Archive of Our Own ^beta

Moodboard here!

Saying goodbye had never felt harder. Not in the cold October air, standing in a familiar train station, rain pelting down, angrily hitting his head and forcing his curls to cascade down his face, much like the tears turning his vision blotchy and fuzzy at the edges. The tired material of his windbreaker warmed little as his shoes were firmly planted on the ground, cemented in place like the platform beneath him.

But that wasn’t what made it so incredibly hard to turn around. No, it was the person who was leaving. His clear blue eyes were as red as his own, hair frizzy, though Harry knew how soft it was, tempted to run his hand through it and play with its feather-like texture. But Louis had to leave. He was going to miss his train otherwise, and that would ruin the whole thing.

Because Harry wanted him to succeed, wanted him to follow his dream and achieve his goals for that’s what he deserved. The perfect boy deserved everything and a bit more, and if this was his shot at getting it, then Harry wasn’t going to stop him.

It didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt though. To watch him step onto that train and leave Harry behind, neither having promised to see each other again. They both knew they didn’t have any excuses to keep in contact, nothing holding them together except parties, late nights spent together and a mutual friend group.

At most, you would’ve labelled them as friends. Friends who had casual sex and occasionally kissed in front of others, just because, holding hands was simply how they were, and no one ever questioned it. But they were still just friends. Well, some might’ve labelled it friends with benefits, but they were never that trendy.

So they stuck with friends. A description neither had dared alter with.

You could argue it was because of sheer stubbornness. Or perhaps a knowing of the fact that they would part ways someday, that time edging closer and closer. But while those reasons seemed understandable, Harry wouldn’t blame it on either. No, instead it was fear. That utter gut-wrenching, horrible emotion that kept so many things out of reach, see Louis Tomlinson for example.

Because that’s what it was. Harry’s fear of losing his friend, and with that his chance to explore, feel safe late at night while walking through the city and exchanging ridiculous stories, his enjoyable company at the often god-awful upper-class parties, his… everything (he was nothing if not dramatic as a child), that’s what kept him from admitting it all. To explain how completely gone he was, how his knees buckled when he saw the man in a suit for the first time at prom when they were fifteen, how simple touches, like a hand on his thigh in the cafeteria at lunch, made his skin fire up with need, how his attention made his insides all fuzzy and warm and how he felt safe with him.

No, he kept quiet about it. Instead he resigned to longing glances and yearning touches, soaking up every little piece of the wonder that was Louis fucking Tomlinson.

--

Something was wrong.

Something was so, so, incredibly wrong and Harry didn’t even dare think of the possibilities. 

His heat didn’t come. And he knew it wasn’t late, because he stupidly waited two whole months before acknowledging the fact that something was wrong. Now his mind was screaming at him, shouting information he knew was true but far too stressful to think of.

He picked up his phone, pacing the entire length of the living room floor before turning on his heel and starting over.

Beep

Beep

Bee-

“Hi darling, I’m sorry, can I catch you a bit later?” His voice rang through, cheerful, a bit stressed perhaps. Still energized though, the complete opposite of Harry’s tired body and overworked mind. He could hear some shuffling in the background, a whisper maybe?

“Zee,” he sounded so pathetic with a whimper breaking of his sentence, a desperate sort of sound. He held his breath as to not let out another pitiful noise.

“Oh, baby, give me ten, huh?” Zayn spoke from the other side of the line, voice dripping with warmth as to not further upset the seemingly distressed boy. His words calmed Harry, the sob not making its way out. He took a deep breath in and nodded to his phone, a quiet ‘mhm’ mumbled past his lips. “Love you darling, remember to breath, yeah?” he continued soothingly before hanging up, leaving Harry with his thoughts and a flat full of garbage to clean.

__

Nine minutes later, a breathless Zayn let himself into the flat, Harry cleaning a mirror in the hallway to ease his anxiety.

“That bad?” his friend mumbled before fetching a glass of water from the kitchen. Harry breathed out, his shoulders sagging when he sat down on the green couch, fiddling with a lilac vase on the coffee table.

“Okay, I’m ready when you are, darling,” Zayn sighed out, eyes nothing but patient and loving while he made himself comfortable, taking Harry’s feet up in his lap. And how safe Harry felt, knowing his best friend could make everything better, could make everything right again.

“Uhh, my heat,” he started, eyes closed and tears threatening to fall by the very thought of his situation.

“Yeah, you’re an omega, I know you’ve got heats,” his tone questioning but ever so soft, still rubbing his ankles in gentle patterns.

“No, it didn’t happen Zayn,” voice high pitched and upset as he shook his head. The stress was sending his mind racing and breath irregular, fighting for any semblance of control of his own life.

Arms embraced him, feeling his curls getting smoothed out as heat enveloped him in a comforting blanket.

“Oh, darling, have you taken a test then?” the dark-haired man asked, caring in every way. He looked around the flat, seemingly trying to locate a pregnancy test before Harry answered with a shake of his head, curls bouncing. Digging deeper into the alpha’s chest, he could smell the scent of smoky wood and something sweet- Harry always thought it was maple syrup.

“Do you want me to go buy one for you, or do you have one here?” Zayn questioned softly, not wanting to upset his clearly distressed friend.

“Don’t leave,” was mumbled into his chest, the stroking of curls never ceasing as they got up from the sofa, Harry clinging like koala on the way to the bathroom to find a test.

-

A single plus. The small, crossed lines that was somehow supposed to be enough to signal an entire life. A petite stick, laying on the bathroom counter, so easily overlooked. It seemed insignificant, so little supposed to show so much, supposed to show a whole life.

He had heard it so many times. People announcing they’re pregnant or throwing a cake party while bursting out ‘we’re expecting’, but he realized now that he never grasped how big that was. How much of an impact it actually had. And now it apparently was happening to him, this -thing was inside of him, growing into a human being.

And it all was dawning on him, realizations hitting him like train after train, thrown at him like he was supposed to be able to catch himself as he fell. Tears welled up in his eyes, coming down like rain in an approaching storm, saltiness coating his lips as snot clogged up his nose. In the bathroom mirror, for the first time, he viewed the pregnant version of himself.

He didn’t even know how to feel as he stood on the cold floor, supported by his hands on the pristine counter. Nothing had really changed, he was still the same Harry with brown curls and green eyes, still living in his cramped apartment clotted with plants and a proud green sofa taking up half of the space. But on the other hand, it was like this form was some foreign alien who had taken over his body. He had a damn life growing in his belly. He felt out of control of himself, his body no longer just his own.

“Zee,” he pleaded pathetically, immediately swaying in safe arms as his friend took a look at the counter, seeing the same fact screaming up at him.

“What do I do,” he begged, full sobs raking through his body. Because he didn’t know. For once in his life he had no idea of what to do. He felt completely helpless from that realization, utterly… lost.

Yeah, what do you do?

__

Harry got a cat. It wasn’t his idea, but Zayn had argued it would help and after a Pinterest board filled with soft looking creatures, Harry couldn’t resist. So, three days after the day – as he had decided to call it for the unforeseeable future- he got himself an orange cat.

Naming him proved itself difficult, Zayn’s suggestion being to name him Cat, but with a ‘K’ ‘because then it would be artistic and funny’. The name was quickly shot down by both his highness himself (the cat) and Harry.

“What about Ace?” Harry offered, browsing the internet for every name on the planet, desperate after four days of the cat remaining nameless. “Ace?” Zayn’s response was, which was better than any reaction he gotten in the last hours. Harry counted it as a win.

“Yeah, it sounds cool, right? I could use someone cool in my life, I think,” Harry’s eyebrows drawn together, mulling it over himself. He ignored Zayn’s whisper of ‘I’m cool’. “And it kind of rhymes with H you know? H and Ace,” he added, smiling at the ball of fluff, currently purring from his new, bloody expensive, cat tree.

“H and Ace, yeah, I like it,” Zayn confessed, mumbling it to himself. A smile spread on both faces, finally having found a name for the small feline.

And maybe he could do this.

Him and Ace.

H & Ace.

__

“Okay honey, we’ve got the candles, we bought more flour, is there anything else on the list?” Harry spoke, the soon-to-be three-year-old furrowing her brows towards the list in her hand. They had a detailed plan on everything they would need, organized after where in the store they would find it. Once they found something, she even got to cross it off with her glitter pen!

“M?” he asked from above, his daughter seemingly lost in thought. She nodded in reply before taking a last look at the paper. “Oh no,” she whispered to herself, then looking up at her dad. “We forgot the berries,” and how someone could sound so completely heartbroken over a bag of berries was beyond Harry.

“Okay, then we should go get them, yeah?” he answered, patient eyes and gentle smile for his girl.

“I can do it!” she volunteered immediately, even raising her hand in the air. Harry nearly let out a laugh at her eagerness, nearly. “I’m almost three, I can do it, papa!” And yeah, it had been a long month of her thinking she could do everything, ‘because she would be three’ and ‘do you know how big that is, papa? I can do everything you do now!’

Harry wanted to shout at her to stop growing up, because he was sure it hadn’t been three years with her yet. And after stopping her from getting older, he would wrap her up in bubble wrap and lock her up in their flat. To stay like that forever, just the three of them in a cozy apartment and bubble wrap.

Matilda, H & Ace.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the hand sneaking out of his, or the curious feet wandering off towards where they thought berries would be found. When he looked down, expecting to see his girl a few seconds later, he instead found his hand alone in an empty lane.

__

“Yeah, thank you Nialler, see you Tuesday!” He hung up with a sigh, looking at the cereal options on the shelf.

Suddenly, a faint cry was whimpered from behind him, followed by sniffling. He turned around to be met with a little girl, perhaps two or three. The child brought a closed fist over her face, wiping away a tear but not making a dent in the flood flowing down her cheeks.

“Hi darling,” Louis started carefully, crouching down to her level where she was currently staring at the floor. Her two space buns’ bows matched the pink dress she had on, and her cream white shoes were scraping across the floor in an attempt to conceal her shyness and fear.

