Archive of Our Own ^beta

Louis’ always loved the park in the late summer. The way the grass is still a stark green, the sun shimmering bright like ripples in the blue expanse of the sky. And yet the breeze brings with it a whisper of crisper autumn air. It rustles the leaves of the large oak trees fanning the path and promises nights of too large jumpers and warm tea between cold hands. He loves to watch the people too: the couples lounging and the uni students preparing for the coming term with books in their laps. He loves the light and playful sounds that swirl and fill the air, children running around and laughing while dogs chase their tails. It always pulls a smile out even on his hardest days and washes away any negativity that may be hiding in the crevices of his bones.

It’s a regular Tuesday as Louis steps off the 417 bus at his usual stop. The sun is still clinging high in the sky although looming clouds appear to have begun creeping in since Louis took his lunch break. Perhaps it’s supposed to rain tomorrow. He should remember to check before he goes to work. Nothing worse than being caught without an umbrella.

Just like every day, Louis makes his way to the town park, sidestepping two young bikers as he makes his way down the path. The sun’s rays feel heavenly as they lick at his skin, and the light breeze that tickles his cheek and seeps into his pores is a blessing after a day stuck inside at work.

Louis pauses on his way down the path to watch a group of young boys kicking around a football, his mind stirring up memories of playing with his own mates back in the day. He can’t help but wince sympathetically when one boy goes down in a harsh tackle, but scraped knees don’t stop his ruddy smile or bright laughter. As the boy runs back into the fray of the game, Louis continues his way down the path. He’s almost nearing the far exit when a piercing cry reaches his ears and stops him in his tracks. When Louis snaps his head in the direction of the sound, his eyes find a small girl sitting in the grass crying. Her hair is plaited into two braids; although, a few springy curls have broken free. A bright yellow dress hangs from her small frame, the fabric littered with grass stains, and her chubby cheeks are damp from the tears flowing from her eyes. She can’t be more than four, and Louis’ heart instantly goes out to her, it wrenching and twisting painfully between his ribs. Before he can even think twice, his legs are carrying him towards the girl, his eyes darting around for any sign of a frantic parent.

As he gets closer along the path to the girl, he notices a woman with a pram has also stopped, crouching down to speak to the crying girl.

“…How about can you tell me what your mommy or daddy looks like? Sweetie, I can’t help you if all you do is cry.”

The woman reaches forward to grasp the little girl’s arm and haul her up, but it seems to set the little girl off, as she screams out and starts to cry louder. Louis can’t help but pick up the pace of his steps as the little girl kicks out her feet and twists free of the woman’s grasp, turning and running down the path. She must not be watching where she’s going because before Louis can get to her, she’s smacking right into his legs. Louis is quick to steady her with a hand on her shoulder, and when she looks up at him, he’s greeted with wide green eyes filled with panic and brimming with tears. It leaves Louis’ heart giving another lurch at the sight. He kneels down to her level and puts on his friendliest smile, sliding his hand from her shoulder to her back and rubbing soothing circles. Although her bottom lip continues to tremble, the tears subside to sniffles, so Louis counts it as a win.

“Is she yours then?” The woman with the pram’s voice draw his attention again. “You know you should really teach her what to do if she gets lost instead of just crying and flailing her arms.”

With one last exasperated sigh, the woman stalks back down the path with her pram. Louis tries not to roll his eyes as he turns back to the little girl. He offers her another smile and pushes a stray curl out of her face.

“Are you lost?” Louis asks, keeping his tone soft. “Can I help you find your mommy or daddy?”

The little girl just blinks up at Louis, her eyebrows pinching together and bottom lip pouting out. Louis would be endeared by the cute sight if he wasn’t so concerned. Maybe that woman was right. How can he help if this little girl won’t offer anything? Louis’ about to try a different tactic of questioning when he notices her hands moving in his periphery. He glances down just in time to catch the sign for father, and it all clicks into place.

“Flailing arms,” Louis scoffs under his breath before bringing his hands up to her eye level.

“You lost your daddy?” Louis signs.

The little girl nods her head repeatedly, her eyes once again flooding with tears as her hands fist into the fabric of her dress. Louis tries to calm her, running his hands up and down her arms a few times before pulling them away to sign again.

“I’ll help you find Daddy. What does Daddy look like?”

The little girl sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, eying Louis up while she twirls one her braids between her hands.

“Daddy say no strangers.”

“I bet Daddy also said no running off.”

The little girl looks down guiltily at that, her little sandaled feet turning inward. Slowly, she brings her hands up to sign butterfly, and Louis has to bite back a chuckle.

“You were chasing a butterfly?” Louis asks.

The little girl nods again. ”It was yellow. Like my dress.”

“Sounds very pretty.”

“Butterflies are my favourite.”

A big, wide smile pulls its way across her face as she signs that, and Louis notices two dimples that pop into her cheeks. He can’t help but smile himself, already so endeared and enamoured by this little girl. She’s bouncing on her toes now, eyes bright and tears long forgotten. She’s looking up at him expectantly, like she thinks he’ll magically produce a butterfly, but all Louis can think about is that she’s still lost. He glances up, darting his eyes around in hopes of spotting a parent by now. The park appears to be thinning out, the sun starting to sink lower in the sky. It leaves worry settling deep in Louis’ stomach, tendrils of dread starting to creep out into his chest.

“How about we find Daddy now?”

Louis stands up and tries to grab for the little girl’s hand, but she yanks it away, stepping back and crossing her arms across her chest.

“Strangers,” she signs.

Louis crouches back down to her level. “What’s your name?”

“S-o-p-h-i-e.”

“I’m L-o-u-i-s. Now we’re not strangers anymore.”

Sophie lunges forward, hugging Louis tightly around the neck. It shocks him at first, but he slowly brings his arms up to encircle her small frame. He can feel her smile pressing into his collarbones, and her stray curls are tickling his cheek. He hugs her a bit tighter before she’s stepping out of his embrace, her face open and happy.

“Friends.”

Louis tries to keep his emotions in check at the sign, but his heart betrays him, giving a little squeeze in his chest. He straightens up and offers Sophie a wide smile that matches hers.

“Keep hold of my hand, okay?”

Sophie nods and holds her hand out towards him. Louis takes it and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze before they set off down the path and back towards the heart of the park. Sophie skips alongside him as Louis keeps his eyes out for any potential parents.

As they near the playground, Sophie tugs on their joined hands. Louis glances down at her, but her eyes are glued ahead, finger pointed in front of her. Louis follows where she’s looking, seeing a man pacing by the swings. He has one hand bunched up in his hair, the other clutching a small sun hat against his chest. Louis leads Sophie over towards him, noticing the matching chocolate curls brushing across the man’s shoulders.

