Waking up beside you was something he loved. Having you snuggled deep into his side, one of his t-shirts adorning your upper body, your legs bare and every so often nudging against his own bare legs, beneath the thick duvet of the bed, sheeted with a clear white duvet cover with a spotted pattern near the foot. There was something about the way you had an arm thrown across his stomach, your fingertips grazing his bare hip showing from his boxers, and your cheek smushed against his chest, just beside his nipple and beneath his one of his swallow tattoos. Deep down in his mind, excitement was brewing. He got to wake up beside you for most of the 5 years you’d been together, and now he gets to wake up beside for the rest of his life; your warm breath soothing his cold skin, the feeling of your touch against his flushed skin when the nights were hot, your leg occasionally hitched over his thighs, and your hair pillow-messed and knotted and tickling at his nose.
Knowing he had you close made a smile stay on his face for the rest of day; from the moment he looked at you for the first time, to the moment he fell asleep. You were the first face he saw in the morning and the last face he saw in the evening. There was always a struggle to leave the bed every morning, because it meant he had to leave for the day to carry out activities that you weren’t allowed to attend, unfortunate to him as well as you. All he wanted was to cuddle up and feel you against his body, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you spoke about anything your mind conjured up. Pillow talk was something he wished he could write up and re-read because your voice just projected anything; sometimes funny, sometimes serious, and sometimes something he loved to just listen to without even interrupting your train of thought.
That one cloudy yet somewhat sunny Wednesday morning, was a day where all he wanted was to stay in bed with you and do nothing but watch random shows on TV, and eating junk food and not caring about looking dirty and disgusting. But he couldn’t do any of that with you, because that day was the day that he’d organised to go suit shopping with the boys, Nick, Ed, and James.
His eyes pried open yet immediately squinted and scrunched up as he took in the light of the bedroom. A wince left his lips as he lifted his arm up and fisted his hand at his eyes to wipe away the sleep lingering at the corner. He looked down beside him, seeing you on your side, tucked into his side, breathing and snoring softly. He didn’t want to wake you, but his arm was numb from its place underneath you, and he could feel his fingertips throbbing ever so slightly with a tingling feeling along with it.
He gently slid it from beneath you, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead as you snuffled and felt yourself wake up. Confused as to why you were awake early.
“Sorry, baby. My arm was numb, I tried to not wake you,” Harry apologised, his voice raspy and deep, almost cracking slightly with his throat being dry and raw. His early morning voice was your favourite, enough to make you weak at the knees, and it was a voice you were dying to hear for the however long possible. “Go back to sleep, yeah? I’ll wake you up before Nick gets here,” he smiled, nuzzling his nose to your hairline and pressing his lips to your forehead.
“What time is Nick coming? I thought you were going this afternoon?” You wondered, propping yourself up onto your elbows as Harry slid himself from the bed covers and stood exposed in the cold room. Goosebumps rising on his legs and his forearms, a shiver running down his backbone. “Can’t you stay in bed just for a few more minutes? We didn’t get a cuddle this morning,” you whispered, your eyes watching as Harry sauntered around the bedroom, feet padding against the plush carpet layering the bedroom floor. The creak of the wardrobe sounded around the bedroom as he rummaged for a pair of his black jeans and a shirt he could throw on just for casual wear.
“I wish we could have a cuddle, baby. But, Nick’s coming through at 9. I’ve got 20 minutes to shower and get ready, and then make sure I’ve got money in my account for the suit. I don’t have time to cuddle, babe,” he mumbled, bending down for the drawer at the bottom of the chest of drawers beside the wardrobe, his fingers grazing across the fluffy material. A towel being pulled out before he threw it over his shoulder and stood up, closing the drawer with his ankle. “If you get your cute, little, lazy bum up now then you can come have a shower with me. Because, I know you can’t resist a shower with me.”
You sighed softly, giggling as he shuffled into the en-suite bathroom with his fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers. As he stepped into the already brightly lit bathroom from the sunlight filtering through the window, a smirk lifted your lips as he turned his back to you, his fingers moving the boxers down his waist and down his fuzz-covered thighs, before letting them drop to his ankles.