“Are you a bit lost here?” He kept his voice soft, tone light and sweet as to not scare the poor girl. She nodded, bright blue eyes glancing up at him through thick lashes, rivalling his own. The light brush of freckles on her cheeks, almost unnoticeable, looked watery from the tears still falling.

“Do you have someone here with you, love?” She started fiddling with a pen in her left hand, whispering “Papa” while looking down, snivelling quietly.

“I was just picking out some cereal, do you want to help me before we go find your Papa?” He offered his hand to the brown-haired girl, a much smaller, more gentle hand tentatively landing in his.

He led her over to the shelf, carefully asking if she wanted to be picked up so she could see the one’s higher up. She contemplated it, but soon told him no, so they kept holding hands as they read the labels together.

“You should get that one,” she told him, pointing a finger towards a row of froot loops. “The parrot is scary though,” she whispered as an afterthought, studying the packet of cereal.

“Yeah, I agree, it does look a bit scary,” he said taking a packet from the shelf. He stepped out of the way for an old lady to pass through the aisle before asking, “Do you have cereal at home?”

“Mhm,” she answered, distracted with a packet with a panda on it, seemingly stroking it like the panda’s fur was on the packet.

She left the packet on the shelf, turning around and walking towards Louis, twirling the pink glitter pen again.

“What kind do you have at home then?” he asked, offering his hand as they walked towards the checkout, Louis wondering if he could ask them to make an announcement for the darling child with him.

“Papa makes it,” she hummed distracted, instead focused on the list she had brought out from her fluffy coat’s pocket. The jacket reminded Louis of an alpaca, the fluffy swirls in a crème tone a nice addition to her outfit.

She looked up at him, for the first time meeting his tranquil eyes. “You’ve got pretty eyes.” It was a quiet whisper, she seemed almost mesmerized by them. Her own had a ring of darkness outlining it, the gentleness of the calming blue a great contrast to the blackness of the outside.

“Why thank you, so do you,” he spoke, kneeling at her level with a smile on his lips.

“My papa liked a boy with pretty blue eyes,” she starts, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, material making way for her soft fingers. “Uncle ZeZe said he is still in love with him,” she babbles, just as a man comes sprinting towards them, his expression a frantic kind with short brown curls bouncing wildly and his long coat flying behind him. The eyes are wide open, undeniably green in a shade no one would ever be able to describe, shining bright even in his current state of fear and oh-

Harry.

Harry Styles.

Harry Fucking Styles.

Suddenly, the space of the entire damn store wouldn’t be enough of a distance for Louis. He needed to be far, far away from the man in front of him. Those swirls of hair threatening to draw him in, eyebrows drawn in a frown as he kneeled in front of the little girl.

It would’ve been fine, absolutely fucking brilliant to meet this blessed god of a human being, if not for the fact that Louis knew how it felt to stroke that hair, to curl his fingers around it and carefully resolve every knot. He knew what it was like to massage his shoulders after a hard day, how the lines of worry evident on his face easily smoothed out beneath the touch of Louis’ thumbs. And for fucks sake, Louis needed to get a grip after three years.

He was not this desperate.

 “Oh, you’re okay, Papa was so worried!” Harry spoke, the child immediately finding her place inside his arms, comfortably resting on his hip when he rose from the floor. “Never do that again, okay Matilda?” Harry continued, clouds of worry still in his eyes. The child just nodded absentmindedly, finding a curl of Harry’s hair to play with while he scolded her.

Without a warning-well, Louis wouldn’t know as he had spent the entirety of the time Harry spoke the child to stare at his face, still stuck on the fact that it was Harry -His Harry- the man himself turned towards him.

“Uhm, hi?” he said, directed at Louis, the tone apologetic. But Louis knew, yes, he knew, that the octave was wrong, and the speed he uttered the phrase was totally off for the man in front of him. And he was so fucked, because he remembered every little detail still, everything from the damn tone down to the slight rasp in the morning, or when he had sung his heart out while baking in the kitchen. He could still recount the fact that his favourite apron was one with cupcakes on it, but one of the straps was broken, but Harry didn’t have the heart to throw it out.

He still knew the little things, like that he preferred scrunchies over hair ties because he had read in an article that it damaged the hair less. He knew that his dream plant was fucking philodendron called pink princess, because of course. It literally screamed Harry’s name.

But yeah, to sum it up, Louis was so damn fucked.

He realized he was probably supposed to answer when someone spoke to him, no matter if it’s your god-like childhood crush with a complexion Jesus himself carved out that Louis definitely hadn’t spent the last four years missing, occasionally wanking to.

Nope, never happened.

“Hi,” he finally answered with a weird voice, completely out of the normal response time. Even the small child had picked up on the awkwardness of the situation, fiddling with her list and pink glitter pen, not looking at either of the two men.

“God, thank you for like, finding her?” Harry still spoke too fast, voice still high. When Louis didn’t answer, seemingly having lost all social skills, Harry rambled on. And Louis really found comfort in not being the only one finding the conversation uncomfortable.

“She’s barely three, and like, I lost her somehow and someone could’ve definitely taken her, and I don’t know what I would’ve done. So thank you and like, yeah-“ he stopped, the last words losing volume.

Louis wasn’t following though, stuck on the age of the child innocently playing with her pen, blissfully unaware of their history together.

Because Louis knew what he was doing three years ago. Three years and few months ago he was leaving home. He was standing on a platform waving goodbye to his whole life. A few months before that he was having the best sex of his life and was so in love his heart could barely take it. And they both were aware time was running away from them. They had lost their friendship because of it. Because they had gone about everything so incredibly wrong. But he could see it now.

The small freckle of a birthmark on her cheek, the long eyelashes hanging over clear blue eyes. The curved eyebrows that definitely weren’t Harry’s. The long brown hair, probably touching her shoulders when it wasn’t up in space buns was a touch too light to be her ‘Papa’s’.

He looked up at Harry, their eyes meeting. The realization was doubtlessly obvious in his appearance, and Harry did nothing to deny it. A small subtle nod and a certain sadness, perhaps regret, washing over his face was all Louis needed.

He had a child.

__

“I liked him Papa,” the small child muttered in Harry’s arms while they walked towards the checkout, a yawn escaping her mouth after.

“He had pretty eyes,” she went on, snuggling into Harry’s chest while they talked. It was a bit of a struggle, balancing a child on one arm and the other pulling their cart with them, but he managed.

“He’s got very pretty eyes, bug,” he whispered, a small grin lightening up the tired girl’s face. She rubbed a hand over her eyes before closing them, smile still present.

_

The reunion in the supermarket had been over far too quickly, or maybe had taken way too long, Louis hadn’t decided yet. They exchanged number before he was left alone, thoughts running rampant. Completely forgetting why he was in the store in the first place, he left with just a packet of froot loops and milk.

Since entering his apartment, a bit out of breath from nothing -he had taken the elevator up- he had typed out four messages to send to Harry, none of them being sent. Was it too soon to send a message? What should he even say? What is the normal thing to do? Oh right, there was no normal, because the situation was fucked up.

It didn’t matter how many times he told himself he had a child, or how many times he wrote that damn message to find out what the fuck was going on, he had no idea what to do. He felt utterly lost from the emotions running through him, going 300 miles an hour, leaving him altogether incapable of doing anything more than stare into a wall and thinking of how the fuck it could be possible.

In the end, he knew there was only one way to find his answers, and it started with sending one of those four messages.

_

They had settled on a Saturday, specifically afternoon in Harry’s apartment. Louis had no doubt it’d be cozy and totally Harry. But maybe that was part of the problem, that he was scared of meeting him again and remembering just how amazing the man really is.

But he would need to face the music someday, so why not today?

On second thought -don’t answer that, Louis had over a hundred reasons on an ongoing list in head, and he wasn’t even close to the apartment complex yet.

The clouds were a dark grey and the air he breathed was heavy with rain yet to fall. A mother was trying to bring two kids along, both wanting to jump in a puddle of water rather than listening to their mom. When Louis passed them, she tiredly mumbled a 'sorry' before dragging the two children along, Louis mumbling a 'no worries' before crossing the street.

And there it was. The blue building standing in front of him, intimidating as it was, thought he wasn't sure if it was because of the construction or the conversation he was about to have.

He punched in the code after allowing himself five seconds of doubt. The only option was the stairs, and after five floors he was out of breath. So much for the cardio Liam forced him to do.

He knocked on the door after a brief moment of hesitation.

"Hi!" A shorter statue opened the door, her hair today in a braid with a blue scrunchie.

"Hi Matilda!" Louis greeted, trying to match the level of excitement coming from the dear child. He stepped inside and closed the door when the girl motioned for him to do so. She pointed towards a hanger with coats on it and Louis arranged his shoes besides a pair of red Adidas.

"Please don't tell Papa I opened the door," Matilda pleaded when he turned around, puppy eyes in full use and a pout finding its way to her lips.

Louis had no idea how anyone could resist.

He nodded in response, a 'mhm' slipping past his lips before he zipped them shut with his fingers and pretend to throw away the key behind his back.

She giggled, a palm covering her mouth before leading him into an opened space apartment, living room on one side and kitchen on the other, where Harry could be found. And God, would he be lying if he said he was anything but breathtaking. Today in cream white pants and a green knitted jumper showing off his collarbones, he looked so enthralling Louis forgot how to breathe for a second.

Get your shit together for fuck's sake.

He hadn't even spent an hour with the man in over three years, but here he was, ready to give up everything for him. Okay, maybe he was a tad bit dramatic, but come on, it was Harry Styles.

The one and only.

He cleared his throat before saying 'Hi', but it still came out weirdly. Perhaps his voice was just always weird around Harry? He still got a ‘hey’ back before the man motioned for Louis to sit down at the kitchen island, Matilda told to go to her bedroom and get ready for a nap.

“I’m just going to lay her down quickly, sorry,” his expression apologetic as the child called him from a room further inside the flat. “There’s tea and everything, help yourself please, I’ll be back soon,” Harry rushed out before turning and all but sprinting to the bedroom.

Louis felt out of place, left alone in the comfortable kitchen. He missed the easy talks and uncomplicated days of their friendship – well, it wasn’t like they were uncomplicated, but they had never been this awkward with each other.

