be a successful architect and then he became one. It wasn’t easy, since drawing didn’t come easy to him but he did it. That didn’t mean his proclamations always worked out (like when he had proclaimed he would grow a beard by the age of twenty two) or bore good results (like when he had said he would dye his hair a fiery pink). But that didn’t stop Harry from making proclamations as a kid, mainly since he knew that once he said it, it became less of a dream and more a part of reality. He had also proclaimed at sixteen that he would fall in love and be married before thirty. Had repeatedly proclaimed it, sending the words to the universe but this thing hadn’t worked out yet.
Harry wouldn’t call himself picky (although his friends would disagree), but he was yet to find the right person. In twenty six years of his life, he had not once fallen in love or considered any of his boyfriends worthy enough to marry. Something was always missing in them, that first spark or whatever. There was attraction, there was attachment but it never grew further than that for him and he immediately broke it off when he felt that disinterest. He wasn’t the type to lead someone on or miss out on finding his soulmate. He gained the reputation of a ‘heartbreaker’ but he never understood why, since no one possibly fell in love that quick. Even though he wanted, craved for love and domesticity, that was the one main thing he lacked in life.
So there Harry was, in a well lit bar across the street and on his third glass of scotch (which was almost empty) that was raised up in the air as he slurred, “I am going to get married by the end of this week.”
He received a few curious looks from drunken, amused strangers and some disgruntled looks from his friends, who desperately wanted him to shut up. Lately, drunken proclamations were Harry’s thing, not that his friends supported him.
“Harry shut up,” Liam grunted as he lowered Harry’s hand. Harry glowered at him before defiantly raising his glass in the air again, making his friend sigh and pinch his nose. “You’re drunk Harry. And you can’t possibly get married by the end of this week.”
“Why not?” Harry asked, stubbornly jutting his chin up. “I’m a great person.”
“Because you’re single, Harry, that's why,” Niall remarked as he plopped down on the opposite side of the booth. He slid a glass across the table and Harry stared at it in confusion. “Drink some water, you’ll feel better.”
“I’m not that drunk,” Harry protested but drank the whole glass of water anyway. It didn’t make much of a difference. He needed some food if he wanted to feel actually better, since he hadn’t eaten anything since five. And that only a granola bar he had had. If it went hungry like this then he was sure he was going to have a bad hangover tomorrow. But he would deal with it then. Currently, he had a more pressing problem and that was his single status. His twenty sixth birthday was in a week and he was getting closer to thirty that twenty now. According to his plan, he was supposed to have a serious boyfriend by now and be planning a future with him as they hyphenated their surnames. He wanted to be cuddled into someone’s side right now, sitting on their couch as they watch a movie and sipped wine. He was desperate to be in a couple like Liam and Niall were. Hence, he wanted to get married. It made total sense in his head. “I want to get married. I want to have a boyfriend and I want to carry his babies.”
“Harry, listen to me,” Liam said in a grave tone as he grabbed Harry’s shoulder and spun him towards him. His big brown eyes were serious, lips pressed into a thin line and Harry sighed. “You don’t really mean that. You’re just saying that because of Johnny.”
“Johnny,” Harry hissed, gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyes. Okay so he did not hate Johnny per se, since he was Harry’s childhood friend but he sure was envious. He was envious of Johnny’s life, which was everything he wanted. “He has the life that I want. He has a beautiful fiancé, who he is happy with. They’re planning a wedding together and they’re also expecting soon. In about six months he’ll be married with a kid and he’s only twenty five, like me. He wasn’t even that intent on getting married when we were kids, but now he’s soon to be married and he’s so lucky. Did I say I want to get married?”
“Your life is great as well Harry, but don’t be such a drama queen,” Niall quipped as he took a gulp from his Guinness. Harry looked at him wryly. He had a steady girlfriend who he had been together with a few months now, but she was absent tonight as well. It was a good thing it was just the three of them, since Harry often found himself to be the fifth wheel whenever they all got together. He didn’t mind being the fifth wheel since the two couples were adorable but it made him resent his pickiness. He wished he would just settle for someone, but then any of his terrible dates reminded him why that was a bad idea. “You’ll find someone soon and get that domestic life you’re dying for. You just need to get out there, out of this bar and go hit some grocery stores or coffee shops you know. It’s the place you’ll find the one you’re looking for, since you’re that soft type. There’s an art gallery opening I’m going to, if you wanna come.”
