Even If It Hurts -H.S. AU

Epilogue -2

Just over a year later

Harry and I have spent the last year and a half completely renovating our home. We decided to do most of the work ourselves, which has definitely been a slow process since the both of us are so god damn busy, but it's really made us closer and given us a sense of pride in the place we want to spend our lives together.

Not to mention he looks so fucking good in dirty jeans and a T-shirt. His muscles straining as he breaks a sweat lifting and moving things that I'm not strong enough to do by myself. We might be getting nothing done because I'm physically unable to keep my hands to myself watching him work.

Between working on the house and both of us running our businesses, we have been more exhausted than either of us anticipated. We've also made an effort to visit home at least every other month, especially since Cas and Sophie had another baby and my dad got married.

I was recruited to come home a few weeks ago at the request of Niall to help him propose to Mia. He knew he wouldn't be able to pull off any kind of secret without using me to distract her. He's absolutely right too. Without me keeping her busy, she would've sniffed out his weird behavior in a second.

Harry wasn't able to come with me that time due to work, and he was so incredibly disappointed. Not only to miss out on his brother getting engaged, but also because I got to hold our niece and goddaughter, Eliza, for the first time. I sent him a photo of me holding her and he joked that he was getting on the next flight immediately.

Watching my brother with his kids, and seeing how happy he is, renewed an ache in me that I wasn't sure I would feel again. Harry and I play around with the making babies talk in the bedroom, and flirt with the idea of having kids "some day" but the more we talk about it, the more I can see the desire in his eyes for it. And I don't think I can ignore the want coming from us both anymore.

I pull up to the house, parking next to Harry's Nova and shut off the engine. The sun is starting to set and I spot a light on upstairs in his office. I run my hands over the steering wheel and grab my purse from the passenger seat. I shut the door to my black G-wagon and walk across the pavement to the front porch.

When we moved out here I had to get my own car, since Harry and I won't always be working at the same time, or in the same office. Despite me telling him not to, the next day he came home with keys to this gorgeous vehicle and a huge guilty grin on his face.

I shut the front door behind me and set my purse on my desk in my home office that's just past the front door. The previously empty shelves are now painted black with rows of books organized along them. I kick my heels off, leaving them carelessly strewn across the floor and shut the French doors behind me when I leave.

I slowly make my way up the stairs and the melody to Dreams by Fleetwood Mac floats down around me, making me smile. The music blaring tells me that Harry is working, and probably has been for hours while I attended meetings this afternoon. He'll run through record after record while he works. He says it helps him focus to have music on in the background. On a particularly stressful day, he listened to Pink Floyd over and over again to the point I was wearing the earmuffs we have- meant for when we use the table saw- around the house.
The fact that he's listening to Stevie tells me it's been a good day. And I hope I'm about to make it better.

I lightly pad across the hardwood floor, down the hall to his office. His door is open, but his music is so loud, he's not even aware that I'm home yet. I lean against the doorframe and cross my arms over my chest, just watching him.