Once they’re close enough, Louis reaches out to tap the man’s shoulder and get his attention, but Sophie beats him to it, letting go of his hand to wrap her arms around the back of her dad’s knees. The man whips around at the contact, and as soon as he spots Sophie, he scoops the little girl up, hugging her tight against him. He presses a few kisses to her hair before setting her down and crouching down to be eye to eye with her.

“What did I tell you about running off?”

"Butterfly,” Sophie signs, tucking her chin against her chest as her fingers find their way to the hem of her dress, tugging guiltily.

Her father sighs before squeezing her back into his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple as he stands back up with the little girl settled on his hip. It’s then that he really notices Louis. Their eyes meet and Louis has to bite the inside of his cheek for a moment. The man is tall, all broad shoulders and long legs. His eyes are green like his daughter’s, but a much deeper shade. Definitely not what he was expecting.

"Thank you so much for helping Sophie," the man says, stepping closer with a friendly but relieved smile painted across his face.

“Don’t worry about it,” Louis offers. “I was happy to help. I’m Louis by the way.”

Louis holds out his hand between them, the man taking his hand in a firm grasp to shake.

“Harry. And honestly, I can’t thank you enough. I was going out of my mind there.”

“Really. Don’t worry about it. I have younger siblings and I’d want someone to help them so…”

“I just wish I had something I could offer as my thanks.”

“That’s really not necessary.”

“I just—thanks. Again.”

“You’re welcome, Harry.”

Louis turns to go then, but he only makes it a few steps down the path before little hands are wrapping around the backs of his knees. When Louis looks down, Sophie is pouting back up at him. He has to give her kudos for the way she bats her little eyes and the way her bottom lip trembles the tiniest bit. She presses a kiss to the side of Louis’ kneecap before turning back to her father.

“Friend. Dinner?”

Louis and Harry make eye contact then. Something deep inside Louis perks up at the suggestion. Like an ember gaining in strength and sending flutters of tingling light and warmth through his body, making his heart give a jolt. Louis’ ready to silence that small voice in the back of his mind, but then Harry’s face is breaking out in a wide smile, dimples just like his daughter’s cratering into his cheeks.

“You should come to dinner.”

“Oh,” Louis says a bit lamely before his brain catches up. “I don’t want to over step.”

“It can be my thank you. I don’t have much to offer, but I can offer a decently cooked meal as my thanks.”

“Um…”

“Please?”

Louis looks between Harry and Sophie. Both have equally wide smiles plastered across their faces, two pairs of green eyes bright and pleading. And if anyone is able to resist these two, Louis would like to shake their hand and commend their resilience.

“Okay,” Louis says, making sure he signs his words as well so Sophie will understand. “Dinner sounds perfect.”

And that's how Louis finds himself entering Harry and Sophie's home or the Style's residence as the little hand painted sign out front reads. The Styles live in a quaint little maisonette tucked away on a quiet street. It’s small, but homely. The distinct smell of French vanilla candles underlined with the scent of fresh, clean laundry fills the air. And Louis swears he can hear and feel the laughter and love soaked into the cream coloured walls. Picture frames litter various flat surfaces, each one filled with smiles and happiness. Louis spots a photo of Sophie with a young woman, tongues hanging out and eyes crossed, but before he can dwell on it, Sophie is pulling him towards the lounge.

"I'll let you know when dinner is ready,” Harry says, continuing his way further into the house where Louis assumes the kitchen is.

Louis watches his retreating back for a moment before Sophie is drawing his attention. She gives him a gentle shove towards the sofa before skipping off to one of the bookshelves. Louis takes a seat just as Sophie turns back around, her arms overflowing with colouring books and a sixty-four pack of Crayola Crayons tucked precariously in the crook of her elbow. She lets them all tumble across the coffee table before jumping up onto the sofa beside him, flipping open the top of the pack of crayons so all sixty four colours are on display. Louis grabs one of the books of various floral patterns, tossing through the different pages that are already filled with brightly coloured in flowers. He finds one page where the roses are even shaded, and his eyes can’t help but drift in the direction of the kitchen, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

Sophie settles beside him, a book filled with sea creature designs sprawled out on the table in front of her. She reaches into the box of crayons for a purple before settling in on her art, carefully colouring in a starfish. Louis watches for a moment. The way her tongue pokes out of the corner of her mouth in concentration, her head nestled on her left arm while her right moves in calculated strokes against the page. It makes Louis’ fingers itch to pull out his phone to take a photo, much like he would with his siblings, but he knows it’s not his place.

Instead, Louis finds a page of daisies and reaches into the box for a yellow. Before the crayon can reach the page though, it’s being plucked from his hand and replaced. Louis snaps his head towards Sophie who has a bright smile painted across her face, teeth on full display. Louis glances down at the new crayon in his hand then back at Sophie before giving a solemn nod. It seems to be the response the little girl is looking for as her smile grows even more, her eyes developing a bit more sparkle in those greens. Louis’ not quite sure what the difference between Lemon Yellow and Dandelion Yellow is, but something starts to build in his chest as he and Sophie colour alongside each other. He can’t quite pinpoint what it is. Something like the warm embrace of a glowing fire on a cold winter’s night or the soft kiss on the cheek from a spring breeze. But he knows that a little voice buried deep inside him doesn’t ever want it to go away.

Louis’ not sure for how long he and Sophie colour. He doesn’t even hear Harry come in, but when he glances up, the man is leaning against the opening to the lounge, a tea towel hanging across one of his shoulders and a soft, fond smile dancing across his face. When the two make eye contact, Louis finds himself fascinated with the way Harry sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, the way pink floods and swirls in his cheeks.

“Um dinner is ready,” Harry says, hand coming up to rake through his hair. “Can you help Sophie wash up?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Once Harry nods and leaves, Louis turns and taps Sophie on her shoulder, getting her attention.

“Dinner is ready, but we have to wash up first, okay?”

Sophie nods and clambers off the sofa. She starts collecting her colouring books and Louis helps, packing up the crayons and helping her to place everything back on the bookshelf. He then follows her down the corridor to the bathroom, lifting her up so she can reach the water and squirting soap into her awaiting hands. Once they finish sharing the hand towel to dry their hands, Louis lets Sophie lead the way to the kitchen. The table has a full spread of chicken and potatoes and mixed vegetables, leaving Louis’ mouth watering. He helps Sophie into her booster seat before taking his own, Harry bringing over the last of the dishes.

Louis waits for Harry to dish up Sophie’s plate then goes in while Harry is cutting Sophie’s dinner into bitesize pieces. Louis cuts a bite for himself and has to hold back a moan as it melts in his mouth.

“This is amazing, Harry. Thank you.”

That blush from before starts to creep up Harry’s cheeks, and he ducks his head to take a bite himself.

“It’s supposed to be a thank you for you.”

Louis has to duck his own head down at that. It’s then that he notices Sophie across from him. She has a frown etched across her face and her brows are pinched together as she watches between him and her father. There’s a pang of heartbreak that tears through his chest as he understands.