Back then, it had been easy to fit together, effortless. It was just the talking and sharing emotions they’d been bad at. Maybe that was what made this situation so incredibly difficult, that they for once intended to talk.

 A cat swiftly walked into the room, a sharp ‘meow’ following its entering. The orange creature stretched its legs before joining Louis on the kitchen island, a supposed-to-be elegant jump up but the cat slipped halfway through and instead had to fight for one of its nine lives to get up.

When it finally managed, it looked a bit embarrassed before Louis offered his hand to pet the cat.

A gasp interrupted them, both cat and human looking towards Harry from the other side of the island. “I swear, he wouldn’t let me pet him for months when I got him,” he spoke while moving to make his own cup of tea. “Betrayer,” he grumbled jokingly, shaking his head, curls bouncing on his shoulders. Louis just chuckled half-heartedly, feeling a bit awkward while he continued to pet the long-haired traitor.

When he looked up again Harry had sat down, exhausted bags under his eyes and a sigh escaping him. Neither knew what to say, quiet in the room except for the cat’s purring.

“So…” Harry started, a light pink hue covering his cheeks and curls coming to hide his left eye before being scooped away, being tangled around his ring finger instead.

“So,” Louis parroted, rubbing his hands together before taking a sip of the tea. It was the perfect temperature, not burning his tongue but not cold enough to be unpleasant or bitter. But Harry had always known how to make tea, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that the Yorkshire mixture was enjoyable and reminded him of memories from their early days.

He weighed lightly on his chair before he realized what he was doing, carefully letting all four corners down.

“I’m sorry,” Harry’s expression was saddened, regret and embarrassment mixing together into downcast eyes and hands burrowed in his brown hair. His front teeth bit into his lip, just like it did when he was younger and upset.

Louis raised an eyebrow in response, and maybe it was a bit of a shitty move to not give Harry more than that. But maybe he could take that after holding a child secret for three years?

“For not telling you about her and- yeah, for everything about that,” he let out a deep breath of air, brows furrowed and eyes shortly making contact with Louis’ before looking away again.

Louis was silent for a moment, thinking over a reply in his head before speaking. He drummed two fingers on his thigh while considering, eyes at the ceiling before looking at Harry.

“Maybe you could tell me why you did that?”

A pained expression made its way onto the other man’s face, as if he already knew it wouldn’t be enough of an explanation.

“Uh, you’ve got every right to be angry with me,” and if that didn’t sound ominous as fuck to Louis’ ear, he didn’t know what did. Harry didn’t continue until he gave a short nod, his focus solely on the curly haired man.

“But uhm, when you left?” He started slowly, nerves clear as he picked up speed while talking. “I didn’t get my heat, and then, uhm, I took the test like two months after you left? And then it was positive and I had no idea what to do- you- you were out there taking over the world, and rightfully so, because you’re so good at it and I was scared to ruin that for you, and I know it’s a bad excuse- it’s no excuse at all and I am sorry, my intent was never to take her away from you, I just had no idea what to do back then and I’m so sorry,” his voice died off at the end, remorse along with tears contouring his face. He sniffled while staring up at Louis, waiting anxiously for any type of reply.

“I don’t know what to say honestly.” He was absolutely dumbfounded for words. “How uhm, how old is she exactly?” His voice was frail, wrong even to his own ears, careful as if barely wanting to know the answer.

“She’s three in a week,” Harry whispered, lips sucked into his mouth, eyes lingering with regret, sadness swallowing most space in the green of his irises.

“I’ve missed three years of her life?” Louis choked out, only getting a sorry nod in response. He felt tears in his own eyes as realization dawned upon him.

“I’m sorry Louis! I know it wasn’t the right choice, and you’ve got every right to be angry,” Harry rushed out, speaking faster than Louis had ever heard while lifting from his chair, halfway up before sitting down again.

“But why? Because you were young and had no idea?” He reminded himself to keep his voice down, a child-his child- sleeping only a wall away. “That’s a shitty excuse and you know it, Harry!” He shook his head, frow present on his face.

“I know Louis, don’t you think I know that now?” He was upset, they both were. Tears were running freely, Harry sniffling while looking at Louis. And he was so tempted to reach out, hug the boy in front of him and keep him close, snuggle up on the couch until everything was alright, until the last tear had dried, and every argument was resolved. 

In another universe it would’ve been just like that. If only they could turn back time. If only Louis could’ve done anything about his feelings those years ago, instead of acting like a coward and fleeing away from his problems, until he lost Harry in the process of avoiding confrontation.

Because that’s what he had been doing. He hadn’t disclosed any feelings, in fear of Harry not feeling the same and losing their friendship, even when they were running out of time. Even when they did everything like couples did, and they both enjoyed it. From the holding hands to the dates labelled only for them, to the late nights watching reruns of shit reality shows, sharing the sofa and a tub of ice cream, and of course the amazing sex they had every once in a while.

And Louis was so confident it would’ve worked out if they had just bit the bullet and spoken about their feelings. It was so infuriatingly frustrating. He saw it all slip away but was so paralyzed by fear that he didn’t stop it, couldn’t stop Harry from leaving his life.

And now, here they were.

He took a sip of his tea, now cold and bitter on his tongue as he swallowed, entirely unpleasant. He breathed in, trying to regain composure, control his emotion instead of just acting irrationally. He didn’t want to be impulsive, didn’t want to ruin his chances of being in his daughter’s life, and in Harry’s life.

“I want to be in her life, in any way I can,” he asked slowly. They made eye contact as Harry nodded without hesitation, replying with an ‘of course’.

There was still tension in the room from their previous heated conversation, slowly easing as they both had calmed down. “To be honest, I’ve got no idea how to continue, H,” Louis breathed out, tilting his head before continuing. “But I’d like for her to know I’m her father at some point, you know?” he wanted to be gentle, wanted both of them to be his in any way possible. Because it was unfair to have kept Matilda from him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make it easy for both now, for Matilda and Harry.

As much as Louis could be nasty about it all, fight tooth and nail for justice or whatever you would call it, he could also just let it be. Especially as he knew he wanted to have a good relationship with Matilda and Harry.

The man nodded in response, “yeah, I absolutely understand that. I’ve honestly got no idea what to do either. Uhm, she knows she’s got another father; she’s asked about you before actually.” Louis listened intently, Harry taking a sip of his tea, seeming to realize, just like Louis, that it wasn’t drinkable anymore.

“But I don’t know if we should tell her right of the bat, or maybe if you’d like to get to know her first?” Louis had considered it in his head, had stayed up late last night reading about it. Thinking it over before he understood it didn’t make him any wiser, only depriving him of sleep his soon thirty-year-old body desperately needed.

 “I think I’d like to get to know her first, so she can get a feel for me as well, if that makes sense?” he asked, gaining a ‘mhm’ in response accompanied by a head nod.

So it’s settled then. Louis had daughter. One he would get to know. Hopefully see her grow up into the lovely woman Harry surely had raised her to be. And he would get to be part of it, get to raise her with him from now on, sneak her candy and meet with the headmaster when she had troubled someone, surely something Louis would have a part in, and she would get a high five when they walked out of the office.

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, possibilities running through his head a mile a minute, everything finally catching up to him.

“Thank you for giving me this,” he whispered as he fought the moisture building up in his eyes. Harry’s chair screeched in protest against the floorboards as he stood up, walking around the island to enclose him in a hug. And God, how he had missed them. The wonderful feeling of Harry’s arms, how perfect they slotted against him. Even in the awkward position of him still sitting down, it was such a comfort. Home, his mind screamed at him, like Christmas lights blinking outside, lightening up his soul after years of darkness.

“I’m sorry for keeping her from you,” Harry mumbled equally softly into his hair, warm breath coating his skin in goosebumps. He held Harry’s arms hostage for a while, having missed them more than he’d ever admitted.

Louis didn’t respond, a tiny squeeze to his arm all Harry got in acknowledgement.

“Papa! Papa! I’m up!” A high voice sounded, Matilda running into the kitchen, unicorn tight in her hold.

Harry released Louis from his grip and damn it if he didn’t miss the contact immediately. Instead, the curly haired man reached down to hug his daughter, settling her on his hip as if she weighed nothing.

“Hi again! Are you staying for dinner?” Matilda looked at him, excitement blooming all over her face, a grin on it as her eyes drew upwards, creating smile lines similar to Louis’ own.

He unsurely glanced at Harry, who just shrugged his shoulders. He considered it, knowing inside there was no place he was needed and no place he desired more to be than there, in Harry’s apartment. “Yeah sure, I can stay for dinner,” he replied, the child’s smile getting impossibly wider as her dimples was on full display, beaming at Louis.

And yeah, Louis really hoped this would work out. Because fuck- he could never do without it again.

__

Trapped on the sofa between his two friends, Louis took a deep breath before biting the bullet. The empty pizza cartons were stacked neatly on the floor besides them, thanks to Liam, and empty beer cans could be spotted through the apartment. A football game was on the TV, as no one had any urge to watch anything, just having it on for background noise and occasionally muttering a comment on the match.

“Uhm,” both men comically turned their heads towards him then, interrupting their match of who could hold their breath the longest, Niall thinking he could beat the world record. “There was actually a thing I wanted to tell you,” he pushed his hands together, intertwined his fingers before breaking apart, drumming them against his thighs instead.

Liam looked concerned with his brows furrowed, a slight tilt to his head asking him to continue. Niall just waited, a patient look, calm and gentle smile on his face behind his glasses.

“So like, you know Harry?” he looked at Niall before continuing, a little nod all he got in answer. “Uhm, he’s a bloke I was like, very good friends with before I left?” he tried to explain to Liam. “So yeah, I met him again, in the supermarket, and uhm, funny thing, he’s got a daughter,” Louis looked at the floor, an ill-sounding chuckle making its way out as he spoke.

Liam still looked confused, seemingly on the verge of asking him to clarify why this was a big thing he needed them all to meet up for. Niall’s face had already lit up with a smile though, a silent question asked with the twitch of his eyebrows.

