fifteen years later . . .

"hello boys and girls, i am mr. tomlinson, but for me that is way too formal. so please, just either call me louis or mr. t. the only time i will allow you to call me mr. tomlinson is when the advisors are around," the group of fourteen year olds laugh and louis smiles to himself. already starting to break the ice, he thinks to himself.

he claps his hands to get their attention and twenty beady pairs of eyes stare at the shorter lad at the front of the classroom, waiting for him to continue. some scared, some tired, and the select few that's actually excited to be louis' language arts class.

"okay, well today i'm supposed to do all that boring welcome to the first day stuff that every teacher has done to you today," louis says, sitting on his desk, "but, since i'm just that awesome, i'll run down this down in two minutes, and we'll get started with some simple classwork. sound good?"

some groans, some thank God's, and the rest just sighed in relief.

"okay, but first i need to call roll," he grabs a list off his desk he's sitting on and clears his throat.

he calls down the row and stops abruptly when he gets to one name. he hasn't heard that name since...

"h-harry styles jr.?"

"here, mr. t." he looks up and sees a  boy, curly hair on top of his head and bright green eyes staring back at louis. holy shit.

"is your dad harry styles?" louis asks hesitantly, already knowing he's overstepping his boundaries. but he needs to know. the smaller boy nods and smiles. "yup, although it's kinda obvious with the jr. at the end of my name,"

the class laughs at his comeback and louis sighs. "sorry, it's just I think I met him before..."

"you think?" a girl beside harry jr. laughs, "you'll remember if you meet his dad, he's freaking hot!"

harry jr. makes a disgusted face at the girl, "ew, do not talk about my dad like that,"

the class laughs again and gets a bit rowdy but louis is in a daze. fifteen years since he heard the name harry styles...

harry styles...he's real?

five years of searching for his soulmate kept leading to dead ends. he ended his search at the age of 22. his friends congratulated him on "coming back to the real world," and took him to a bar. he ended up breaking down at the bar, because the bartender had green eyes and the girl two seats down had curly hair and the man beside him had an apple martini and that's harry's favorite drink and everything reminded him of fucking harry.

"um, mr. t?" a girl, olivia, brought louis back to the present time.

"oh, sorry about that class," louis says, gulping, "let's continue calling roll,"

but the rest of the day, louis was a mess. because holy shit harry styles' son is in his class.

he gets home, and immediately throws his suitcase down on the floor.

harry styles...harry styles...harry styles...

the name kept swirling around in his head because fucking harry edward styles is a real person.

he's a real person and alive and...

has a son.

realization dawns on louis when that sinks in. he has a son. which means there must be a mrs.

louis lays down on his couch and starts crying and hiccuping. because harry styles is alive...

and his son is in his class.