“You like butterflies?”

The frown disappears to a bright smile as Sophie nods, stuffing some potatoes into her mouth.

“Do you have a favourite type?”

“Orange.”

“The orange ones are your favourite?”

Sophie looks to her father for help with big, bright eyes.

“M-o-n-a-r-c-h.” Harry signs out.

“Auntie bought me a book.”

"My sister, Gemma,” Harry explains.

“That’s very cool,” Louis signs, “I wish I had a book of butterflies.”

“I show you later.”

Unfortunately, Sophie never gets the chance. Her eyes start to droop before her plate is even cleared. Once a big yawn tears through her, Harry gets up, scooping her into his arm. He settles her comfortably on his hip before offering Louis a soft smile.

“I’ll be right back.”

Harry carries Sophie up the stairs, the little girl offering Louis a small, tired wave from over her father’s shoulder. Once Harry and Sophie have disappeared upstairs, Louis finishes his food. He fiddles with his glass of water a bit, drawing shapes in the condensation. As more time passes by, Louis finds his eyes drifting towards the stairs again and again. Eventually, Louis gathers up the plates on the table and heads towards the kitchen. He collects the pots and pans still waiting on the hob as well and turns on the water, finding a sponge and some dish soap. He gets the pan soaking as he starts to wipe down the plates, setting them on the drying rack when he finishes.

“You shouldn’t be doing that. You’re a guest and this dinner was a thank you.”

Louis whips around, soap up to his elbows, to find Harry leaning against the opening to the kitchen. Louis can’t help but wonder how long he’s been standing there with his relaxed stance and soft smile.

“I don’t mind. I’ve never been much of a cook, but I’m aces at doing dishes.”

Harry’s smile picks up just that little bit at the comment as he pushes himself up off the wall. He grabs a tea towel from a drawer and nabs a few of the dishes out of the drying rack to help.

“So where did you learn to sign?” Harry asks.

“I took a class I guess. My neighbours, they had this little boy, Jackson, and I used to babysit him for some extra cash. He started losing his hearing after his third birthday. One of those extreme cases of ear infections or something. So I decided to do one of those online tutorials to learn. It comes in handy occasionally. Like today.”

“I know you’re tired of my repeatedly saying thank you, but I honestly can’t thank you enough. Who knows what would’ve happened…”

“Well lucky for you, Sophie is adorable,” Louis says, handing over a freshly cleaned pot with a cheeky smile.

“Well she is my daughter.”

The two share a light laugh at that, as Louis grabs the baking pan the chicken was cooked on and starts scrubbing it down. A few moments of peaceful silence pass while Louis and Harry finish up the dishes. When Louis finishes and is drying his hands, he turns to Harry with a tentative smile.

“So… can I ask?”

“About?”

“Sophie.”

A soft sigh falls past Harry’s lips as he sets about putting the dishes away around the kitchen.

“I was a carrier. Autosomal recessive hearing loss is what the doctors called it. I didn’t even know. I didn’t even notice right away either. I mean, she still cried when she was hungry or tired, but… I dunno. I just thought she was one of those quiet babies, you know?”

"You've done an amazing job with her, though.”

“Thanks…”

“So um… your wife was a carrier too then?”

Harry pauses where he’s putting the baking sheet away before he’s turning to face Louis, bottom lip snagged between his teeth.

“Surrogate actually. But yeah, she was a carrier too. It was um actually because of my fiancé at the time we even found out about Sophie’s hearing. We thought we were ready for a kid, but I guess only I was. It sparked a lot of fights unfortunately, and one time it got a bit ugly in front of Sophie. When she didn’t even make a peep at our shouting, I knew something was up.”

“That must have been tough.”

“You have no idea… and then when we found out Sophie was deaf, it was the last straw for him. And that was that. But I wouldn’t change it for the world. Sophie’s everything to me.”

“Anyone with eyes can see that. She really is a great kid, Harry.”

The two share a soft smile together in the quiet of the kitchen. Despite only having just met a few hours before, it isn’t laced with the awkwardness Louis would’ve expected. It’s simple and easy. Louis’ not sure how it happened, but he feels like he’s known Harry longer than he has, and the urge to wrap the other man up in his arms and comfort him is hard for Louis to tamper down on. But then Harry’s face is falling.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to just unload on you like that.”

"You don't have to apologize."

"So um what do you do for a living?" Harry asks, clearly trying to change the subject.

“I work in a café. Glamorous, I know.”

“I’m a lowly intern at a record label, so I’m not much better.”

“You want to work in music?”

“That’s the goal at least.”

“Isn’t that a bit weird… You know… Because of…”

“Because of Sophie?”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. Actually, she’s my inspiration. I write a lot of music just for her, music that she can feel.”

"That's really sweet. Amazing actually.”

“Thanks.”

Harry ducks his head down, and Louis finds himself fascinated with the skin of cheeks change shades. The way his hair falls across his face and creates dancing shadows on his skin. The way his long limbs are silhouetted and enhanced from the soft glow of the light above the hob behind him. Louis wants to say something clever, something suave, but as he goes to open his mouth, he notices the time flashing on the microwave.

“Shit. It’s getting quite late.”

Harry whips around, his eyes finding the time as well. “Oh.”

“Sorry. It’s just—I have to open the café tomorrow and…”

“No of course. I understand. Sophie is always up at the crack of dawn anyways, so I should probably head to bed as well.”

Harry walks Louis to the door, both men hovering in the entrance way. Louis stuffs his hands in his pockets just to give himself something to do, scrunching his toes inside his shoes. He watches for a moment as Harry fiddles with his hair before he finds the courage to open his mouth.

“Thanks for dinner. It really was delicious.”

“Yeah, of course. And I know you’re probably tired of hearing it, but thank you again for helping Sophie. I’ll keep saying it a thousand times.”

“You don’t—”

“I know. But I want to.”

They share a soft smile by the door, seconds ticking by in the quiet bubble they’ve created. Louis wants to say something more. Wants to think of an excuse to keep the conversation going. A good reason to ask Harry for his number. But he knows deep down this was nothing more than a polite dinner to show gratitude, and when a big yawn tears its way through Harry, Louis knows his time is up. So he grabs for the door handle and pulls it open.

“See you around, yeah?” Harry asks, holding the door open as Louis steps out into the cool night air.

"Yeah. 'Course."

Louis offers Harry one last smile and a wave before he turns and makes his way down the street, refusing to acknowledge the sinking feeling trying to gnaw its way into his chest.

Louis’ never been happier to be stepping out of the café than he is that Friday. Between a snooty business man who thought he was more entitled than Louis and the cappuccino machine going temperamental, Louis wants nothing more than to face plant into his sofa, steal one or five of Niall’s beers from the fridge, and marathon Bake Off.