“Yeah, so turns out, she’s uhm- three years old?” His voice sounded foreign even to his own ears. Nerves prickled every inch of his body, a nauseating acidic taste in his mouth as he awaited their reactions to his next sentence. “She’s mine, I’ve got a daughter,” he whispered, voice soft and broken at the end, looking from one best friend to the other.

“Really?” Liam’s arms are wrapping him in a hug in seconds, tightly enclosing him, shielding him from his problems, it feels like.

“We’re happy ‘bout this, right?” He murmurs, still hugging, Niall joining from the other side, no doubt a grin on his face. Louis just nods into his shoulder, overcome with emotions, most of all relief. Relief of finally telling someone, finally having someone to help him navigate this.

It gives him hope.

Hope for it all to work out.

_

“Papa, do you think I should wear a pink or blue skirt for LouLou?” A contemplating Matilda stepped into his bedroom, followed by two different skirts. She looked between the two once before proudly holding them out for her dad. He rubbed his eyes tiredly before studying the two options.

“It’s too cold for a skirt today, M, I’m sorry” he answered softly, then looking over his own selection. One half of the wardrobe was covered in different suits along with pants, but that was perhaps too formal for a park meeting with Louis.

“You should wear your pink hoodie, Papa, then I can have the pink skirt, and we can match!” Matilda continued, completely ignoring Harry’s statement of the temperature.

Sighing, he nodded, knowing it was a lost cause to argue right now, she would get her skirt anyway. He could at least convince her to wear a pair of leggings underneath.

_

Ironically, it was Harry who was freezing when they arrived at the park, the pink hoodie doing nothing to shield him from the breeze, his loose-fitting blue trousers rather aggressively trying to follow the cold wind. One hand was tightly clasped in Matilda’s smaller one, swinging back and forth as they made their way towards a bench where Louis sat.

He looked good. Actually, screw that, he looked really good in sunglasses and a day-old stubble. His focus was on his phone, grasped in an enticing hand, long fingers rapidly typing something that made his face contract into an unsatisfied expression, his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration.

Harry was dead. Completely gone, after five seconds in his vicinity Harry was as good as a puddle of melted butter. God he needed to get a grip.

Louis earlier agitated expression was wiped from his face when he met Harry’s gaze, a soft smile replacing it, eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses. He stood up, a small ‘Hi’ being shared between the two adults before Matilda tugged the man down to her hight.

“Hi LouLou, I missed you! You need to be with us oftener, this was too long, okay?” Matilda nodded her head before Louis even had the chance to respond, like she knew what the answer would be. Harry was to blame for the nickname, something he probably shouldn’t have let slip out in front of her, because now it was stuck. But oh well, it was cute.

Louis barely got to greet her before she started to ramble. He nodded along to sentences starting with ‘Oh, Lou, you won’t believe this!’ and humming along while she explained that Harry couldn’t get her a unicorn for her birthday, Matilda apparently believed it was because her Papa couldn’t talk to the fairies, obviously.

Before they knew it, she was whisked away to the sandbox, Harry could see the blond curly head of Oscar playing with her, so he let them be.

Sitting down on the bench, Harry crossed his legs as Louis rested his hands on his knees, the right one bouncing quickly as they sat in silence.

“You’ve been good since last week?” He asked, eyes pointed towards him and a smile still on his face, although it looked more uncomfortable now.

“Yeah, you?” Harry nodded while trying to get an annoying strand of hair out of his face, it constantly blowing in his field of sight thanks to the wind.

“Alright, yeah,” he answered, drumming his fingers on his pants before looking up at the sky for a moment.

When the silence had stretched far too long, Harry decided to just spit it out. They’d both agreed on communication being the most in important thing in their co-parenting and all that was their lives, but he still wasn’t sure where they stood.

“So, like, just to be clear,” he began, Louis turning his whole body towards him. “I- I know we barely know each other anymore, but I would really like to get to know you again?” The man nodded before Harry could even finish, relieving the uncertainty inside him.

“I’d really like that, to be honest, I think we’re both at fault for not keeping contact, God, there’s so many times where I should’ve called you but didn’t. But honestly? I’ve really missed you, H, and I’d really like to be your friend again,” Louis responded, serious as ever as they held eye contact.

“I’ve missed you too, so much,” Harry whispered.

“Yeah?” A beautiful, hopeful expression coming forwards as Louis opened his arms, embracing each other with warmth they’d both missed for so long.

__

The conversation played over and over in Louis’ head, every word a mantra to him by now. Because yeah, they’d only been ‘friends’ for three days, but it mattered. It mattered so incredibly much because it was Harry. And their friendship had always been something sacred. And to have that back was the best feeling in the world. Getting to know the twenty-eight-year-old Harry was amazing, as amazing as he’d been back when they were teenagers, if not even better.

And no matter how many pictures of flowers or silly selfies he got, he was always hit by how much he had truly missed Harry. This wonderful man with hazardous green eyes and dimpled smile that was so charming Louis would do anything to see it. And not only was the man so pretty that Zeus or whatever his name was, was probably jealous, his insides were just as mesmerizing. The intelligence, never ending kindness and care he put into everything was so utterly hypnotizing Louis was honestly worried for himself.

And he probably should be, considering it had only been three days since they became ‘friends’ again.

A message pinged while he pondered, sheets ruffling under him as he searched for his phone.

‘Good morning! Ready to play twenty questions??’

A picture of a sleepy Matilda, dressed in a white cardigan over a cute dress and unicorn slippers, along with a monkey plushie on the kitchen island was attached to the text.

Louis’ heart surely couldn’t take much more, especially not when a second picture came through, a pouting Harry with two fingers up in a peace sign.

‘ready as I’ll ever be, if we must…’

He answered, having promised Harry he would do this today. It was completely the younger man’s idea, arguing that they didn’t know each other at all anymore, and what better way to learn everything than from a classic game of 20 questions?

When Harry’s first question of if he still took his tea the same way, he answered with

‘lame question Haz, thought you could do better than that’

And a minute later, when he realized that he hadn’t really answered the question, added

‘oh and yes still drink it the same way’

Harry instantly replied, Louis almost certain a small pout adorned his lips.

‘Well, do better yourself then, if my questions aren’t any good.’

Louis laughed as he sat up, sheet falling from his shoulders, his arms stretching above his head as he sighed out. The sun was poking through his curtains, almost like it was smiling at him. And it may turn out to be a great Saturday.

_

And damn it, Liam could really ruin any day with his awful running, even a fine Saturday morning. Who even goes for a run at ten in the morning? His friend and manager was delirious if he believed Louis would be happy about it.

As soon as he got home again, released from the health freak’s claws, he collapsed on the sofa, checking his phone for messages.

‘Cookies and cartoons… Ready to answer my questions?’

The picture which accompanied the message, Matilda’s face covered in cookie dough with Harry’s nose coated in flour, did something funny to Louis’ insides. Butterflies be damned, more like a herd of lions roaring up a storm.

They had been friends for three days. Three days, Louis.

It wasn’t time for butterflies and lions yet.

‘fucking wonderful after the run liam forced me on’

Louis settled on answering, an arm laid over his head as he waited for a reply, gathering strength to shower.

‘You still got to answer my question! And running is good for you, Lou.’

Yeah, their game of 20 question had not been finished yet, with Louis having to run before being able to answer the twelfth. So far, he knew that Harry was an English and psych teacher (Harry insisted on calling it psychology though), he enjoyed baking and riding (horses, yeah, he was immature and had made some jokes in his head, he himself thought he was a comical mastermind) and teaching their cat, Ace, tricks even though the cat never understood what Harry wanted from him.

‘Well, it sounds much better if you say im challenging the social norms and our past english teachers and therefore not abiding grammatical rules’

He waited a few seconds before following up.

‘But im just lazy when typing and hated that spelling correction thing. One sounded cooler than the other though, so you choose’

Harry answered two minutes later, Louis had absolutely not counted the seconds.

‘You know, as an English teacher your messages hurt my soul.’

‘Glad i could help, love’

Louis considered adding a cheeky wink but concluded that to be too childish. He realizes he is a bit immature, but he doesn’t want to be an embarrassment as well, so he decides not to.

__

The second time they meet at the park, Harry feels less nervous and more excited to meet Louis. They’ve talked for over two weeks before they both could find a day that worked. Matilda quickly runs once again to the sandbox to play with Oscar and another friend.

Her parents opted for walking the path around the playground this time, always in eyesight of Matilda but far enough away for some privacy from the other parents.

“You’ve been good since last week?” Louis asks when they’ve walked for a bit, looking at him. Harry starts giggling though, a hand coming up to shield his grin.

“What?” Louis demands, hands on his hips as a smile threatens to take form on his lips, still clueless to what the younger man is laughing about.

“I’m sorry, it’s just- do you start every conversation that way?” Harry obviously couldn’t hold it together any longer, Louis was sure tears would soon be running down his cheeks from his genius humour.

“Haha, very funny,” Louis sarcastically clapping his hands, although his lips were lifted upwards, amused. They continued their slow stroll, the green-eyed jokingly shoving Louis’ shoulder before wiping under his eyes, as if to check for tears.

“No, but honestly, I’ve—I’ve been good. Really liked getting to know you,” Harry said, his cheeks blooming a rosy red when Louis faced him.

“Yeah?” He smiled gently, the curly haired confirming with a soft nod.

“I’ve really liked it too,” Louis whispered, a hand clasping around his. They both turned to watch Matilda and her friends, still playing in the sandbox where they left her. Slowly, oh so slowly, Louis felt the weight of Harry leaning into him, his arms circling around the taller man. He wasn’t aware of what spurred the impromptu hug, but he would soak up every minute he got like this.

Suddenly, Harry tensed, Louis looking in front of them to notice two girls moving purposefully towards them. He slowly broke apart from Harry, immediately hit with soured hints of lemon.

He hadn’t caught much of Harry’s scent before, always wearing scent blockers. So far, he knew his scent was a bit fruity, especially lemon-y when upset along with something more milk-like, almost coconut smelling.

“It’s alright babe, everything’s fine,” Louis whispered into Harry’s hair, a subtle kiss planted in it before they completely broke apart.

Harry looked so painstakingly uncomfortable though, so much so that Louis was hopeless in resisting taking his hand before greeting the two girls now only metres away.

