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“Welcome to the world, little man.” she whispered shakily, exhaustion in every cell but suddenly rejuvenated at the sight of this squirming, squinting bundle of life.
Trembling fingers stroked delicate skin, eyes raked over every inch of his tiny form. She was already in love with this wrinkled little angel and so proud to hand him over to others with adoration in their eyes. Secure in the knowledge that this love is forever.
“Happy birthday, angel.” she cooed. “It’s just you and me against the world, you know. And you are going to own it all, my little prince.”
Eyes full of laughter and love as he huffed and puffed at his one candle, trying, and failing, to make that elusive wish. Chubby hands clapped with glee as the candle finally (mysteriously) was blown out. She mouthed a silent wish against the softness of his hair, “Joy.” A circle of love wrapped around the tiny family of two. Indestructible.
“Happy birthday, Louis!!!” a cacophony of voices called out.
Louis looked around at the grinning faces of his parents and sisters, all waiting expectantly for him to blow out his candles. With a dramatic intake of air, he blasted out the candles. A snapshot of the moment - applause, joyous laughter, all eyes on him. Her eyes on him, glazed over with a vision of a future where he remains forever loved. “Believe in your dreams.” she wished.
“Happy birthday, Lou.” he said shyly, pressing a gift into Louis’ hands.
Soft eyes glanced up from beneath thick lashes; nearly took his breath away. She looked over at her boy, her boys, and made more room in her heart when she saw the way they looked at each other. “His forever.” she thought. She looked around at the faces, young and old, but all focused on the love for her boy. She reflected and wished, “Always find your way home.” A little shrug escaped for those who chose to be missing. Her bountiful life leaves no room for regret - the love, the music, the laughter all take over.
“Birtay, Achouuuuu!” they squealed in unison; chubby faces covered in ringlets and kisses.
Laughter follows in the ever-increasing crowd around the table, wine more common than soft-drink; high on sugar, on love, on life. A deep baritone laugh cut through the throng of voices and she watched her boy’s eyes light up at the sound before closing again at the softest kiss. Her heart overflowed as she looked at her loves, at her first and deepest love. There was almost no need for wishes when they had so much, so instead, she wished “May you always look for ways to make others as happy as you make me.” The warm glow reflected off the rich tapestry of her life as she looked around at the people, the food, the photos and the laughing faces. Her eyes flitted from face to face, etching this moment in her mind for when the weather is colder or the world is colder still.
“Happy birthday, Lou!” they said as they wrapped him a tight, long hug.
Little arms around each leg, two more pairs wrapped around his torso as they pressed their faces in their brother’s chest, topped by his two eldest sisters with arms wrapped around his shoulders (when did Fiz get so tall?) and heads nestled into his neck. Holding him together, holding each other together. From the wishes, to the longest of hugs and now the softest of sniffles as each person waged their own personal war to make this birthday a joyous event. It’s what she would have wanted.
He’s been the strongest, all the way through, and so he takes it on himself to lightly tickle Daisy and Phoebe, making them squeak and pull away, followed by the older girls, discreetly turning to brush away tears. Louis then showed the baby twins his patented “Tickle Monster” fingers and everyone laughed as they ran, screeching, through the house.
Dan looked at Louis with grateful eyes, brimming with tears, before embracing him in the tightest of hugs. “You’re an amazing testament to your mother, Louis, she would be so proud.”
Louis shakily nods before croaking out his thanks and running to distract himself with noise and pandemonium. It’s exactly what she would have wanted.
He’s sitting on his own at an open window, willing in Christmas Day, sipping a steaming mug of tea and smoking a cigarette, when he’s engulfed by his boy’s hug. Harry removes the cup and smoke from Louis’ hands as he sits behind him and pulls Louis between his legs and to his chest.
“You give the best hugs,” Louis says, before correcting. “...the second best hugs.” with a whisper.
“Shhhh.” his love sighs against his ear. “We’re both here.”
Louis turns to face his boy, seeing the unspoken acceptance that this is the safe space where he doesn’t have to be strong. The cold air makes the torrent of tears on their faces sting as they sit, wracked with sobs but secure in each other's arms until the pull of the stars calms their hearts. Harry, all the while stroking Louis’ hair and back, starts peppering kisses along his love’s neck, finally encouraging him to look up from the depths of his despair.
The two turn to face the night sky again, dreaming of infinite universes of possibilities and futures.
A shooting star crosses the path of their gaze and they gasp as they each make a silent wish.
“An end to his pain.”
“I live up to her legacy.”
Harry pulls his boy closer as they hold on to each other.
A gentle breeze, like the caress of a hand, brushes past his cheek, drying the last of his tears, for now.
“Happy birthday, Boo, I love you.”