Harry sighs softly, staring at the illuminated screen in front of him. He reads through his final chapter one more time, looking for errors he knows aren't there. He just can't believe he's finally done. The book is written, all thats left to do is find an editor.
"Papa?"
Harry looks up from the screen to see Emily standing there, in her pyjamas. She's pouting, rubbing her eyes while Harry glances at the clock. He frowns. "'S late, bug," He says softly. "What're you doin' up?"
"My tummy hurts," Emily says. Harry twists his mouth, watching as Emily walks over and climbs onto his bed. He runs his fingers through her curly hair, lowering the screen of his laptop. He knows Emily, and knows that when her tummy hurts it usually means she's anxious about something.
"Why do you think your tummy hurts, Em?" Harry asks gently, moving his laptop to his bedside table so Emily can lay her head in his lap. Emily does, closing her eyes as Harry brushes her hair out of her face.
"I don't know," She mumbles. Harry gives her a soft smile.
"I think you do, pet," He points out. Emily frowns, still not opening her eyes.
"I don't wanna go to Daddy's tomorrow," She admits softly. Harry furrows his eyebrows, continuing to play with her hair.
"Why?" He asks, although he's seen this coming for a while. He's found the older Emily gets, the more wary she is of Louis and his false promises. He knows it would honestly break Louis' heart is Emily decided not to spend time with him, but at the same time, it is his fault.
"Daddy's flat is...dirty," Emily hesitates, like she feels bad for saying it. Harry hums. "And we don't really do anything, and I think he likes Katie more than me."
"Babe, he loves you both equally," Harry assures, and he really does believe that. Katie is just so much like Louis, he thinks they connect more than he does with Emily. He sees himself in her, has a soft spot for her. Anytime Harry tries to address it, the fact that Emily thinks Louis loves Katie more, Louis shuts him down. Tells him he's ridiculous. The gaslighting never stops.
Emily doesn't say anything. Harry strokes her cheek gently with his knuckles. "Look, if you really feel uncomfortable going to Daddy's, I would never make you go," He assures softly. "But he really, really looks forward to seeing you girls. Both of you. Maybe...bring one of your books? So if you get bored, you have something to do?"
Emily frowns, but she nods. "Okay," She says quietly. Harry leans down and kisses her forehead, brushing her hair out of her face.
"And you know if you want to leave, ask Daddy to use his phone to call me," He reminds. "He'll let you."
"I know," Emily nods. Harry gives her a small smile.
"Okay," He can't help but feel guilt tugging at his chest. "I love you, Emily Anne."
"I know," Emily repeats, giggling when Harry shows an offended expression. "I love you too, Papa."
"Good," He smiles, content. "You can chill with me for a little, if you want, but you should go to bed soon."
"Can you just come tuck me in?" Emily asks shyly. Harry's smile turns fond. She hasn't asked him to do that in a while, claiming she's too big for that now.
"Sure," Emily climbs off the bed, Harry getting up and following her to her room. She crawls into bed, Harry tucking her in with the duvet and leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Love you, Em. Sweet dreams."
"G'night," Emily smiles, closing her eyes and holding a stuffed bear, one Anne had gotten her when she was born, to her chest.
♛