He slumps in his seat on the bus, rubbing small circles into his temples, and when the bus pulls up to his stop, it takes more effort than he’d like to admit to pull himself up and off. He takes his usual route through the park, but the high pitched screams and laughter of the children prickle his brain. As Louis turns around a bend, he spots a flash of a running curly head and gangly limbs following. He watches as Sophie darts through the grass, smile wide and bright on her face even at this distance, Harry hot on her heels. She ducks to hide behind the trunk of a tree, peeking around as her father feigns confusion. And just like that it’s like all the tension that had been building and balling up inside Louis is washed away and replaced with warmth. A smile peels its way across his face, and before he can think twice, he makes his way over.

Sophie spots him first. She leaves her hiding place to barrel forward, and much like their first meeting, Louis gets a leg full of her. He smiles down at her and offers her a wave before turning his attention to Harry.

“Hey,” Louis says. “I was walking home; thought I’d say hi.”

“Hi.” A slow smile makes its way across Harry’s face. “How are you?”

"Alright. A bit of a shitty day at work but…”

Louis shrugs, but before he can explain anymore, he feels a tug on his shirt. When he looks down, Sophie is watching up at him with wide eyes, her bottom lip sucked into her mouth.

“Friend dinner?”

"Oh, Sophie. I don't think—"

“Sure,” Louis cuts Harry off, scooping Sophie up into his arms and settling her on his hip. “I’d love to.”

Sophie claps her hands happily before settling her arms around Louis’ neck. Louis looks to Harry, the curly haired man looking slightly stunned. There’s something else swimming in the green of his eyes, but before Louis can dwell on it, Harry is spinning around to grab his and Sophie’s bag, leading the way to the Style’s residence.

It’s easier the second time around. Once through the door, Harry splits off into the kitchen and Louis and Sophie skip into the lounge. This time they share a colouring page with an intricate elephant design on it. And after dinner and Sophie’s been put to bed, they share dishes duty, laughing and bumping shoulders the whole way through. When the dishes are all put away or on the drying rack, Harry pours two glasses of wine, and the two settle on the sofa. Harry flips through the channels on the telly for something to watch, and Louis can’t help the groan that falls past his lips when he sees what he chooses.

“You know you’re only supposed to watch Love Actually at Christmas time, right?”

“Just because the film takes place at Christmas time, doesn’t mean you have to watch it at Christmas time.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“It’s a classic love story all year round.”

“How serious you responded worries me. How many times have you seen this film?”

Instead of answering, Harry just turns to Louis with a wide smile, dimples on full display. Louis wants to roll his eyes, wants to make another sarcastic quip, but the sight leaves a wave of warmth rolling and washing through his insides, so instead he shakes his head and hides his own smile behind his wine glass.

As the film continues to play through, Louis can’t help but find himself becoming hyperaware to Harry beside him. Maybe it’s the wine taking over and flooding his veins, but his eyes keep getting drawn to the man. The way the glow of the television reflects and bounces off his cheeks, his eyelashes leaving a splattering of shadows. The way his lips twitch or a chuckle tears from his throat at the funny lines. Louis is also very hyperaware of the gap of sofa in between them. It makes his head go a bit dizzy and Louis knows he needs a good distraction before he does something teetering on this side of stupid.

“So if you had to choose between Hugh Grant, Alan Rickman, and Colin Firth, who would you choose?” Louis blurts out.

"What?" Harry asks, turning to face Louis with an easy smile.

“Who would you choose? You said it was a classic love story, so tell me, Harry, who fills your Christmas time fantasies?”

Harry lets out another chuckle, but he pinches his lip between his fingers, seeming to think about it. Louis uses it as an excuse to watch him, cataloguing every inch.

“I feel like everyone always chooses Hugh Grant, and I guess I’d have to agree, so I think I’ll go with Hugh.”

“Hugh?”

“Yeah… Plus, rest his soul, but all I would be able to think about with Alan Rickman is Severus Snape. I mean can you imagine having sex with Severus Snape? And my name is Harry, so that’d just be even more awkward.”

Louis splutters and practically chokes on his mouthful of wine at the comment, and then both men are laughing. Harry throws his head back, loud cackles bursting from him as he tries to stifle them with a hand over his mouth, while Louis’ eyes prickle and his lungs tighten with each laugh. Eventually their laughs teeter off, and when Louis meets Harry’s eyes, the curly haired lad’s are an even brighter green, leaving any last chuckles halting and dying in his throat.

“So what about you? Who would you choose?” Harry asks, his eyes boring straight into Louis’.

“Me?” Louis responds, his eyes darting back towards the television where Mark is holding up his cue cards.

“Yeah. And you can’t say Hugh Grant because I obviously called dibs.”

Louis snaps his head back in Harry’s direction. “Dibs? What are we, five?”

“I take dibs very seriously, Louis.”

Harry tries to keep his face just as serious, but Louis notices the way his nose scrunches and the way the corner of his lips twitch that suggest otherwise.

“Actually, I think I’d have to choose Liam Neeson. He’s got that deep, rough voice. I like a man with a deep voice.”

“Oh really?”

Louis’ eyes track the movement as Harry’s teeth capture and clamp down on his lower lip, stained a deep pink from the wine.

"Yeah…”

Their eyes meet after that. The air between them feels heavy and intense, and Louis can’t help but count the gold flecks swimming in the green of Harry’s eyes, his eyelashes as they fan out across his cheeks.

Harry breaks the moment first, ducking his head and scrubbing his hands through his hair. Louis grabs his glass of wine and hides his smile behind the rim as he trains his eyes back on the film.

After that, dinner at the Style’s residence becomes a regular weekly occurrence. Sometimes, he meets up with Sophie and Harry in the park, chasing the little girl around the playground before helping Harry to prepare dinner. Other times, Louis and Harry exchange texts before meeting up at their house. And every time, Louis feels like he’s falling a little bit more in love with this little family. It’s not long before Louis finds himself buying a colouring book full of butterflies when he’s at Tesco’s, before he finds himself missing matching green eyes and dimpled smiles, deep rumbling chuckles and delicious home cooked meals on the nights he’s spends in his flat with pot noodles.

It’s a Saturday morning in mid-October that Louis finds himself pacing his kitchen. His weekly dinners with Harry and Sophie have been going great. The warm feeling that clicks into place upon seeing their bright, wide smiles and the claws of dread that sink in when he has to say goodbye are hard not to dwell on. He can’t stop thinking about how at Wednesday’s dinner, Sophie had asked Louis to read her her bedtime story or how after, when he and Harry settled on the sofa to watch Friends reruns, their knees had pressed together. He can’t stop thinking about how much it squeezes at his heart every time Sophie lights up and hugs his legs whenever she sees him. How he loves Harry’s texts whether they’re new photos of Sophie or a joke or pun that the curly haired lad seems to have an affinity for. And yet, Louis still feels like there’s this line, this grey area he’s too worried to dip his toe in.

