chamber of reflection ➵l.s

daisy's wedding

Daisy has become notoriously known to have a boyfriend that she claims to be the "Love of her life" and "The one" or "The real man that [she] needs." Louis doesn't hold her on these false allegations, she's young, and technically as a twenty-three year old, her brain hasn't fully developed. So when she announced that she was getting married to Shawn, he thought it was a joke. Even after she messaged him wedding dresses and nominated Dakota and Delaney as the flower-girls. 

He really underestimated his sister, and he apologizes for it. What he apologizes for even more is the fact that they're one-hundred percent, out-and-out, going to be late for this wedding. It's not even an idea, he knows for a fact that they're going to be late for his own sisters wedding, and there's nothing else he can do other than pray and rush everyone to hurry up. 

It's four o'clock and he's already dressed in his suit, shoes on his feet, and nothing more than a comb driven through his hair. After all, it doesn't take much for a person as fine as him to get ready. Apparently, the same can't be said for everyone else. "I want everybody dressed and in the car at 4:15, which is exactly fifteen minutes from now!" He shouts from the foot of the steps. He sighs and places his hands on his hips as he stalks around the living room. For the first time ever, he's anxious to arrive at an event on time. Which, technically, is normal being as though the bride is his sister, and he's on the groomsmen list. 

Harry comes down the stairs and Louis could scream at sight of seeing his husband in only a robe, after all this time. He made everyone go up to change at twelve in the afternoon and Harry's only in a robe. What the hell? 

"Harry, I don't want to be late to another event. Not to mention the fact that it's my sister's wedding, we're literally all on the list for something." Harry bends down into his drawers in search for something, most likely overlooking everything Louis said. "You know, we're notorious for being late."

"So what?" Harry mumbles distractedly, reading the back of something. 

"So what?" Louis repeats in disbelief. "Harry, my family already thinks we're highfalutin." 

"So what?"

Louis extends his arms, emphasizing his point. "When you're late, Harry, it says that your time is more valuable than theirs."

Harry looks up rom the box of cinch clips. "It is. So what?" He leaves his desk to stride into the living room, hanging his clothes over the couch as he takes his clothes off the hanger. 

"You know, you even made me late to my cousin Camille's funeral?"

Harry furrows his brows, not understanding. "Louis, you hated Camille."

Louis nods. "That's why I wanted to be early. I wanted to get there and see her up front." 

Harry shakes his head and finally removes his attention from the clothes. "Will you please relax? I'm almost ready."

"Unless you're Judge Judy or The Pope, you have to do better than a robe." Louis comments, gesturing to his attire. Harry smiles slightly, exasperating. "I'm going to wear a dress. I'm just having trouble deciding which one." He murmurs, gazing back at his gowns. 

Louis fakes a gasp. "No! Harry Tomlinson indecisive on what to wear? When has that ever happened before?"

Harry laughs lightly before throwing his hands up. "Why did they decide to get married at night anyway?"

"Because my sister's an insomniac and her fiance's ugly." Harry rolls his eyes in mock disapproval and Louis starts to complain again. "Would you please just go get dressed?"

Harry lifts his gowns up and sighs. "Alright, alright. Which one?" He asks, holding the dresses in front of him. On his right, he has a sparkly blue dress that would certainly look good under the moonlight, and on the left there's a simple black gown that's frank, but would surely accentuate his figure. "Black or blue?"