“I will come, thanks.” He slumped in his seat, letting his head fall onto the table. “But I’m having a quarter life crisis, guys so please indulge me.”
“It’s hard to indulge you when we’ve been this conversation third time this week,” Liam mumbled and scoffed.
“But I need to get married,” Harry moaned once more, telling himself it was the last time he would say that. At least for tonight since the tenth time whining the same thing was just pathetic. But he was desperate. Every one of his friends was coupled up, everywhere he saw there was love. And with Valentine’s Day fast approaching, he didn’t want to spend it alone again. He had enough of eating chocolates alone and sipping wine in the darkness of his room. “I don’t even have many demands. I need someone who loves romantic comedies as much as I do, whose favourite song is Can’t Help Falling In Love and who will make me laugh. He should also be a good person, a scotch lover and a wine enthusiast. That's all.”
“That’s also vague.” Liam shook his head while laughing. “But you need to keep looking.”
“Yeah you can’t expect someone to walk right in through that door and take your breath away and be the perfect husband material.” Niall laughed and Harry lifted his head to give him the stink eye. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not a FRIENDS episode that you say you want to get married and a man in tux will walks in through that door, ready to marry.”
“First of all I’m gay so – holy fucking shit!”
“What’s so surprising about that?”
“Give me a hundred thousand pounds now!” Liam exclaimed as he stared at the entrance of the bar clear in sight. Harry was already staring, eyes bugging out and jaw slack at what he saw. And when Niall turned as well, he swore.
“Holy fucking Rachel it worked!”
Harry could barely hear what Niall said further since his eyes were glued to the door. A woman in a white, bridal dress had walked in with the veil flowing behind her and a tiara perched on her blond hair. She ignored the gawking people as she walked in, lifting the ends of her mermaid skirt and sitting on the barstool gracefully. She looked joyous as she ordered herself a fruity drink and grinned. But she wasn’t that one that had caught Harry’s attention. It was the man beside her, who had his hand resting lightly on her waist to guide her in. He was dressed in a black, fitted tux, hair pushed up in a quiff. He was mumbling quietly to the lady and the half of his face that could be seen was lit up in a smile. He lifted himself on the barstool and sat in a weirdly cute way, with one foot resting on top of the other. He was still a little far away for Harry to see how he looked but the man carried an effortless charm, something that beckoned Harry to him.
“Why does the money thing never work,” Liam mumbled under his breath, startling Harry out of his daze. He blinked at his friend, who was already over the ‘bride in the bar’ thing and was busy on his phone. Probably texting Zayn. A few seconds later Liam smiled widely and it confirmed that it indeed was Zayn he was texting, which good for him.
Niall was still half turned in his seat and gawking at the bride, giving Harry a wide-eyed wonderstruck look. “How did a bride actually walk into the bar? But it’s a shame, since you’re looking for a groom right?”
“I found a groom,” Harry whispered fervently, eyes darting back to the man sitting on the barstool beside her. Niall snapped his head to look behind him again, and Liam looked up in confusion, not having heard properly. “He’s beautiful.”
“I didn’t even notice the guy,” Niall said, frowning. “But yeah he’s handsome, I agree.
“Who do you think it is?” Harry whispered, as he continued to stare at the man. He was laughing with the woman, occasionally touching her arm as they spoke. Harry had watched them interact for five minutes now hence could tell that the two of them were close. In fiction, the bride usually ran along with someone, which meant her lover. So could this be her lover? Harry hoped not because he’d be sad.
“It’s her brother,” Liam said quietly, eyes narrowed as he assessed the two. He turned to Harry and shrugged. “See they have similar faces. They seem related. So they’re most likely siblings.
“Yeah?” Harry could see it now, mainly since now he watched the bride’s face carefully. The two of them had the same button nose, blue eyes and similar arch of their eyebrows. Of course he was her brother, which was very great. Harry felt hopefully sudden, a lot more sober than before but also slightly giddy. He had a chance then, if the bloke was gay of course. This was the one! The universe had listened. “I need to speak to him.”
“Oh no Harry wait.” Liam was frowning as he grabbed Harry’s wrist before he could act on his need to walk up to him. Harry let out a whine and pouted at his friend. “Think about it before, else you’ll make a fool of yourself by speaking utter nonsense. You’ve done that plenty of times, especially when you’re drunk.”
“Not that drunk,” Harry protested and frowned at the empty glass of water. “Besides, I just need one more glass of scotch before we head out okay? I’ll be fine tomorrow, trust me. And I’ll get you one as well, since you need to loosen up.”