“Last chance,” he mumbled, a slight hint of amusement lacing his voice.
As you stayed put in the bed, your legs crossed at your ankles, you watched him step further into the bathroom, his elbow knocking the door to the doorframe. You fell back to the bed, a smile lifting the corner of your lips as you listened to your soon to be husband fumbling and rummaging around in the bathroom. No doubt looking for something he’d misplaced just hours ago when he showered the previous night.
With the constant sound of him rummaging around the bathroom, a decision was made in your mind to go and see what he was indeed looking for, whether it be his razor or his toothbrush, or maybe even his sponge. The ongoing banging of drawers and the sounds of the shampoo bottles and shower gel tubes falling over, he was either in panic of finding what he needed or he was causing what you thought was a panic filled moment, when in retrospect he wanted you to come in so he could eventually pull you into the shower, or bath as some nights he’d do this very activity to get you in the bath with him.
“Harry Edward Styles, if this is another moment where you pull me into the shower, I will not be happy. At this rate, Nick will be waiting hours outside for you. I was going to wait up and let him in when he got here,” you sighed, opening the bathroom door. A naked Harry standing front on, with a cheeky smirk on his face, made you realise it was another one of his silly games, and in return for his smirk, you gave him and eye roll and a shake of your head.
“Please, baby? I won’t see you nearly all day. Can’t we just have some time together now? Or maybe I’ll come home early tonight and we can have a cuddle night and some Chinese take away from that restaurant you like,” he offered, stepping towards you with his arms open. His fingertips grazing your upper arm as he stood in front of you, towering your smaller frame. “I don’t need to go out for a drink with them tonight. They’ll understand. It’s Wednesday. I don’t drink on weekdays.”
“That’s utter rubbish, Harry. You drink whenever you need too. Don’t you come home because I’m home without you. I’ve got your sister coming over for the night, and Sophia’s going to pop by with a bottle of wine. I think we’re going to have a girls night in. They’re going to help me with extra wedding planning,” you smiled, leaning up on your toes to press a light yet passionate kiss to his pink lips. “You know we assigned her to find a caterer? She found a good one, so I’m going to look over the person she’s found and see if they’re any good,” you grinned, rubbing your hands together.
With the stresses of everything you’d been planning recently, you’d taken up the offer of having Gemma find the caterer for your wedding food. Yes, you were having a small already catered for dinner, but you had a feeling that with everyone going, you’d have a buffet on the side with multiple snacky foods and puddings that people could munch upon with their alcoholic beverage. You’d always used the idea of having a buffet food table just in the case the children attending the wedding weren’t so sure of the food already being served, so it was a win-win for anybody.
“Oh, okay. That’s good though! She’s found a caterer. She’s a trustworthy one, I told you,” Harry smiled, cupping your face in his large palms. His fingers were free from any rings he’d push down on them, so the coolness of the metal was missing as he pressed his hands to your cheeks. “Will you please have a shower with me? Or at least sit in here whilst I shower? That way, we will still be spending time together this morning. Just not together together,” he whined, a small pout on his lips.
And with that pout, he’d won you over.
“Okay, fine. I’ll stay until Nick rings the doorbell.”
* *
“There’s the missus to be. You’re looking beautiful this morning, babe,” Nick laughed, as you emerged in the doorway of the front door. Nick Grimshaw stood there with his Harry look-a-like outfit on; brown boots, black jeans and a funky looking shirt that looked like it came from Harry’s wardrobe. “Where’s this husband of yours? He needs to hurry up. I’ve got an impatient James Cordon in the car, and we promised Ed we’d go pick ‘im up,” he added, shuffling into the foyer and closing the front door behind him.
“Harold is upstairs getting dressed. He couldn’t find what to wear, so he was stressing over that,” you sighed, walking into the kitchen as he followed you. The clicking of his boots sounding around the kitchen space. “How are you today, anyway? I suppose you’re used to being up this early, eh?” You giggled, sitting up on the counter by the kettle and flicking the switch on.
