Theirs: a short story [harry styles] ✓ - Chapter 3: Chapter 3

21st March 2016 - 9 months and 5 days before the big day.
"Ready for number three?" Elenore's voice chimed from behind a heavy, ivory curtain. I raised my head from where I stood on the lilac, velvet stool, draped in a layer of pink jersey as a woman hurried around me, demonstrating all the different ways it could be worn.
"Let's see then." I called and the curtain was ripped aside, revealing Elenore wearing what could only really be described as - very little.
It was more of a baby pink bandage than a dress. A wedding dress, more specifically. It clung to every inch of her body like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination and an awful lot on show. It seemed to just about hit her knees but each time she took a step, it rose up a little higher. She looked thrilled. Truly.
"So," she squeaked. "What do you think?"
It felt as though my jaw was somewhere on the cream carpet and my eyeballs were half out their sockets. "What do I think?" I repeated quietly. What on earth did I think? "I think that perhaps now would be a good time to remind you that you are getting married in front of Niall's Catholic family."
Elenore merely frowned in confusion as if I had spoken another language.
"Ele, I'm not saying you have to be traditional because let's be honest - you're not that person. But at least wear something that covers a reasonable amount of your skin? I hate to sound like a party pooper but you're going to have these photos for the rest of your life and I really would hate for you to look back at them and regret this decision." I bit my lip and she blinked at me slowly as if trying to comprehend my words.
"Oh, Marn!" She giggled eventually, placing her hands on her bony hips. "This is the dress for the reception, silly! I want a proper princess ball gown for the ceremony!"
I released a breath I hadn't realised I was holding and managed a smile, still not entirely convinced that the pink bandage was entirely appropriate for the reception either. Elenore clapped her hands together and twirled around in a circle, completely oblivious to the fabric gradually exposing more and more of her bum cheeks. It took a great deal of strength to remind myself that she was happy and that was all that really mattered.
"Oh...right." I said and flinched as the petite woman at my feet began winding the fabric around my body again, almost knocking me off the stool.
"That colour's really pretty on you, Marn." Elenore observed. "I can't wait to see it on Nola."
Nola's flower-girl dress was a miniature replica of my own and even I had swooned at the sight of it on the junior mannequin. Elenore had proceeded to explain the finished look; real flower-crown, miniature bouquet and silver sparkly shoes adorned with clip on paper flowers. She was going above and beyond to transform Nola into the perfect flower princess and I was so excited and grateful that she was going to have this experience.
"We're all going to look amazing. I'm so excited!" Elenore clapped again before spinning back into her fitting room and drawing the curtain. "Oh Marnie, isn't this all just so surreal? Who'd have thought, your drunken one-night stand would lead to this wonderful, wonderful miracle?"
My lips twitched into a smirk but Elenore was right. If I'd never met Harry she'd certainly never have met Niall. And given the difficult beginning to her life, I was only more than happy to have opened this door for her.
"Who'd have thought." I echoed before turning my attention to picking at my fingernails.
"Just think," she called from behind the curtain. "The next time we're trying dressed like this - it'll be for your wedding."
I choked on my saliva.
"Oh!" I spluttered and the lady at my feet raised her hands as if preparing to brace my fall. "I don't know about that, Ele."
My cheeks bloomed scarlet; radiating a red heat across my face and neck that clashed with the shade of my dress.
"Don't be daft!" Elenore exclaimed and I was relieved to hear the sound of her climbing into a dress. A distraction... hopefully. "He adores you. I know for a fact that you're going to get married."
Married?!
It was still alien to me that Harry and I were in a relationship. Never mind married!
"I think we're quite happy as we are right now, El." I bit down on my lip as my head swam with interrogatives.
Did I want to get married?
Did Harry want to marry me?
Did I really want to enter a marriage when the only other I'd witnessed was the loveless union of my parents?
The curtain suddenly flung to the side, revealing Elenore in some sort of chiffon-net-sparkly...tent.
"Jesus Christ." I muttered under my breath as she made her way out, barely able to fit through the narrow door of the fitting room. She held fistfuls of the dress in both hands as she made her way towards the mirror in the centre of the room.
The dress screamed 'Big Fat Gypsy Wedding' and 'Sweet Sixteen' but somehow Elenore made it work. With her blonde tresses cascading over her shoulders and down her back, she looked like a modern day Rapunzel. It made her seem so incredibly...small; all tucked into the middle with big plumes of ivory fabric billowing around her. It really was quite something and therefore - really quite Elenore.
Her eyes filled with tears as she admired her reflection from different angles and it wasn't long before a lump formed in my own throat. I swallowed harshly and tore my gaze away.
Could that really be me one day?
"This is the one, Marn." She said almost breathlessly. "This is the one."
"I know." I smiled from the foot stool. "You look wonderful."
She looked at herself a little longer before shrugging and saying. "I know!"
"Niall's going to love it." I added, ignoring her immodesty. She began to pull her hair into a updo, though half of it still trailing down the back of the dress.
"And Harry's going to love you in that number." She smirked. "I bet he takes one look at you and drops on one knee."
It wasn't disagreeable that Elenore and Niall's romance was like a fairy tale but Elenore still hadn't seemed to grasp the concept that not every relationship worked in that way. She was one of the few and the fortunate. I regretted nothing about my own but it was complicated. There was Nola.
"I mean, you guys are going to have to settle down soon. Aren't you going to enroll her in nursery? You won't be able to keep swanning off to Los Angeles once that's happened." She said, almost smugly, as if somewhat pleased about it.
I opened my mouth to reply but shut it again immediately. Yes, I wanted to enroll Nola into nursery but we'd just never found the right time. Harry was always here, there and everywhere and sometimes I just couldn't keep up. After months of back and forth across the pond, I'd never even taken into consideration that enrolling Nola would mean it was time to stay put.
Somehow I doubted Harry had either.
In that moment; watching Elenore dazzle in her oversized gown, with my head buzzing with chaotic thoughts of the future - I'd never felt more agreeable with myself about something.
It's complicated.