“Good luck,” Liam said with a sigh as he let go of him, shaking his head. He thought of himself as the sensible one of the group, which wasn’t wrong really. He was the only one amongst them, who had a clear head at all times, making them feel guilty about their wrong actions and the sort. He thought this was a bad idea but Harry didn’t agree. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the perfect guy would it? He’d just know if he really is that perfect. Harry will turn twenty six in a week so he was perfectly capable of chatting up handsome strangers without getting tongue-tied. So feeling confident about himself, Harry summoned his grace as he slid out of his booth and straightened his shirt. His outfit was something a grandfather would wear, Niall had said earlier, probably due to the plaid trousers. It wasn’t that bad really, since he knew that at least he looked like a hip grandfather with his red trousers. It wasn’t the best thing to grace his body but he hoped the man was into him anyway. He could pull this off though.
Harry felt confident as he walked up to the counter, desperately pushing that one strand of hair off his eyes. He caught their usual bartender Carl’s eyes and requested his regular drink. Then he proceeded to lean against the counter, right beside the man and tried to be not too obvious when he stared at the back of the man’s head. He listened to their animated conversation as he sipped on his drink, keep his eyes fixed on his hands. His plan was to find something in the conversation that he could chime in with and cut out the awkward introductions. But he sort of got lost in the man’s high, raspy voice and the giggles he let out. He had this aura about him, carrying an easy confidence in the way he held himself which intimidated him slightly. Something in Harry’s heart told him that this was the person he was looking for and never had he felt such intense desire for someone. So he kept listening rather than initiate a conversation. They were talking about the music that was played at the wedding, which Harry noted was the suggestion of the groom and critiqued his choices.
“He should have picked the classic songs,” the man was saying, waving his free hand over his head while the other gripped his drink. “ Closer shouldn’t have been a choice, so it’s nice that you didn’t marry him. Tells you everything. At my wedding, I’ll be sure to have a lot of Elvis Presley songs, something that one can slow dance to.”
“Yeah I know Lou,” the bride said, chuckling as he sipped her drink. “You love that one song. It’s the soundtrack to your life and all. Even though it’s ironic you haven’t fallen in love.”
This was his opening, Harry thought. This was where he could add in that the song was his favourite as well and he hadn’t fallen in love. But the moment passed in deliberation, mostly at the surprise of it all and Harry was left smiling at his fingers. He glanced at the man’s back from the corner of his eyes, catching his sister’s eye instead. She held the eye contact for a good few seconds before she smirked and looked away. Harry blushed at being caught and looked away immediately, taking a big gulp of his drink. This was not going well.
“Say Louis,” she started again and Harry could hear the mischief in her tone. But he didn’t think much of it, fixating instead on the man’s name. Louis. It was a beautiful name, fit for a king. And he hadn’t seen his face from up close but he had seen his cheekbones so he could proclaim that the man looked royal as well. He could tell. “What if I was to set you up with someone? What kind of guy would you like?”
“You know what kind of guy I like, Lots.” He snorted and Harry pursed his lips, leaning a little closer so he could hear well. “Someone nice and funny, that’s all. At this point I have no other criteria and I’m tired of searching so if you find someone fit for my personality... don’t do anything. I have a feeling the universe would send the guy to me, soon.”
Harry couldn’t help but look over again, feeling warm and fluttery inside. The bride was looking at him over Louis’ shoulder, waggling her eyebrows before she looked back at her brother. It was clear she was asking him to make a move, but like a coward, Harry hesitated. The confidence from earlier had worn off, mainly since he realised that his dream guy was now a reality. It made his heartbeat quicken and palms sweaty. He had half a mind to run away somewhere and yeah, Harry was not good at chatting handsome men up. He had lied. That's why he was single.
“You’re such a lost cause,” Niall hissed in his ear as he dragged Harry away by his elbow. Since Harry wasn’t expecting it, he jumped, making his drink spill over his shirt. Just a few drops but he still glared at his friend, silently asking him why he had done that. Niall looked unaffected, rolling his eyes as he let go of him. Harry frowned as he immediately crossed his arms over his chest and waited, hoping his friend had a good explanation for why he had rudely pulled him away like that. “You were standing there for seven minutes like a fool.”
“I was getting to know him.”
“More like trying to overhear his conversations.”