The man kept standing to Louis’ left side, offering to take the picture when the girls wanted a photo. As quick as possible though, Louis led Harry in the opposite direction of his fans, towards Matilda and the sandbox.

They sat down on the same bench they’d sat on weeks ago, a quick look at Harry’s phone telling them they’d been there for a while already.

In the silence that followed Louis’ thoughts became more and more overwhelming. “I’m sorry,” he blurted when he couldn’t take it anymore. Harry raised an eyebrow in response, a curl gently lolling from side to side in front of right cheek in the wind.

“For what?” curious eyes stared into his.

He didn’t want to apologize for his fans because he truly loved them and their support, but truth was, Harry never signed up for this. He just told Louis it was okay for him to meet his daughter; never did he say he wanted any of it to get out to the rest of the world, and that’s really what he had been subjecting him to every time they went out in public together.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Louis spoke as his hands dragged down his face, feeling the warm skin beneath the palms of his hands, smelling hints of Harry’s coconut induced scent, probably from when they held hands. The urge of bringing his hands up to his nose for a long sniff was barely controllable.

“Lou, for what?” Harry tried again, his own voice urgent as worry broke out onto his face, wrinkled between his eyebrows and wide eyes open to the world, taking in Louis’ form.

“I’ve just forced them onto you, haven’t I?” When the man still looked confused, Louis continued. “I’m so sorry Haz, you didn’t sign up for this. Hell, Matilda surely didn’t sign up for this! Oh, Haz, I’ve fucked up, haven’t I?” His hands came up to rest over his neck, biting his lip as he slouched in his place on the bench.

Harry was silent for a few moments, nose crinkled as he thought before a laugh came out of him, startling Louis to look over, puzzled.

“Oh, Lou, you’re nothing if not dramatic, you know that, right?” He said, amused with a youthful smile on his face.

“I’m serious Harry!”

“And I’m too, Louis! You don’t have to be sorry, it’s not your fault. I knew this could happen, and if I wasn’t okay with it, I wouldn’t have suggested meeting in a public park, okay?” His eyes gentle as they gazed on Louis, waiting for confirmation that he had heard, understood what he’d said.

Louis nodded and looked down, a sheepish expression breaking through before meeting Harry’s eyes again. “I am pretty dramatic, yeah?” he asked, the only answer he got was the younger man bringing him in for a hug, chuckling an “Oh, Lou” into his hair.

And that scent he didn’t get the chance to appreciate fully before returned tenfold, coconut invading his senses along with a sweet note of fruitiness, perhaps oranges?

Louis wished he could stay in their long embrace forever, the gentleness of Harry’s soft curls tickling his nose as his hand cradled the green-eyed man’s back, feeling the steady rise and fall following his breathing, his head resting on Louis’ shoulder, surely breathing in his darker, rain filled forest-y scent.

And oh, what he would do stay here.

__

“Hi, I’m so sorry,” Louis hadn’t even had time to put the phone up to his ear before Harry started apologizing. “This is short notice, I know, but could you possibly watch Matilda today? She’s sick and I’ve got a meeting I can’t skip and a bunch of lessons with no one being able to cover, and I know this is so, so short notice, but I just thought I should-“

“Darling, hi, take a deep breath yeah?” Louis cut in, trying to process Harry’s rambling.

“I’m free today,” he began to answer, talking slower, more carefully, than even Harry usually did. “So I can definitely take care of Matilda if you feel safe with me doing that?” he approached gently, already gathering his sock and looking around for the keychain with both his and Harry’s apartment keys, Harry’s for emergencies, the man had told him.

“Really, thank you Lou, I’m sorry I didn’t give you much warning,” he sounded relieved at the other end of the line, Louis already in his Vans and closing the door. He took a deep breath as he sat down in the driver’s seat, gathering himself for the day ahead.

_

Stepping into the flat, the first thing he noticed was sniffles coming from Harry’s bedroom along with whines from Matilda. “Don wan’ you to go,” she wailed as Louis made it to the doorway, taking in the scene.

His daughter was bundled up in fluffy blankets and propped up on the bed, tissues gathered in a pile on the floor besides a bedside table, a lamp casting a gentle glow in the room with curtains still closed.

“Oh baby, Papa has to go, sweetie, but LouLou will be here the whole day,” Harry spoke, hugging his child close to his chest. Louis could see the strain it was putting on Harry to leave Matilda like this, how much it hurt to walk out the door and go to work. And he was so impressed by the strength the man possessed to be able to do that. Louis could never.

 _

He wasn’t exactly surprised when Matilda threw up the first time, having cried over her stomach despite medicine for an hour. It was painful to watch her struggle though, and he understood how hard this much be for her too, to both be away from her Papa and being sick.

He flung his shirt, soiled with snot and vomit, somewhere on the floor before bringing Matilda back into his embrace, softly shushing her as she cried herself exhausted. Ace came stumbling in at some point, curious about the commotion. He announced his presence with a ‘meow’, attempting to climb up on the bed but managing to tangle himself into the sheets and fall to the floor. Matilda tiredly laughed at the cat’s antics, sniffling while mumbling an ‘oh, Ace’.

When she fell asleep, having mumbled a ‘I miss Papa’ that brought just a few tears to Louis’ eyes, he carefully got out of the bed to wash himself off, as well as clean up the mess.

To borrow a shirt from Harry proved itself to be harder than first thought, when entering the wardrobe, the only Louis could see was suits, in all colours, patterns, with matching and unmatching pants.

“Holy mother fucker of Jesus,” he whispered as he looked around, no normal clothes in sight.

“How many suits is a person allowed to own?” He didn’t even entertain the thought of counting them all.

“You’re in the wrong one, LouLou,” Matilda spoke, still in bed but watching him with curious eyes, the unicorn tucked under her arm. He whipped around fast enough to probably give him whiplash, hand held over his heart.

“You scared me, darling,” he chuckled, breathing out while Matilda giggled. She pointed to a door to the left of the wardrobe he was in, finding normal clothes inside. He thanked her before getting some clothes and changing, Matilda sleeping calmly again by the time he was finished.

_

The hair was tangled beneath his fingers as Matilda continued to try to instruct him. “And now you take the other one-“ Louis had to interrupt, because he had three ‘other ones’ and honestly, since when was it so much hair to braid?

“The other one from before, I don’t know which one you did last time, Lou,” she sighed while Louis looked down at the mess he had made. Grabbing the brush to detangle the bird nest, he asked Matilda to start over again.

When he finally got the hang of it, the child asked him to make two pigtails, speaking while Louis started on the first one, separating it into equal chunks of hair.

“Do you know how to kiss, LouLou?” the kid had no shame, Louis had come to learn. He hummed in response, crossing the outer piece over the middle one, as Matilda had taught him.

“How does it feel?” she sighed dreamily as the older checked he had a scrunchie on his arm, ready to tie his masterpiece off.

“Well, I guess it depends on who you kiss, love,” he wasn’t sure this was something he wanted to discuss with his three-year-old, but her puppy eyes were even less resistible than Harry’s, so he didn’t have much choice.

“Who do you kiss, Lou?” Her question was innocent, voice soft with her head leaned on her hand as Louis started on the next braid, brushing the hair out.

“Not a lot of people right now,” and wasn’t that a depressing statement, especially in front of his own child. She probably had more action than he did.

“Do you have a girlfriend, LouLou?” He thought about how to phrase his answer, knowing how important of a topic it was, and not wanting to screw anything up.

“Well, I’ve got friends who are girls, does that answer your question?” He approached softly, Matilda shaking her head in response, making him restart the entire second braid again.

“Uhm, but if you’re asking about like, if I’m together with someone,” the child nodded, and Louis was able to keep the hair in place this time. “Then, no, I’m not,” he considered if he should continue or not.

“And I don’t really like girls in that way,” he added gently moments later, Matilda’s face lightening up in realization.

“Do you like boys? Like Papa?” she seemed excited at understanding the concept, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah, exactly,” he smiled and nodded, checking for a second scrunchie, this one pink. He could probably work on his hairstyling skills, no way was he near Harry’s level of skill, but he thought he did a pretty good job, especially considering he was instructed by his own daughter, no offence to Matilda, though.

“Can I have a boyfriend, LouLou?” She asked suddenly, thrilled at the idea.

Finishing up the hair, he hummed in response, not really knowing what he should answer. He wasn’t thrilled with the thought of his three-year-old Matilda dating. She could at least wait until 20. Preferably until 30.

When Harry walked through the door, they were still talking, Matilda proudly showing her hair to her Papa before being bundled down in blankets again, asked to take a nap.

_

“Fuck, you gotta get a lift,” Louis exclaimed from the hallway as he closed the door, panting and bending down to place the grocery bags on the floor. He had offered himself to go shopping when he took in how exhausted Harry really seemed.

A pot slammed in the kitchen, the man was probably making tea or baking something. Matilda was still out cold from her nap, they both hoping the sleep could help battle her illness.

“I don’t think it’s me who decides that, Lou,” Harry answered while Louis walked into the flat. Harry was breathtaking as always, having changed into an untucked band t-shirt peeking out from under a sweater, his pants wide legged and showing off his delicate ankles.

A beeping sound brought him out of his ogling, Harry turning around to bring something out of the oven. The smell of banana covered the kitchen in its sweetness, Louis mouth salivating at the thought of a bite.

“Okay, so…there’s tea ready, I made some chocolate chip cookies with Matilda yesterday, and obviously the banana bread, but that one’s probably a bit too hot right now.” Harry pointed and looked around as he spoke, fishing up a spoon from a drawer and bringing two cups out of the cupboard above the sink.

He placed them down and smiled, hands tied in front of him, looking everything like the sixteen-year-old boy Louis got to know all those years ago. His sky-blue hoodie reached down over his hands, creating adorable sweater paws. Curls unruly and smile spreading light like he was the fucking sun on a bright summer day.

It was unfair really, to every other living creature who had to stop and stare.

Louis could only nod in response to Harry when he remembered to answer, the other man pouring tea and taking one cookie before settling down on the sofa.