Louis fiddles with his phone between his hands, the inside of his cheek pinched between his teeth. It’s then that Niall comes stumbling out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. He takes one unimpressed look at Louis’ state and plops down in one of the kitchen chairs.

“You’re being an idiot, you know.”

“Shup up, Neil.”

Niall gives a grunt of acknowledgement but Louis rolls his eyes and ignores it. He unlocks his phone once again and pulls up Harry’s contact. His thumb hovers over the screen, his mind racing. Suddenly, a pale hand comes into view, pressing the call button.

“Niall!” Louis splutters out.

“You’re welcome, Tommo,” Niall calls out, retreating back further into the flat.

Louis splutters for a few more moments before a tinny voice breaks through his panic.

“Hello? Louis…? Hello?”

"Harry! Hey!" Louis puts on his best cheery voice, bringing the phone up to his ear.

“Hey, Lou.” Louis tries to ignore the way his heart jumps at the easy roll of the nickname. “What’s up?”

“I um…” Louis swallows hard and steels himself. “Do you and Sophie have any plans for today?”

“Not that I can think of. Why?”

“Well…”

Two hours later, Louis clambers out of the tube station and towards the National History Museum. It was raining earlier, streaks of grey marring the world, but the clouds seem to be taking a break, puddles glistening on the pavement. Louis waits by the entrance, watching as school groups and families head inside. The cold air is just starting to bite its way into his fingers and toes when he spots Harry and Sophie. Harry has a long black coat draped over his shoulders, hair pulled back in a tight bun, while Sophie is dressed in a bright purple raincoat, jumping into every puddle she passes. When she sees Louis, she waves excitedly with her free hand before pulling her father forward with their joined ones. Louis crouches down when they reach him, accepting a hug from a bubbly Sophie. He presses a kiss into her curly hair before she pulls back.

“We rode the train,” she tells him, smile wide and bouncing up onto her toes.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yes, lots of people.”

“There are lots of different people to see on the tube, aren’t there?”

“I wave at them all.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

“We go in now?”

Louis nods and stands back up. Sophie grasps Harry’s hand in one hand and Louis’ in the other before skipping off towards the stairs, both men sharing a soft smile over her head. When they step inside, Sophie drops their hands, her wide eyes glued to the giant fossil in front of her in the entry gallery. Her mouth hangs open as she stumbles a few steps closer.

Harry crouches down beside her. He spells out the word dinosaur before demonstrating the sign for it. Sophie blinks between the large dinosaur before her and her father. She copies her father’s movements to sign dinosaur, and when Harry nods, a wide toothy smile overtakes her face as she bounces up and down in excitement.

Louis kneels down as well, grabbing Sophie’s attention.

“Do you want to see more dinosaurs?”

Sophie nods frantically, her bounces transforming into full blown jumping. Harry stands and grabs a map, and the three head off further into the museum.

It’s not hard to find the dinosaur exhibit, and Sophie seems to be in love as soon as she steps foot in it. Her fascination grows with each new dinosaur introduced to her, and Harry and Louis take turns explaining the different species. From the horns of the triceratops to the spiky backs of the stegosaurus, Sophie can’t get enough of the facts on the different plaques. Her favourite by far seems to be the tyrannosaurus rex, and Louis has to bite his lip around a laugh at the sight of her face when she sees it.

Once Sophie is satisfied with all the fossils and facts, Louis and Harry let her play in the kids-zone, pretending to be an archaeologist. Her face lights up every time she brushes away the sand to reveal another plastic bone hiding beneath them, and both men watch her with equally soft smiles painted across their faces.

“Hey, Lou.”

Louis hums in acknowledgement, not taking his eyes off Sophie, who claps excitedly when she reveals another bone.

“What’s a dinosaur’s least favourite reindeer?”

Louis whips his head to face Harry. “What?”

“What’s a dinosaur’s least favourite reindeer?”

“I… don’t know…?”

“Comet.”

Louis blinks a few times, Harry looking at him expectantly with a wide goofy smile stretched across his face. Louis has to press his lips together to stop himself from smiling too fondly, has to swallow hard to tamper down on the jumping and stuttering in his chest.

“That’s the dumbest joke I’ve ever heard,” Louis mutters, turning back to Sophie.

“Oh I can assure you I have much worse in my repertoire.”

Sophie wanders back over to them after that, and Harry kneels down to straighten out her dress that became crumpled in the sand box.

"Where now?" she asks.

“I have a surprise for you now,” Louis explains.

Sophie’s whole face morphs with the new information. Her eyes widen, and her mouth drops open as a tiny gasp falls past her lips. Then she slaps her hands over her eyes much to Louis’ confusion. He crouches down and slowly pulls her hands away.

“What are you doing?”

“Daddy says close eyes when surprises.”

“But you can’t see where you’re going if you close your eyes.”

Sophie mulls this over, her bottom lip pouting out. She looks up to her father for help who scoops her up into his arms with a smile. Her pout disappears to form a matching wide smile, and her hands settle back over her eyes.

“Lead the way, Lou.”

Louis grabs the map and double checks the directions before heading out of the dinosaur exhibit. He has to bite back a secret smile as he pulls the tickets he’d purchased this morning out of his back pocket.

Louis doesn’t think anything will ever compare to the look on Sophie’s face when she opens her eyes to find she’s in the butterfly enclosure. The soft flutter of wings echoes around them and flashes of colour can be seen left and right. As Sophie takes in her surroundings, her mouth slowly drops open, her eyes starting to well up, before she rushes forward to hug Louis’ legs. Louis leans down to hug her back properly before taking her hand, leading her around the exhibit.

Sophie can’t seem to stop bouncing, pointing out each butterfly and signing out what she can remember from her book. From buckeyes to swallowtails even to monarchs. The attendant gives some fruit for Sophie to hold to feed the butterflies, and the little girl happily skips around, trying to convince some of the fluttering insects to land and eat. After a few minutes, she drags herself back over towards Louis, a prominent frown marring her face and tears shining in her eyes.

“Why they no wanna be my friends?”

“You can’t move so much, sweetie. It scares them. You have to stay very still.”

Sophie nods, but her face is still a picture of sadness, and it breaks Louis’ heart. Every fibre of his being cries to pull her into his arms and cuddle that feeling away. It’s then that a monarch butterfly flies over, landing right on the sleeve of Sophie’s dress.

"Move carefully. Look on your shoulder. You do have a friend.”

Slowly, Sophie turns her head. When she spots the butterfly nestled on her shoulder, she raises her free arm and offers the insect a wave, eye bright and smile wide once again. The motion causes the butterfly to fly away, and Sophie giggles into her hands.

They spend a little while longer in the butterfly enclosure before calling it a day. After exiting the museum—but not before a stop to the gift shop—they find a small Italian restaurant a few streets over to get dinner. Sophie ends up with spaghetti sauce all over her face, and Louis tries to keep up with wiping it away, but when he glances at Harry he sees alfredo sauce dribbling down the curly haired lad’s chin. Upon being spotted, Harry gives a sheepish smile and shrugs his shoulders.