“I’m feeling alright, yeah. I’m just curious to know what type of suit Harry’s bound to pick out. His fashion is rather funky, isn’t it? I can see him at the end of the aisle with a patterned shirt and a pair of ripped skinny jeans on, accompanied by his brown suede boots,” Nick laughed, bracing his forearms on the island counter in the middle of the kitchen, and pushing his weight onto them. His hands fisted as he looked around the kitchen.
He’d only ever been to your home a few times before. Usually you and Harry were always invited to his home or out and about at Xander’s London home or Ed’s for that matter. He was always fascinated with how Harry had found such an incredible home, let alone an incredible lady to live in the home with. Nick had been there before you, seeing him when he was first starting out on The X Factor, and he’d seen the times the 16 year old had gone through. Now at 21, he’d seen his best friend grow into a man and a very lucky man to say the least.
“Stop laughing at my sense of fashion, Nicholas. Need I remind you of who you dressed like today,” Harry smirked, appearing in the kitchen archway and folding his arms over his chest as he stood with one boot on his feet and one boot in his hand. He looked over to you, and sent you a soft smile, before he unfolded his arms and dropped his boot to the floor, sliding his foot into the foot hole and adjusting it comfortable on his foot. “Besides, my missus loves my fashion sense. She suits my shirts, need I say,” he added, walking across the tiled floor to punch Nick in the shoulder and wander to where you were settled on the counter top. He perched himself between your legs, his palms resting at your thighs as he pressed a kiss to your nose.
“How about the two of you get out and go look at suits, yeah? Leave me be for the morning,” you grinned, lacing your fingers together at the base of Harry’s back. “I love you. Have a good day, yeah? Say hello to my second husband for me, hm?” You grinned, watching as Harry’s head rolled back and a groan left his lips.
“Call Tommo up and tell ‘im yourself. You don’t need me to tell him,” he whined, looking at you. “He’ll pop by later on, anyway. He’s dropping me home from the pub. He’s been told by his mum he needs to stop drinking so much, so he’s taking it easy tonight,” Harry reasoned, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Good for him,” you smiled.
“C’mon then, H. I’ve got Cordon texting me from the car. I locked him in,” Nick smirked, locking his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. He looked over at you, and scanned your wide-eyed face and gaping lips. “I left the window open a crack, sheesh woman. I wouldn’t actually plan on killing James now, would I?” Nick chuckled, walking over as Harry helped you off the counter.
“C’mere, Grim. Keep my fiancé safe today. He’s had some back problems. I don’t need it being problematic again,” you sighed, as Nick pressed a kiss to your cheek and gave you a soft yet tight hug. He smelt very strongly of cologne, and you swore it was one from the Tom Ford collection in Boots.
“I promise to keep him safe, babe. You have a good time here today. I’ll keep you updated with what we’re up too,” Nick smiled, edging away from you as he followed Harry out of the kitchen and into the foyer again.
“I can keep my soon to be missus up to date, Grim.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Styles. Go get in the car. Keep Cordon company. He looks to be moaning,” Nick laughed, as he looked towards the car and waved as James gave him an angered look and proceeded to knock on the window, his faint yelling heard from the crack Nick had left the window open at.
* *
“After all the suit shops we’ve visited today, I don’t think you can count Yves Saint Laurent as one of them,” Louis muttered, as he slammed his car door shut and stood by the bumper. His arms folded over his chest as he looked through the window of the shop. “You’re sure you want to buy a suit from here, Harry? I’m sure we can find a better store,” Louis tried to reason, knowing deep down he just wanted to head inside to see any potential new clothing he could add to his YSL clothing in his wardrobe back home. And Louis remembered overhearing the both of you having a playful bicker, about how he spent too much time in the store and buying everything that he’d might as well buy the store.
“I want to look. I’ve been on the website and Ed said this one’s got a good blazer and trousers section which could work well. (Y/N) doesn’t want traditional. We’ve spoken about it. She’ll be fine with this,” Harry sighed, as James and Ed rounded around Nick’s car, with Niall and Liam behind them.