“Do you wanna watch something or continue playing?” He spoke loudly while Louis took his mug and stole a bite from the banana bread before sitting down besides Harry, a cookie in his hand. A soft, blue and yellow blanket draped over his feet a minute later.

They settled on some weird reality show none of them understood as background noise as Harry thought of a question, still not having finished their now rather long game of 20 questions.

“I can start of if it’s so hard, Harold,” Louis teased, stopping the rhythmic noise of his fingers drumming on thighs.

“But then I get two questions in a row after!” He warned, a grin on the most beautiful lips Louis had ever seen. And fuck, he was meant to be playing a game, not stare at Harry’s impeccable lips.

It was so damn hard to try and focus with Harry in front of him, someone should give him an award for even trying. 

Harry’s hands flew as they exchanged questions and answers back and forth, knees gradually released from where they were drawn inwards towards his chest.

Somewhere in the middle their eyes met on the sofa, Harry’s glittering green shining bright into Louis’ brilliant blue, almost pulling them towards each other.

Louis moved, coming closer, invading the other man’s personal space as he angled himself towards him, now faces barely avoiding touching. They stared, noticing the soft circles of tiredness, probably from the restless night Matilda had, in turn waking up her dad more than once.

His eyelashes were so incredibly long, proudly lifting from his eyelids, framing the masterpiece that was his blend of greens and subtle brown hues, his pupils slightly dilated, aimed straight at Louis.

“You’ve got pretty eyes,” he breathed out, whispering before cradling Harry’s cheek with his hand. He moved gently, giving the other man the choice to back out.

Instead, he leaned in, soft lips meeting Louis’ own. If it was a fairytale, Louis was sure sparks would be flying and fireworks lighted, animals breaking out in enchanting songs and butterflies flying all around, lions stomping, presenting the feeling in his stomach, like a zoo.

The kissed stayed soft. Perfect for being the first after so many years. 

__

If it had been awkward, breaking away from his kiss with Harry and still spend an entire afternoon with him?

It was a difficult question to answer, according to Louis.

Did the first five seconds of silence while staring into each other’s eyes feel a bit uncomfortable?

Definitely.

Did the laugh they shared after those moments make relief spread through his whole body? Was he still longing to taste Harry’s mouth like a fucking teenager experiencing his first rut? Were they both red cheeked and smiling shyly before leaning in again?

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Did they stop after that kiss and continue talking?

Unfortunately, also yes.

They both knew they needed to have a conversation before they could take anything further. But it reassured Louis a little, to know that the attraction wasn’t one sided, that there could be more in the future.

Surprisingly enough, the afternoon hadn’t been ruined with awkwardness after it. Louis actually felt more comfortable with Harry, and they were finding their way to friends again, fitting together just as well as they did when they were younger.

An energetic Matilda came tumbling through the hallway sometime after four, a card in her hand for Louis to have, coughing as she handed it over.

Louis managed to catch his tears before they fell, thanking her profusely and getting a long hug with his daughter in return.

__

Louis stayed for dinner when Matilda asked him so sweetly, hands behind her back and dimpled smile pouting at him, carbon copy of his father. Shiny blue eyes reminded Louis of his own, with crinkles whenever she smiled and long lashes.

They took their places at a sturdy wooden table, a small assemble of flowers in a vase in the middle, flowers Louis had surprised Harry with earlier in the week. Two candles were lit while Matilda directed Louis to his place, opposite to Harry.

And Harry’s cooking had only gotten better over time, a pasta dish Louis wouldn’t ever remember the name of but tasted so good he almost moaned.

“Can I have a boyfriend, Papa?” Matilda blurted out casually, the two men both freezing their movement, Harry nearly spitting water over the entire table as he cocked his head towards their daughter.

“I’m sorry, what?” He asked in disbelief, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets, Louis exchanging a look with him, shrugging his shoulders.

“I asked if I could have a boyfriend.”

Innocent eyes looked up at them, lips smiling on the right side, her head tilted and eyebrows furrowed as she took in the expression on the adults’ faces.

“Oh sweetie, are you interested in someone?” Harry asked, hands stroking her shoulder as his smile turned into something warm, lips pressed together and eyes loving.

Matilda gave a non-bothered shrug in response before answering. “I think Oscar is my boyfriend,” making water splutter out of Louis’ mouth and Harry’s expression morphing into one of surprise.

She nodded while the two men stared at her, satisfied with the conversation and soon tugging on Harry’s cardigan, asking if they could have ice cream.

__

A wine glass was struck in front of him as he continued drying the dishes from dinner, just having placed a few on their shelf. And yeah, maybe Harry had teased him a bit for having to stand on his toes to be able to reach, but that was neither here nor there.

“But she’s young, Harold,” he repeated, almost whining as they talked, dragging out the words.

“Yeah exactly! She’s three, it doesn’t mean anything, Lou,” a stern eye was directed at Louis for his theatrics, something the older was beginning to refer to as his ‘parenting look’. “And,” he continued, “if anyone’s getting hurt, it’s going to be Oscar,” he concluded, air of finality in his voice.

“Even the name’s shit on the boy,” Louis grumbled, Harry just laughing at his sour mood.

A blush coated his neck, advancing upwards when Harry said something about him being cute and protective. He mumbled a few words in response, never reaching Harry’s ears. The man bumped their hips together instead before they continued to clen up the kitchen.

Ands Louis would walk around with blush on his cheeks all day, every day, for continuing this domestic bliss with Harry, cuteness be damned.

_

“Can you choose a song?” A phone was handed to him as Harry asked. 

“That’s a horrible amount of pressure to put on me, H!” Louis gasped, hand resting over his heart as he looked back at the man.

“Just pick something. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He turned around, opening the dishwasher and loading it with a plate.

He searches through Harry’s playlists, a smile taking over when he finds a playlist titled ‘Lou’ with all his songs. He pressed play on ‘Perfect Now’, smirking up at Harry who was frozen in place, back towards Louis and a bowl in hand.

“You’re very cute, H,” Louis returned the words from before, Harry hiding his face in his hands, groaning as the volume turns up.

“Wanna dance?” The man suddenly asks as the chorus is starting, a shy smile on his lips.

“You know I can’t dance for shit, Harold!” Louis exclaims, looking seriously offended by the idea of dancing.

“Yeah…Still, you can try,” Harry shrugs his shoulders. And okay, Louis won’t pass up on an opportunity to be close to the man in front of him.

“Alright, bring it on, Curly,” he says, mock serious, offering his hands as they meet in the middle of the kitchen.

_

“I don’t think this is a dancing song, love,” he whispers after a while, Harry giggling in response, buried into Louis’ shoulder.

“No, you don’t have a lot of dancing songs. Maybe you should write one, Lou?” he murmurs, soft hands around Louis’ middle as they sway, fluffy curls tickling his chin.

“Not sure if that’s my style, darling,” Louis answers, drawing circles over Harry’s back, feeling the hot touch of a sliver of uncovered skin between his shirt and flowy pants.

“Dancing is everyone’s style,” Harry whispered back, his curls against Louis as they continued to sway, definitely not to the right rhythm, but it didn’t matter. All that meant something was Harry’s warmth on Louis’ shoulder, and the careful steps around a kitchen filled with love and unwashed dishes.

__

“And a special good morning to our guest, Louis Tomlinson!”

Harry heard the radio chant in the car, interest peaking and turning up the volume. Louis had told him not to listen to it, ‘because it was just a load of fuckin’ bullshit, who even listens to these things?’ but Harry was curious. And who wouldn’t want to start the day with a healthy dose of Louis Tomlinson’s’ voice?

The interview itself was over fairly quickly, a few silly questions asked and Louis joking with whoever was the host of the radio show (Harry had been too focused on the slight rasp in Louis’ morning voice to pay attention to any names), but Harry’s mind hadn’t stopped running.

After the weeks he had experienced with the man, in complete privacy save for a few moments with fans when they were out in parks, he was just now recognizing the fact that Louis really was a celebrity, a public man who everyone wanted a piece of.

And it was frankly terrifying to stand beside him, watching everything and knowing that Harry, and Matilda, was related to him and could potentially be exposed to the fame.

Was he so in his head that he forgot to lock his car and had to run back to it before classes started?

Maybe.

Did the new doubt change the fact that he both wanted to continue their friendship and fancied the man?

No.

He was certain that he wanted to continue things like they were progressing right now. But he was also aware that they needed to have a conversation about it.

Was this how it was to be a responsible adult wanting to have a healthy relationship? So. Much. Talking.

__

If Harry Styles calls on a Thursday night asking if you want to come over in an hour, you always answer yes.

This time though, it wasn’t entirely because of that rule, or his own excitement over seeing the man again, but more so the voice that had softly invited him over the phone, riddled with anxiety. Louis could practically see the furrowed brows and how he worried his lip, eyes troubled as he waited for Louis’ response.

It was slightly alarming, the ‘yes’ Louis would always answer with to Harry’s questions, but oh well.

Standing in front of the walnut-coloured door, he wondered if he should be nervous, because Harry’s tone when calling had been slightly worrisome. But he figured the only thing he could do to find put was entering the flat, so he stepped in, the door unlocked as always, no matter how many times Louis reminded him of how unsafe it was.

“Harry?” he called out, waiting to hear a ‘here!’ in response, but it never came. He felt his heart rate spike as he stepped further into the flat, his shoes tipped off at the door as normal. He took in the living room first, the TV off and blanket thrown over the back of the couch, no doubt Harry had cleaned before Louis got here.

No signs of present Harry though, so he turned around and looked around the kitchen, now hearing small sniffles behind the island. He walked slowly around it, finding Harry with his knees drawn up to his chest, tears running down his cheeks as he struggled to hold in his hiccups.

His eyes were red as they looked up at Louis, swallowing before meeting his eyes. And the sight made Louis feel utterly broken, desperate to help, make things better, soothe the boy in front of him.

He crouched down on the floor, silent question in his eyes before sliding towards Harry, bringing the man into his embrace, his black hoodie bunching up as he hugged Louis tightly. A wet patch was already forming on his right shoulder, curly hair tickling his cheeks as he nuzzled into the joint between neck and shoulder.