“Like father like daughter?”

“I can’t take you two anywhere, can I?” Louis teases, turning back to his shrimp scampi.

The rest of the dinner goes smoothly, Sophie talking nonstop between bites about all the things she saw at the museum. At the end, though, when the waitress places the bill on the table, Louis is quick to grab it, much to Harry’s unimpressed expression.

“Louis, no. You’ve already done enough today. Let me pay.”

“This whole day is my treat. I’ve got it.”

Louis hands his card over to the waitress before Harry can get out another word. Harry huffs, but says nothing more, gathering Sophie up in his arms, as Louis puts in his pin and finishes paying the bill. Once he gets his card back, Louis stands up as well, set to follow Harry towards the door, when he notices the soft smile of their waitress.

“You all make the cutest little family,” she says before scurrying off towards her other tables.

Louis is glad it’s dark enough outside that Harry can’t notice the blush burning into his cheeks. And he spends the walk back to the tube station trying to tamper down on the flares wreaking havoc on his insides at the simple comment, trying to ignore the way his heart swelled at the thought.

They ride the tube back together, Sophie falling asleep halfway through the journey. Louis walks Harry and Sophie back to their house, both men just enjoying the quiet of the night so as to not disturb the sleeping girl. Their steps echo in unison against the pavement, and a light breeze rustles the leaves around them, sending them skipping across the ground. The clouds hide the moon or any stars from making an appearance, but it still whispers a perfect night.

When they arrive at the Style’s residence, both men hovering in front of the door, Harry turns towards Louis with a shy smile.

“Thanks for today,” Harry says. “I don’t think Sophie will ever stop talking about it.”

“Well thanks for spending the day with me.”

Louis watches as Harry diverts his eyes away. As he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. As he shifts Sophie even higher in his arms. Then before he knows it, Harry is leaning in, their lips pressing together. It’s like a shot of ice taking off through Louis’ veins, his brain short-circuiting, but before Louis can even begin to fathom what’s happening, the lips are gone.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Harry stutters out. “I don’t—I don’t know what I was—”

Before Harry can finish his blabbering, Louis steps into his space, crashing their lips back together again. Harry’s lips are soft and plush against his, the point of contact sending tingling warmth burrowing deep into his bones. Louis can taste the chicken alfredo Harry had for dinner, but it’s still everything he’d hoped it be. Their lips move in soft languid movements, each pull and slide sending new sparks between them. Like a soft summer breeze wrapping them both up in an embrace.

Sophie gives a quiet snuffle against Harry’s shoulder, and the two pull apart, a beautiful flush painted across the taller man’s cheeks.

"I should um...” Harry says, making an aborted motion towards Sophie with his free hand.

“Yeah…”

Harry digs his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door and opening it just an inch before spinning back around to face Louis.

“Call me later?”

“Of course.”

Harry leans in, pressing one last chaste kiss against Louis’ lips before disappearing inside his house.

After that, their dinners change, but Louis finds himself looking forward to them even more. And with each dinner, he learns something new. He learns that despite his long limbs, Harry likes to fold himself up to be cuddled. He learns the little mewls Harry makes when his hair is played with. He learns that he can tell Harry anything, and it’s easy and comfortable, the curly haired lad looking at him with wide earnest eyes and nothing else in them. And after each dinner, something stirs a little bit more inside Louis, and it feels an awful like something clicking into place.

The temperature has dropped drastically as the days have changed into November and Louis is flipping aimlessly through channels, a packet of crisps nestled against his leg, when his phone starts blaring. He digs around the cushions and pillows until he finds it, seeing Harry’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hello?”

“Louis. Hey…”

“Hey, H. Alright?”

“Yeah… Actually no. Shit. I don’t—I dunno. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve—I—”

“Woah. Harry, love, slow down. What’s wrong?”

Harry takes a moment, taking a deep breath in and letting it out on a sigh.

“They want me to stay late at the studio. And it’s just—this internship is so important, and I can’t say no, but Sophie needs to be picked up from day-care in an hour, and I tried calling my mum, but she and Robin are visiting my Nan, and Gemma’s still out of the country and—”

“I can pick Sophie up from day-care.”

“What?”

“I’ll pick her up. I don’t mind. As long as you don’t mind me bringing her back to my flat.”

“Well she has a spare key in her rucksack for when Mum or Gemma picks her up…”

“Even better! I’ll pick her up and take her back to yours and watch her.”

Harry is silent on the other line for a moment. Louis turns off the telly and pulls himself up off the sofa, heading back towards his bedroom to change out of his trackies.

“I’ll have to call the day-care so they know you’ll be picking Sophie up,” Harry finally mutters.

“Harry—”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?”

“I dunno…”

“Harry, of course I don’t mind. Look, text me the address then call the day-care. I’ll go get Sophie, and you stay as late as you’re needed. It’s fine, babe; I promise.”

"Okay…”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.”

“Lou?” Harry stops Louis from hanging up, his voice quiet. “Thanks.”

“No thanks needed.”

Louis hangs up and tosses his phone on his bed. He pulls off his trackies and replaces them with a pair of jeans then tugs on a jumper. He heads to the bathroom to quickly brush his teeth and decides to just pull a beanie on to cover up his bed head. He makes sure he has his keys and wallet in his pocket before retrieving his phone again. There’s a text from Harry waiting with the address, and Louis googles the best bus route to take as he makes his way out the door.

Sophie’s day-care is easy enough to find, a sign with a bright smiling sun sitting above the door. Louis steps through the door to a quaint little reception area, a young woman sitting at the desk.

“Hello,” Louis greets, signing his words as he speaks. “I’m Louis Tomlinson. I’m here to pick up Sophie Styles.”

The woman looks down at some papers on her desk, shuffling through them, before smiling up at Louis.

“You can head on back. Classroom three.”

"Thanks."

Louis heads towards the door on the other side of the room, a buzzing sound echoing around them before he pulls it open. He makes his way down the corridor until he finds the classroom labelled with the number three. The door is propped open and Louis can see a number of children inside. A group of girls are sat by the window, dolls cradled in their laps; one little boy is sat colouring at a table, but Louis spots Sophie sprawled out on the rainbow carpet with a blonde little boy, puzzle pieces scattered around them. Louis can’t help but smile as he watches Sophie pick up different pieces and try to fit them together. She looks adorable with her face screwed up in concentration, little tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth and eyebrows pinched together. Louis watches her face morph when she finds a piece that fits, the sight sending warmth billowing through him despite the cold winter air.

Suddenly, there’s a tap on Louis’ shoulder. He turns to see a middle aged woman, hair pulled back into a bun and glasses perched on her nose.

“Can I help you?” she asks, her hands signing along with her words.

“Sorry,” Louis explains. “I’m Louis Tomlinson. I’m picking up Sophie today.”