“Same thing,” Harry insisted, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Niall didn’t relent. “Alright, in my defence he’s gorgeous and I’m pathetic.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Niall deadpanned, shaking his head. Harry glanced over his shoulder, finding Louis oblivious to his presence and sighed. He really wished to be noticed and he didn’t know how to. “So here’s how it will go. I’m going to be the wingman and introduce the two of you and disappear. You have to handle the rest of it.”
“I don’t need a wingman.” It was a lie.
“Sure you do,” Niall retorted easily with a wink. Harry huffed petulantly, not willing to give in just yet because he’d be damned if he did that. “Just follow my lead okay. And don’t fuck it up.”
Before Harry could protest and say something along the lines of how he hadn’t fuck things up, Niall was gripping his arm again and dragging him back. The bride noticed him yet again, flicking her veil behind her as he smiled. Louis noticed her strange expression this time, swivelling around this time with a frown that morphed into a surprised smile as he spotted Harry. And boy was Harry not ready to actually see him.
Harry felt the time stop for the few seconds, everything going in slow motion. There was a vaguely familiar tune playing behind him and he couldn’t for the life of him remember it. He was choking on words, stunned into silence due to the beauty that was the man. His eyes were bluer than the sea, holding a certain sparkle to them. His cheekbones were sharp enough to cut cheese, hollowed further as he sipped his drink and raised his eyebrows in waiting. Harry was sure he was gawking but he was also sure the man was looking him up and down, checking him out.
“Yes?”
“Have you met Harry?” Niall asked with a flourish as he shoved Harry further without any warning. Harry, who was unusually uncoordinated on his feet, stumbled and reached out to stabilise himself on the counter. Louis’ hand came to rest on his forearms to stop him from falling, while the other hand placed his glass down. The closeness was doing things to Harry’s heart, making it do gymnastics in his chest. He smiled giddily, a touch intoxicated by Louis’ hand on his arms.
“Hi, I’m Harry,” he said lamely and grinned. He placed his glass on the counter as well, knowing it was likely to spill and then reached to place his elbow on the counter to seem casual. Just his luck that he missed the counter by a few centimetres, stumbling for the second time in two minutes and Louis’ grip tightened on his bicep and he frowned further. “Oops. Sorry for that, I’m very trippy.”
“I can see,” Louis quipped and gave him a slow grin, which looked fond and amused at once. He loosened his grip but his hand stayed put until Harry had seated himself on the barstool before Louis’ hand slowly slid down his arm and dropped off. The entirety of his arm felt like it was on fire and Harry compensated by taking a large gulp of his scotch, focusing on the burning in his throat instead. It was definitely a flirty touch, no doubt and it was definitely an onceover before. From his sister’s hints, Louis was most certainly not straight and probably into him. It was a good thing and also a big surprise. “I’m Louis. And this is my sister, Lottie.”
Harry barely deterred from saying ‘I know’, since he knew because he had overheard. Instead he smiled over at Lottie, who was waving back with a wide, teasing smirk.
“Nice to see you there,” she chirped before winking. She fiddled with her veil, pushing it back into place before she focused on her drink solely. Harry knew it was on purpose and he appreciated it.
“I like your name,” Harry told Louis, wondering if it was the right thing to say. He was answered with a beautiful laugh.
“Fit for a king yeah?” Louis replied and Harry wanted to scream because that’s exactly what he had thought. This man was at least his mindmate . If that was even a thing.
“Is that why you’re dressed this fancy to drink at a bar?” he teased instead, hoping somehow it looked like flirting. Louis propped his head on his palm, eyebrows arching further.
“Yeah you caught us,” Louis replied without missing a beat and winked. Harry almost choked on the sip of scotch he had taken, spluttering surely. He almost choked because of his drink has spilled onto his shirt, soaking it. “Oh fuck you’ll ruin your shirt. Just let me...”
“Here,” Carl said as he immediately pushed some tissues towards Harry. Louis grabbed it first, dabbing it over Harry’s shirt. Harry pulled away a little, but not enough to stop Louis’ insistent hands which attempted to soak the drink from his shirt. The material of the shirt was thin and Harry was afraid Louis could feel his loud heartbeat.
“You’re very clumsy,” Louis said, eye twinkling with mirth as he threw away the used tissues. He gave him another obvious onceover. Harry had half a mind to plaster the tissues over his face so it would cover his blush, while simultaneously feeling over the moon due to the compliments. “But it’s cute.”