His alpha begged to come out to play, wanting to soothe the omega as much as Louis wanted to soothe Harry, but he couldn’t allow his alpha that control. Not when they hadn’t talked about anything, not when Harry had never given consent to being scented or treated like that.

When the tears dialled down, Harry fully straddling Louis’ lap as they sat on the floor, his back against the kitchen island and Harry’s arms around him, a peace settled in. Their breathing synced together as they collected themselves, fully comfortable in the silence that followed.

“I’m sorry,” was quietly whispered into his neck, cold air hitting him when Harry started to break free from his hold, but only after what Louis guessed was Harry’s lips against his neck, a gentle kiss raising goosebumps on the skin.

“Don’t apologize, love,” Louis answered, slight raise in the corners of his lips as his eyes carefully smiled that soft Louis-smile.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, a pretty, rosy colour blooming on his cheeks before he wiped under his eyes, blinking slowly. It was like watching a baby waking up, adorable in the most enticing was possible.

Louis chuckled as soon as he heard the response, Harry also seeming to catch up on what he answered with, both smiling when their eyes met.

“Wanna tell me what you were upset about?” He knew he should tread lightly, especially when the man stiffened in front of him, eyes slightly bulging out of their sockets.

“Can we go sit on the sofa?” he pleaded softly, Louis’ nodding before standing up, nothing elegant about it. He offered his hand to Harry, who somehow, even with lanky legs and coordination like Matilda, managed to look graceful.

Ace greeted them on his search for food as they walked to the sofa, a piercing meow to Louis’ ‘Hello’ before he strolled towards his water bowl.

Harry crossed his legs as Louis got comfortable on the other end of the couch.

“I listened to your interview,” he started, Louis nodding with eyebrows shot up, leg bouncing while he listened. It was obvious he tried to keep it still, but the man had never managed before, and today wouldn’t be the first day either.

“It just- I know you told me not to listen to it, but it was on the radio on my way to work, and I couldn’t resist. But it just got me back to the real world, you know? I think it really sunk in, everything- like you’re… you! You’re fantastic and shit and millions of people write freaking love poems or something,” Louis let out a chuckle in response, soft smile present on his face. Harry immediately jumped backwards, throwing his hands in the air. “I don’t know what fangirls do these days!” he tried to defend himself. “And then I, started to panic because I’m pretty sure I want to stay with you in some way, and I know Matilda won’t let you leave now and it’s all so…- sorry, I’m a bit of a mess, no?” Harry sniffled wetly, wiping a stray tear before continuing.

“But like, it just freaked me out a bit, knowing who you are to everyone else, and I’m not sure I want Matilda to be everyone’s business, I’d rather she makes that decision for herself when she’s old enough, but then, how could this possibly work, and all thinking was just a bit too much, and the kitchen floor called my name in the middle of my sad song playlist, and I didn’t check the time, and now you have to deal with this,” he sighed, hiding his face in his hands and looking downwards.

“Hey,” Louis gently brought his attention to him. “I completely understand your fear, I know it’s not everyone’s lifestyle. But I promise you, if you want to give this a try, Matilda can be kept out of it- hell, you can even be kept out of it, although you’ve already been spotted with me- my point is, everything can be solved if you want to.” A hand reached out to touch Harry’s thigh, the words and touch calming him down quicker than he’d ever manage on his own.

A few beats of silence followed, Harry focusing on his breathing, seeming to be in his own world.

“Do you want to?” hesitantly, the question was asked, inquiring eyes meeting the blue of Louis’.

“Want to what, love?” he countered with, drawing patterns with the fingers still on Harry’s leg.

“Want to solve it, give this a try?” dark rings under the man’s eyes contrasted against the pale skin and framing lashes, skin glistening from earlier tears. A small speckle of something under the inside of his right eye, perhaps a fallen eyelash?

“It would make me extremely happy, but I’d understand if you don’t want to or believe the risks are too big,” he held eye contact as he spoke, sincere while the scenario pained him.

“Am I a bad parent if I say I want it too?”

“Oh baby,” Louis squeezed Harry’s thigh once. “In my opinion, not at all. She can be as hidden as you want to. I’ve got some detectives for fans, but I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to keep her as safe as possible and away from the public, okay?”

Harry nodded in response, resting his head on Louis’ shoulder. It was probably uncomfortable, so he angled his body more towards Harry. His front against the curly man’s back in a kind of backwards hug.

“So like, just to be clear,” Harry started, shy smile looking up at him from behind thick curtains of lashes and flushed face, twisting one of his rings as he licked his lips. “You- you want to do this with me? Like, relationship thingy?” Curls falling from their place behind his ears as he turned around to fully face Louis.

A lamp beside the TV was lit, lightening up Harry’s hue of smooth skin, mixed with bumps and ridges confirming him as real, something Louis had a hard time believing.

“I really want to do this relationship thingy with you,” teasing eyes and upcurved lips playfully answered, tucking a curl that was hindering his view.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis confirmed, definite nod and gentle hands circling Harry’s own as they looked at each other.

__

“Okay Matilda, no discussion, you are wearing pants today,” Harry spoke as the girl walked into his wardrobe, holding out two dress options -without pants- despite her father’s words. He sighed as he looked between the two, one lilac with ruffles and one green with ribbons.

“Take the purple one, but with leggings under, okay?” The child nodded, satisfied and walking out to give her father some privacy to choose his clothes.

He was going to meet Louis’ friends, and they were in turn meeting Matilda and Zayn. Since they had Matilda with them, they agreed on meeting in Harry’s flat instead of some restaurant. Because Louis still hadn’t learned to cook, and Harry refused the idea of takeout (he wanted to leave a good first impression after all), he was cooking, and Louis was coming over before everyone else to ‘help’.

-

Unsurprisingly, Harry was a nervous wreck five minutes before everyone was going to show up, and just then Liam pinged the door. It wasn’t an awkward encounter per say, not with Louis and Matilda helping, but Harry didn’t really come out of his shell until Niall and Zayn showed up.

Niall was, according to Harry, a ball of energy with a heart that would put anyone at ease, while Liam was more of a sweet puppy with a scary complexion. They both were endlessly charmed by Matilda in her two braids and purple dress, proudly leading them inside the flat and showing off their home.

Harry returned to the kitchen when he trusted Louis and Zayn enough to hold a conversation on their own. He knew Zayn would go total mama bear on Louis for the first ten minutes, but he really thought they could hit it off after that. If Louis survived Zayn’s overprotective mode, that is.

_

Louis was being stared at. And he had no idea how to start a conversation with the man currently frowning at him from across the room. Luckily, Zayn seemed to rescue him from that issue.

“You’re Louis.” It was a statement. Louis didn’t know what to answer with, but he settled for a nod as they met in the middle of the small entryway.

Zayn’ expression hardened as he brough a finger up in the air, intimidating as he spoke. “I want you to know, if you ever break him again, you’re not going to live a pretty life,” it wasn’t even a threatening tone, more of a serious whisper if anything, but Louis still felt a chill running down his spine.

It warmed something in him to know that Harry had someone as fierce of a protector as Zayn, even in the years when Louis hadn’t been there.

They both turned towards the kitchen, Harry happily humming along to a song as he peered into the oven, in his own world, totally oblivious to the conversation they were having a few metres away.

Louis smiled for a bit, allowing him to take in the sight of his Harry. His boyfriend, Harry.

“Okay?” Zayn’s expression sober, the concern for his friend touching as Louis met his eyes again.

“Yeah, never going to happen,” Louis started, eyes shining as they glanced at Harry again. “I promise you,” he whispered in answer, a pleased smile greeting the other man’s lips.

A hand was struck out in front of him, as his now softer eyes met Louis’.

 “I’m Zayn.”

“I’m aware,” Louis smirked, holding his own hand out for a strong handshake before they both chuckled, joining Harry in the kitchen.

_

“Do you have a boyfriend, Niall?” Beer nearly flew out of his mouth as the brunette’s eyes widened, sputtering a “sorry?” to Matilda.

“Everyone else said they liked boys, do you not?” Matilda frowned, twirling a lock of hair as Harry sighed with his head in his hands.

“Matilda, you can’t just ask people if they’ve got boyfriends, darling,” he pleaded, knowing his weak statement wouldn’t make any difference.

“But why, Papa? Nothing’s gonna happen,” tilting her head, she shrugged before turning to Niall again.

“So do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, I do neither have a boyfriend nor girlfriend right now,”

“Why?” her elbows came to rest up on the table, chin in her left hand as she studied Niall, Harry shaking his head in the background.

“I don’t know, guess I haven’t found the girl yet,” he shrugged, Matilda humming as she turned to Zayn.

“Do you have someone, uncle Zee?” she leaned forwards as Zayn quickly glanced at Liam before answering.

“No, not right now, dear, do you?” Zayn shifted towards the little girl, knowing she talked last week about Oscar while on the phone with her uncle.

“You know I do!”

Harry met blue eyes, holding in a laugh at his bothered expression. Louis still hadn’t gotten over the whole Oscar ‘debacle’.

“Don’t laugh at me!” he whispered, kicking Harry’s leg under the table.

“Sorry, but it is kind of funny,” he held up his hands in response as Matilda continued her conversation with their friends, proudly answering their questions and loving the attention.

“You think it can always be like this?” Harry whispered as Louis’ arms embraced him in a somewhat uncomfortable side hug while they listened.

“I really hope so,” Louis answered, kissing Harry’s temple as the rest of the group laughed at Matilda’s joke. And damn it, if Harry didn’t hope for it too.

__

Sleeping in Harry’s bed was like heaven, everything smelling like milky coconut and sweet oranges, making him properly at ease. It was so, so nice to wake up besides the man, breathing in curly hair bathed in strawberry shampoo and skin smelling of some face wash.

They had decided on going to bed after a proper snogging session, it being too late for Louis to take any busses home, and he didn’t have the heart to call his driver at one in the morning. So when Harry offered his bed, even proposing he could sleep on the sofa, (the absolutely ludicrous idea that he would let the sweet omega sleep on the couch almost made him laugh) they agreed on sharing the bed, both off to dreamland as soon as they touched the bed.