The woman looks Louis up and down before she goes over to Sophie. She kneels down beside the two children on the carpet and taps Sophie on the shoulder, pointing towards the door. Louis offers her a small wave, and it’s almost as if it takes her a moment to realise what she’s seeing before her whole face lights up with a large grin. She clambers to her feet and rushes forward, Louis crouching down just in time to catch her in a hug. He allows himself to press a kiss to the top of her head before he pulls away.

“Did you have fun at day-care?”

Sophie nods excitedly, her hands moving in frantic motions as she tries to form her thoughts into words.

“I learn snow. I make snow. I colour. My turn to feed—”

Louis takes Sophie’s hands in his, halting her movements.

“You can tell me all about it on the way home. Let’s gather your things first.”

Sophie nods then dashes off to the side of the classroom where a line of cubbies are. Louis stands and follows, and when he gets over to her, she already has her rucksack on, directing a toothy smile in Louis’ direction.

“It’s cold outside,” Louis explains, grabbing her coat from the hook.

Sophie pouts, but allows Louis to pull her rucksack off and help her into the sleeves of her coat. He does up all the buttons then grabs her hat.

“Do you think it will snow?” Sophie asks while Louis secures the hat over her curls.

“I don’t know. It might.”

“I want to build a snowman.”

“When it snows, we’ll build a snowman in the back garden. I promise.”

Louis stands and takes Sophie’s hand in his, leading her out of the classroom and day-care. They head down the pavement and stop at a sweets shop to get a treat to enjoy while waiting for the bus. Once on the bus, Sophie tells Louis all about her day from everything she’s learnt about snow to one of her classmates, Bobby, tooting to her getting the chance to feed the class gerbil, Gerald. Louis pays adamant attention, adding in the occasional dramatic facial expression to make Sophie giggle mid story. After they make it to their stop, they skip all the way home.

Finding the key Harry described in Sophie’s rucksack doesn’t take too long. Louis lets them in, and as soon as the door is open, Sophie goes running inside. Louis follows behind her and finds her coat and hat abandoned on the floor in the entryway. He rolls his eyes with a fond smile and picks them up, hanging them on the coat hook before heading to the kitchen. He rummages around the refrigerator until he finds some grapes for them to snack on, washing a handful and placing them in a bowl on the kitchen table.

Sophie comes dashing in at that moment, a piece of paper flapping in her hands. She holds it out for Louis who takes it a bit confusedly. When he glances down at the page, his heart comes to a squeezing stop before picking back up double time. The drawing is simple enough, three smiling stick figures all holding hands, the one in the middle distinctly smaller and wearing a dress. There’s a smiling sun in the corner of the page and butterflies and hearts dotted around the remaining empty white space. But Louis knows what it means, what he hopes it means, and he has to swallow hard and blink a few times before he can turn his attention back to Sophie whose smile is just as bright as ever.

“You. Me. Daddy.”

“It’s a beautiful drawing. How about we hang it up for Daddy?”

Sophie nods and Louis scoops her up, letting her decide which magnet to hang the picture with. Once it’s secured, standing bold against the silver of the refrigerator, Louis sets her back down.

“I go colour before dinner?”

"Can you colour in here? I got you some grapes for you to snack on.”

With a nod, Sophie walks out of the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with her arms filled with her colouring supplies. Louis gets her set up at the kitchen table before rummaging around for something to make for dinner. He finds potatoes in one of the cupboards and chicken in the refrigerator. Some digging around in the freezer turns up some peas.

Once Louis gets everything prepped and cooking he sits down across from Sophie at the table, nabbing a grape from her bowl and a green crayon—asparagus according to the label. Since their museum visit, Sophie has developed a keen interest in dinosaurs, Louis having picked up a new colouring book just last week. Louis colours in a pterodactyl while Sophie continues with her page, a quiet calm blanketed around them. The only sounds being the scratch of crayon on paper and the bubbling pot of potatoes.

Louis reaches for another grape then, his hand bumping against Sophie’s already in the bowl and causing the little girl to burst into a fit of giggles.

“When’s Daddy coming home?” she asks.

“When his boss tell him he can come home.”

“Like when Miss May says I can go home?”

“Exactly like that.”

"Miss May says we’re gonna learn about dinosaurs next week.”

“I bet you’ll be a big help. You already know so much about dinosaurs.”

“I’m so smart.”

“Yes, you are. You’re the smartest girl I know.”

“I know all about the dinosaurs that eat plants. And the ones that eat meat.”

“Do you know what a tyrannosaurus rex’s favourite meal to eat is?”

Sophie takes a moment to think about it, her eyebrows dipping down to pinch together. She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and looks up at Louis with wide eyes before she slowly shakes her head.

“Little girls,” Louis signs, before he reaches across the table for Sophie’s arm, pretending to chomp on it.

Sophie squeals and yanks her arm away. She jumps down from her seat and dashes out of the kitchen, but Louis is quick to follow, chasing her down the corridor and into the lounge. Her laughter echoes around them, swirling and bouncing off the walls, filling Louis’ chest with a lightness he didn’t even know was possible. He traps her near the big arm chair and scoops her up, blowing a big raspberry on her stomach. He tosses her gently onto the sofa, making her giggle more as she bounces.

“You were a very yummy dinner,” Louis signs before rubbing his stomach over dramatically.

“You’re silly.”

Just then, the timer goes off. Louis picks Sophie back up and carries her to the kitchen. He sets her back down at the table while he gets the chicken out of the oven and smashes the potatoes. He prepares Sophie’s plate, cutting up her chicken into bite size pieces and getting her a cup of milk, before joining her at the table with his own.

After dinner, Louis gives Sophie a bath and helps her change into her pyjamas. He brushes her hair and braids it.

“You braid better than Daddy,” Sophie says as Louis puts a hairgrip on the last braid.

“I have five sisters,” Louis explains.

Sophie gasps at this new reveal, bouncing up and down on her knees on the mattress.

“I want a sister.”

“Maybe one day you can meet mine.”

“Please please please.”

“We’ll see but. But it’s bedtime now.”

Louis shifts off the mattress and helps Sophie under the blankets. He tucks her all in and hands her her plushie stegosaurus named Herman. He presses a kiss to her forehead as Sophie cuddles down against her pillow, Herman tucked securely in her arms. Louis hits the light switch on the way out, leaving her bedroom door cracked before heading back downstairs.

Louis plops back onto the sofa, letting the television settle on a random channel. He digs his phone out of his pocket, sending off a quick text to Harry asking how everything is going. He somehow gets wrapped into learning how footballs are made, finding the methodical movements of the factory machines both fascinating and relaxing to watch.