“Of course you think that,” Lottie murmured, successfully distracting them as she nudged her brother. Harry thought Louis looked cute as well, even when scowling and scrunching his nose up. There was nothing Harry would find unattractive about him, especially not right now. He liked Elvis songs, seemed witty enough to match Harry’s bad attempts at flirting and overall, beautiful. “Hey Harry, I didn’t know you drank scotch as well. Louis loves scotch, don’t you? Straight?”
Louis hummed. “Straight?”
“No, gay,” Harry responded immediately, feeling like an idiot when Lottie started laughing. He frowned at her in confusion before he got the context. Oh no. He was asking about the scotch. Oh the fucking no he made such a blunder. But Louis had joined in with her, laughing as he placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezed as if in consolation. Harry slapped his hand over his face while watched through the gaps in his fingers, the glass Louis was drinking from. It indeed was scotch, which was something he should have noticed before since it was on his checklist that helped him find potential soulmates. So this was great! Harry also fixated a little on Louis’ nimble fingers, with a 2 and 8 tattooed on the index and middle fingers respectively. He was a little late when he said, “I didn’t mean... the scotch is straight, I’m not.”
“Good to know Harry,” Louis said and he really did mean it, as he squeezed Harry’s shoulder once more before he let go. He shrugged, putting the glass to his lips as he kept staring at Harry. Harry’s flitted down to where Louis’ lips were pursed around the rim of the glass and swallowed, feeling a lot sober. It was ironic, since the next minute he downed his entire drink in one go and resisted a shudder. He was fine. “I’m a neat man, myself. But today I settled for a straight. I’m talking about the scotch, not me of course. I don’t settle for straight.”
Harry made an embarrassing whining sound as he buried his head in both his hands.
“This is the worst thing I’ve ever said.”
“Oh no don’t say that,” Louis cooed, trying to pry Harry’s hands off his face while chuckling. “This is the best conversation I’ve had today. It’s alright.”
“This will make a great story some day,” Lottie chimed and Harry groaned in his hands before he peeked up at the siblings. Louis was giving him a soft smile, just a tad encouraging. He was perfect, Harry couldn’t help but think and hence he could get quickly over the blunders he had committed in the past few minutes. He had to make a better impression.
“Do you want to join me and my friends?” Harry asked, pointing towards the second booth where Liam and Niall were sitting, shamelessly staring at them. When caught, they grinned and waved, with only Liam looking the littlest bit ashamed. He rolled his eyes before smiling at Louis again. “We’re sitting there. You can join us. If you want that is.”
Lottie looked at Louis and raised her eyebrows to which the latter shrugged. “Yeah why not.”
“Lead the way,” Louis said and chuckled, motioning forward. Harry nodded jerkily and almost tripped in his haste to lead. Today was clearly not his best or coordinated day, he thought while focusing on Louis’ laughs behind him.
Liam was giving him a wide-eyed expression when they headed towards him and Harry pleaded with him to not react inappropriately. He slid in beside Liam and nursed his drink and was surprised when Louis slid in beside him. He stared at the man, slack-jawed since he had expected for Louis to sit on the other side with his sister, who was currently picking up her dress and sitting properly. He picked his jaw when Louis turned to look back at him with a smile and Liam kicked him under the table. Thanks, Liam.
“Hi I’m Niall,” Niall said loudly as he extended his hand for Louis to shake. “And this is Liam. Nice to meet you.”
“Louis and Lottie.”
“Nice to meet you,” Liam added, smiling genuinely. It felt a little too formal to Harry, really so he took another sip of his scotch to shut himself up. “Are you two from around here?”
“Oh no we live in West Brompton, yeah.” Louis nodded as he finished the rest of his drink.
“We were at a wedding nearby,” Lottie added before pointedly taking a sip of her fruity drink. She looked at each of them with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, as if baiting them to ask the very obvious question everyone had about her. Liam and Niall shifted uncomfortably and Harry knew Niall wanted to ask it but Liam wouldn’t let him. When Lottie’s eyes landed on Harry, she wiggled her eyebrows before nodding her head towards Louis. Harry ducked his head in embarrassment but then he hadn’t been subtle about Louis either, so he looked up, only to meet Louis’ awestruck eyes. He smiled fondly at Lottie before his hand came to rest around Harry’s shoulder and he pulled him in. It was all too soon, but Harry felt snug as he rested against Louis and more importantly, felt happy. At this rate, he would be married by the end of this week for sure. He crossed his fingers.
“We were wandering around and randomly picked this bar,” Louis continued.