“YSL. What a shocker,” Niall laughed, clapping Harry on the back as he pushed between Louis and Harry and preceded for the entrance of the store.
“I heard they have good blazers in here. Who cares if the whole suit doesn’t match?” Ed stated, as Harry turned to look at the ginger-haired friend of his and nodded. “We can look for some suits as well, ya’know? I know for a fact I’ve got a good one from here, and it’s worked pretty well for weddings and celebrations,” Ed added, as he followed Harry and Louis into the shop with James Cordon beside him.
“Here, Harry! There’s a good YSL store in LA, isn’t there? Have you looked in there during your recent travel there?” James wondered, his mind remembering when he visited the store just recently in LA. “I swear, I saw a good’un in that store. I’m sure your missus won’t mind you flying out to go and get a suit from there,” James stated, as Harry shook his head.
He wanted to stay with you. He couldn’t afford to fly out to LA at a time where you needed him. Stress was piling on top of you, and with the wedding dress shopping just coming up for you and your bridal party, he wanted to be there to calm you down and fly by the dress store if necessary. If you needed to be calmed in person, that is. He had a hunch that this YSL store was going to give him his suit. The suit he was going to get married in. The Old Bond Street store was one he visited on a regular basis, and it was one he had stuck in his mind.
This was the store he wanted to buy his suit from.
“I want to get my suit from here. I don’t care,” he murmured, and entered the shop with the door ringing above his head and sounding around the shop. He immediately sided up to where Liam was looking at blazers, deciding what one would look best upon his tall and lanky framed best friend and bandmate. “My missus wants black suits for the groomsmen and the groom, Li. So, we somewhat match. But, with the colour scheme she’s picked out, we wear different coloured ties to show who’s the groom and who’s the groomsman and the best man and stuff like that,” Harry smiled, lifted a blazer from the metal pole and giving it a once over before he placed it back.
“We’ve got time,” he murmured.
* *
Blazer ***. Shirt ***. Trousers ***. Boots ***.
“We don’t get a lot of grooms buying suits from in here, Mr Styles, but I must say, this is a very good decision of clothing,” the cashier smiled, his frail frame hunched over as he scanned away at the items of clothing Harry had placed on the counter. “When are you getting married, may I ask?” He wondered, as Harry grinned, and nodded softly. His hair falling over his face.
“4 weeks time. I figured, I buy a lot of Yves Saint Laurent shirts and boots, and it’s a store me and my fiancée love a lot. So, I wanted to have a look and I’m quite glad we did end up coming here,” Harry chuckled, sliding his wallet from his pocket, and pulling his card out. The man behind the desk smiled as he watched Niall, Louis, Liam, Ed, Nick and James search for shoes that they would match with. A decipher conversation happening as Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. “They remind me of women, if I’m honest.”
“Oh, trust me. I’ve had plenty of men in here have trouble finding boots. I know the difficulty of it,” he laughed, his frail voice turning into a booming laugh as it melded with Harry’s soft and delicate laugh where his eyes crinkled at the corners and his teeth were on full show. “They seem to have found a pair, though. The brown boots are the best buy, if I’m honest,” he called out to the 6 guys huddled around the shelves of boots. Louis’ hands delicately holding onto a pair of the brown suede boots Harry was so used to wearing.
“We’ve got out suits. I think we’ve got our shoes,” Louis grinned, carrying his suit over to the check out as Harry lifted his own bag from the counter and carefully placed it to the floor. “I must say, I had doubts about him buying a suit from here, but I think his lady will be happy with the outcome. I just can’t wait to see what she’s wearing on the day,” he smiled, nudging Harry’s arm as the 6 guys preceded to check out their clothes.
Hard day’s work, Harry thought, his mind wandering to the shops they’d entered just before the YSL store on Old Bond Street. He just hoped now, that it matched what you’d hoped he’d have ended up buying. He wanted you to have the best wedding possible, to have all of your imagery in your mind met. And he could only hope the suit matched your ideas.

Notes