When he entered the kitchen though, Matilda sitting on a chair watching her dad make pancakes, instantly screaming “Lou!” when she saw him, he knew he was in it for some questions.

And oh boy, if the child had questions.

But perhaps, the most awkward one, was probably her asking “Are you like boyfriends now, LouLou?”. Because what do you answer? He had answered yes to trying this ‘relationship thingy’ with Harry, but did that mean they were boyfriends? Were they just dating without a label yet?

A quick glance at Harry, stumped by Matilda’s question, showed him a curious grin, raising his eyebrows when their eyes met.

“Uhm, something like that, yeah,” he decided to answer vaguely, the three years old tilting her head in response, one of her pigtails resting on her shoulder.

“What does he mean, papa?” She asked, looking at Harry with wide eyes, trying to understand Louis’ response.

The man himself was barely containing his laughter, uttering a ‘Oh, honey,’ before looking at Louis for help. He only shrugged in response, fully intending to leave this to Harry.

“Why don’t you ask him to explain, bug?” He carefully suggested, catching Louis’ look before Matilda turned to him.

“Lou, are you and Papa together, like me and Oscar?” She looked him dead serious in the eye while asking, crossing her arms in front of her. He looked at Harry for help again, the traitor shrugging with amusement clear in his eyes. Louis squinted at him, himself believing he looked quite threatening, but Harry only chuckled.

“Yeah, mhm, exactly sweetheart,” he looked up at the man he was supposedly together with, seeing him with eyes bulging, he wondered if it was the wrong thing to say, if he came on too strong?

The child tugged on his grey jumper and he immediately bended down to her level to listen to her whisper. “Do you and Papa kiss?” Her jaw slack and eyebrows shooting up as she scrunched her nose.

Louis laughed while asking, “you don’t like kisses?” He gasped, widening his eyes comically, Matilda laughing at his actions.

“No!” She giggled, even more so when Harry protested, stepping forward to tickle his daughter who shrieked when his fingers came in contact with her stomach.

__

“Papa, don’t want him to leave,” Matilda shrieked as the tears were slowly coming to an end, hugging Harry tightly.

“I know, but he’s got a job just like me, bug,” he kissed the top of her head, the feather like texture reminding him of Louis.

“When can we see Daddy again?”

Harry froze for a moment, stilling his hand running circles around Matilda’s back, trying to make sense of the sentence. There wasn’t much to make sense of, but that word caught him completely off guard. Nobody had told her anything, it was just her feeling safe enough and valuing Louis enough to call him that. And it was beautiful, and so, so amazing that Matilda trusted him and felt that way about her father. But it was also a bit terrifying, how attached she had gotten in the months they had spent together.

But Harry also knew he had to stop doubting everything, had to stop doubting Louis. They weren’t as young anymore; they had barely been adults when they left each other. They both were more mature now, Harry knew he wouldn’t have agreed to date Louis or for Matilda to become so dependent on the man if he didn’t trust that it would work out, that they wouldn’t leave each other without contact again. 

“Uhm, I don’t know honey, do you want to text him and ask?” Harry settled on; shock still evident on his face as he brought out his phone.

Matilda climbed onto his lap, looking down to the lockscreen of the three of them, picture taken a couple of weeks ago with Louis proudly holding Matilda, kissing one cheek while Harry kissed the other, the child shrieking in the middle.

__

“So… Are we gonna talk about it?” Louis carefully approached the subject, Harry immediately stilling, expression resembling a deer caught in headlights from his place on the deep green couch, a fluffy pillow resting in his lap.

When Harry didn’t respond, Louis continued before he lost his nerve and succumbed to Harry’s quietness.

“She called me her dad, yeah?” A nod answered him, Harry looking equally as scared as Louis felt, afraid to say something wrong.

“And how does that make you feel?” he continued, hoping he wasn’t doing terrible so far even if Harry hadn’t uttered a single word.

The man besides him snorted before uttering, “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” which Louis shrugged to.

“I think both of us can have feelings about this, love. If you tell me how you feel, I’ll be honest about how I feel, yeah?” They made eye contact as he spoke, and the angelic person with short curls cuddled into his shoulder, hands resting over his face for a second, as if he needed to physically bring himself together before he could brave the conversation. He was simply adorable, and Louis was willing to spend every breath he had dedicated to making him happy.

“I think-“ He paused, seemingly gathering his thoughts, wondering how to phrase and make sense of everything. “I think I’m honestly mostly anxious about how you’re feeling, but if you’re okay with it, it’s okay with me.” Louis looked relieved, breathing out before he started.

“If you’re okay with it, which I take it you are, then I’m really, really, happy about it,” he spoke, Harry’s arms having sneaked around him in a sort of awkward embrace, Louis’ head resting on top of soft curls while Harry’s face burrowed into his chest.

Harry eyes, full of admiration and hope, so soft and vulnerable as they sought Louis’ relieved ones.

They didn’t even need to nod, didn’t need any more confirmation, they were on the same page, both more than okay with Matilda’s choice of words.

Harry suddenly broke eye contact, contemplating if he should speak or not. 

“You know… It caused me to freak out a bit though,” Louis silently urged him to go on, patiently listening to his words. He nodded as he continued, “Yeah, ‘cause you know, it kind of made me realize how vulnerable this whole thing is. Because, if you ever left now, I don’t think-“ a tear traitorously escaped his left eye, leaving a salty taste in his mouth. “I don’t think neither Matilda nor I could make it, and how foolish have I’ve been as a parent to allow that? And how foolish am I to not stop it- not even want it to stop now that I’ve realized what’s happening?” His voice became higher in pitch, sniffling as he continued, heartbreakingly fighting through the sea of tears wanting to make their way down his rosy cheeks, stormy eyes meeting Louis’.

“I hear you darling, I understand where this is coming from and I know I probably shouldn’t be promising things this early, yeah? But I am too, extremely foolish, love, you know why?” Harry shook his head as he wiped under his nose.

“Because even though we only met, like, is it five months ago?” Harry nodded before Louis continued. “Yeah, and we’ve been together for a month, I can, with certainty, say that I want to spend a long, long time with you,” he almost whispered, caressing Harry’s face as a small gasp fell from his lips, light shining form those green things, eyebrows shot up and dimples out on display.

“And I, too, would break if something ever were to happen to this,” he added softly, Harry’s curls softly stroked, Harry’s pearl necklace reflecting the light in the room.

“And that’s pretty fucking scary, darling,” he continued, voice careful but slightly trembling, a mere mumble before soft lips met his.

When they stopped, Harry shyly looked at Louis through his lashes, licking his lips.

“You know what’s even scarier, Lou?” When he shook his head, Harry bashfully continued. “I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you,” the blue in the other man’s eyes shimmered in the light cast by a candle on the coffee table, the TV making no noise as he spoke. “And I don’t want to stop.”

“Yeah?” Louis asked for confirmation, smile gracing his lips as he bended down, waiting for a kiss.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded before meeting him, lips smacking as Harry fitted himself into Louis’ body.

__

“Here’s where Daddy will be tonight, baby,” he spoke, holding her on his hip as they walked out on the platform. Her hands were tangled deep in his curls, clinging to him like a koala among the new people and strange environment.

She didn’t speak, just looked around, trying to take it all in with her innocent blue eyes. They were widened in disbelief, just like her father’s did sometimes and Louis’ heart just burst from the amount of love and affection he had for the two.

From his place at the entry of the stage he saw how they walked around the space, Matilda looking down towards the barricade and sometimes whispering in Harry’s ear. All the equipment was already out, soundcheck being done and two hours left before the show. Lou would come chasing him down in moment or two, wanting to fix hair and makeup before he got all dressed up.

They had eaten at some restaurant Harry found, Louis trying something fancy, he had no idea what it was, but his boyfriend was happy and that’s what matters. Matilda, for her part, had been stuck to Louis’ side when they stepped inside, much like the koala tendencies she was showing Harry now. It had taken half an hour before she could sit in her own chair, still holding hands with her Daddy and sitting as close as physically possible.

It seemed she had inherited every single ounce of Harry’s shyness, and if he dared speak it was even worse than that.

When they left the restaurant Matilda spotted her dear friend, the blonde hair turning around when Matilda screamed ‘OSCAR!’ at the top of her lungs.

Louis still wasn’t so sure of the boy, even if Harry claimed he had no evil intent because he was three years old. Louis wasn’t convinced though. He could see how his boyfriend barely contained his laughter while they watched the encounter, seeing Louis’ discontent.

After saying hellos and goodbyes to both child and parents, they had somehow ended up at the venue.

And the damn man that was Harry fucking Styles managed to steal his breath every single time. His loose-fitting t-shirt was just a tiny bit see-through, and his arm muscles flexed as he was holding Matilda who was jumping up and down in excitement at something he had said.

And those curls. Don’t even get him started, the way they caught the harsh spotlights’ glares, proudly shining as he swayed back and forth. A few ends were frizzy, probably because Louis was the one who had washed his hair that morning, and Harry hadn’t gotten to do his sacred routine. He also knew the smell of it, the light perfume smell paired with strawberries and something that reminded him of his mom, maybe just the scent of home.

“You’re really in love with him, aren’t you?” A voice from behind frightened him, making him jump like the little kitten Harry always claimed him of being. He thought Harry was the more kitten-like of the two.

“Jesus Christ, Liam,” he spoke, hand over heart as he turned around to face the man who just smiled.

__

“So, this is a new one guys, and excuse me for going soft for a minute, alright?” he spoke out to the sea of people, spotting two familiar bodies up in the VIP section.

“I wanna dedicate this one to two of the most important people in my life,” screams sounded before he continued. “Yeah, thank you for everything you’ve showed me, and I’m honoured to say that I love you two so much,” he was sure his cheeks were rosy, ‘awes’ whispered in the crowd before he finished his speech.

“This is a bit different, but grab a friend and dance the life out of it, because dancing is everyone’s style, yeah?” He grinned, hearing a guitar starting.

In the harsh glow of spotlights, he could make out two silhouettes dancing, warming his heart more than the light bulbs around him ever could.