“It’s like fate,” Harry murmured and Liam made a grumbling sound but didn’t say a word.
“Fate it is,” Louis agreed and Harry preened. Louis was the person to believe in the power of the universe then! So he continued talking about random things with Louis, feeling completely separate from the other discussion that was going on between Lottie, Liam and Niall. He missed the looks they were throwing him, too engrossed in what Louis had to say.
“You know I wanted to living in Notting Hill because of the film?” Louis was saying and Harry was sure he had stars in his eyes. “But then I realised that it’s way too costly for me to live at. It’s sad.”
Yet, Harry laughed, making Louis grin widely. “You’re doing it wrong. You need to own a bookstore there.”
Louis’ smile was wide enough to make his eyes appear in slits and he shook his head. Momentarily he glanced over at the other occupants on the table and found everyone staring at them. Harry cleared his throat as he straightened up again, folding his hands on top of the other on the table and smiling politely at them.
“And now that we have your attention,” Niall started before he turned towards Lottie. “Don’t mind me, but why are you in a wedding dress right now.”
Harry snorted abruptly, making everyone’s eyes fall on him again. “Oh no. I am just surprised it took Niall an hour to ask the question he was dying to ask. I commend your patience.”
“Oh shove off.” Niall rolled his eyes. “But Lottie, Louis, please. We want to know.”
“But it’s no pressure,” Liam placated, glaring at Niall before smiling at the siblings.
Louis chuckled as he removed his arm which was draped over Harry’s shoulder and he pouted for a second before he felt Louis’ hand on his thigh. Now he couldn’t breath. “We thought no one would ask.”
“Yeah we would have changed if we didn’t want any questions,” Lottie said as he wiggled her eyebrows. “But it’s not some big reason, really. One hour before the wedding I realised that I didn’t want to get married after all and I felt incredibly guilty. So I told Lou that and he said to not worry about the money, since he had paid it all really and just told me if I wanted to leave we could. So we did, just sneaked down the window and found our way back to the city. We were wandering and my feet were getting tired so we popped in.”
“So here we are,” Louis finished with a flourish and Harry hummed, as if it was a good conclusion. To him, it was. “It’s been like three hours and three calls from each of our sisters and mum. We haven’t picked up yet but I did text mum we’d be back soon but the wedding was off.”
“And speaking of mum,” Lottie started, looking apologetic all of a sudden as he fiddled with her veil. “I think we should head back home now. Mum would be waiting and if we are out any late, we’ll have to hear about it for eternity.”
“Do we have to leave?” Louis asked, and if Harry wasn’t missing it, he casted a glance at the latter pleadingly.
“I think we have to, Lou.” She shrugged, definitely casting Harry an apologetic look and smile. “It’s almost ten. It’s late.”
Harry frowned, feeling his heart sink now that Louis had to leave. He hadn’t forgotten about his proclamation and need to get married. Although, he could wait on the marriage front for now, wasn’t that desperate but he was desperate for Louis. In the one hour they had gotten to know each other, he had realised Louis was actually perfect, ticking off all the lists Harry had made. It was as if he was handpicked, specially made for Harry’s picky choosing and then dropped into his lap. He couldn’t let him go, not now. He hadn’t been drunk for a while, so his thoughts were sure.
Louis beat him to the chase this time.
“Hey Harry,” he whispered as Lottie stood up and fixed her dress. She was gaining attention from those who were unaware there was a bride in a white dress sitting amongst them in the first place. Harry wasn’t looking at her yet again, instead staring into the iridescent blue eyes. “I might too forward here.” Lottie snorted. “But would you like to go out with me sometime? Like on a date?”
Harry grinned, biting on his lip as he pushed a stray strand of hair off his face. “Yes, I would love to.”
“That’s great,” Louis replied, his cheeks pink. “And I don’t know if you like it, but I had a feeling you would so. There is a wine tasting I’m invited to on Saturday. Yeah it’s too soon but –”
“Yes!” Harry repeated, with renewed enthusiasm. “I love wine.”
“I’m glad,” Louis said, biting his lower lip before he leaned forward quickly and pressed a quick peck against Harry’s cheek before sliding out of the booth. "Eight pm."
Louis looked redder than before but was grinning widely as he waved, leaving with his hand on his sister’s waist and leading her out. Harry stared after him in surprise, barely registering his friends’ laughter.
“I’m gonna marry that guy,” he whispered.
And this proclamation came true as well, two years later.
***