He’s just started to watch how gum is made when a piercing scream echoes from upstairs. Louis is to his feet in a flash, running up the stairs and bursting into Sophie’s room. Sophie is sitting up in bed, Herman clutched to her chest and tears streaming down her face. Louis rushes forward, gathering the little girl up in his arms and settling her down on his lap. Sophie burrows instantly into his chest, and each new sob that wracks through her body carves a new break into Louis’ heart.

Louis rocks Sophie gently back and forth, one hand petting her hair while the other rubs circles into her back. Slowly but surely her sobs subside to soft sniffles, and Louis pulls back enough to wipe the tears from her cheeks with a gentle thumb.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Louis asks.

Sophie nods, her bottom lip starting to tremble again. Louis hugs her close and stands up, carrying her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He sets her down on the kitchen counter before digging up some hot cocoa from the cupboard. With two mugs of hot cocoa in hand, Louis carries Sophie into the lounge and sets her down on the sofa. He digs through the Style’s film collection for something to help her calm down, settling on A Bug’s Life.

As soon as Louis returns to the sofa after putting the film in, Sophie clambers right back into his lap. He holds her close as she drinks her hot cocoa and watches the film. When her eyes start to droop, Louis pulls the mug from her hand, setting it down on the coffee table to avoid a spill. It’s not long after that that Sophie falls back asleep, curled up against his chest.

Louis doesn’t have the heart to put her back to bed just yet, in case she has another nightmare. Instead, he shifts to lay back, so she’ll be more comfortable and grabs the blanket from the back of the sofa to drape over them both. Louis doesn’t even realise he’s fallen asleep until there’s gentle fingers carding through his hair. He leans into the touch, a tired sigh pulling its way out of his lungs.

“Lou…”

Louis slowly blinks his eyes open, Harry’s soft smile coming into view. His eyes are particularly bright and fond despite having come off a long work day, but Louis decides not to dwell on it. He takes in the room around him, noticing the darkness, the harsh glare of the television as the DVD symbol bounces across it, the abandoned mugs.

“Sorry,” Louis mutters, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes.

“What’re you apologizing for?” Harry asks, carefully picking Sophie up off Louis’ chest. “I’ll go put her to bed.”

Harry disappears out of the lounge with Sophie, and Louis sits up. He stretches his arms up above his head before collecting the mugs and setting them in the sink. He then heads towards the front door, grabbing his shoes from the entryway.

“What’re you doing?” Harry asks from behind him.

“Heading out…?”

“Lou, it’s late, and you’re clearly exhausted. Just stay here tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” Harry says, taking Louis’ shoes from him before grabbing his hand and leading him up the stairs.

Louis’ never set foot in Harry’s room before, and he’s not sure what he expects. The room is simple: a wooden chest of drawers against one wall and a large bed in the centre. The duvet and pillows are plush and white, and Louis is sure that when the morning sun comes through the mesh curtains, it’ll look just like a cloud. There’s a painting hanging on one wall and more family photos scattered around. Somehow, it seems very Harry and Louis finds he loves that.

Harry goes over to the chest of drawers and pulls out two pairs of trackies, offering one to Louis. They change in silence before clambering into bed together. Louis shifts around until he gets comfortable, rolling onto his side to face Harry who’s already watching him. He’s pulled his hair back in a bun, but a few of the shorter strands have escaped, splaying out across his pillow.

“You make a great dad, you know,” Harry says, keeping his voice low and quiet.

“Not as good as you.”

“No, I think you’re trying to take my top spot.”

Louis doesn’t know what to say to that, instead just letting the peaceful quiet wash over them. It’s somehow perfect, wrapped up in the big bed with this beautiful boy. A little voice whispers to never leave, and Louis doesn’t know whether to be terrified or excited about that prospect. Harry leans forward then, pressing their lips together in a sweet kiss. It’s short, but perfect, and Louis keeps his eyes closed for a moment and lets out a soft sigh as Harry pulls away.

The bed shifts, and when Louis opens his eyes again, Harry has rolled over onto his other side.

“I like to be the little spoon. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Never.”

Louis scoots forwards along the mattress, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and pressing his face into the junction between Harry’s shoulder and neck. He feels Harry bring a hand up to intertwine their fingers and Louis gives his hand a squeeze. Their legs slot together easily, and Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s shoulder, feeling the goose-pimples arise.

“Night, Lou,” Harry whispers.

“Night, H.”

Harry falls asleep right away, clearly exhausted from a long work day, and his even breathing and soft snores fill Louis’ senses. It floods his veins and uncoils every muscle of his being, leaving relaxed contentment in its wake. Louis closes his eyes, but he can’t help but think about all the feelings rushing through him. Excitement, happiness, and that spark of love. Just the thought of waking up with Harry in his arms and Sophie running in begging for breakfast leaves his chest expanding with a warmth Louis didn’t even know was possible. It leaves a tingle that starts in his heart and sparks straight to his fingers and toes. It leaves his head feeling dizzy in the best sort of way. And Louis feels like he’s finally found his place, like the last piece of the puzzle has slotted into place.

Somehow, Louis helping a lost little girl in the park turned into him finding his home, and he’d never change that for the world.

When summer rolls back around, Louis doesn’t find himself wandering through the park admiring everything. Instead, he finds himself at the beach. The sun still shines like a beacon in the blue expanse of the sky, reflecting off the rippling waves of the sea. And Louis can still feel the rays licking at his skin, building the warmth already carved into his bones.

Harry is settled in a beach chair beside him, sunglasses perched on his nose and book nestled in his lap. The sun bounces off his hair and skin, leaving him surrounded by a glow.

Sophie is plopped in the sand at Louis’ feet. Her bright pink suit stands out stark against her sun-cream slathered skin. She’s abandoned her bright green pail and sandcastle to scoop sand over Louis’ feet. She lets it trickle through her fingers until Louis’ feet are completely buried. Louis wiggles his toes free, like monsters bursting out of the ground, and it sends Sophie into a fit of giggles. She falls back onto the sand, laughter bubbling out of her as her feet kick out. It tugs at Louis’ heartstrings in the best way.

Sophie goes back to covering his now exposed toes again, and Louis looks up and catches Harry’s eyes, his smile soft but beautiful. Louis smiles right back before scooping Sophie up. They skip down to the water hand in hand and splash in the waves and look for seashells until the sun starts to sink lower and lower in the sky.

When they decide to call it a day, Harry carries Sophie and Louis carries their chairs and beach bag back up to their beach house, and once inside, they switch, Harry preparing dinner while Louis gives Sophie a bath, washing away all the sand and salt from another perfect day.

After dinner, all three snuggle up on the sofa, Ratatouille playing on the television. Harry and Sophie barely make it to the part where Remy and Linguini decide to team up before they conk out, drained from a day in the sun. And even though Harry’s soft snores are filling his ears and his leg has gone slightly numb from not moving in so long, Louis wouldn’t have it any other way.

He has one curly head perched on his shoulder, another nestled in his lap, and it’s then that he truly realises that you don’t have to hear ‘I love you’ to feel it.

FIN