Honey Rain

Chapter Twenty-Six

My deep and peaceful sleep was interrupted by the echo of tiny cries coming from our daughter's nursery. I had my head lulled on my husband's shoulder, the way I always sleep, and sluggishly turned up to see if he had woken up from the noise, but he was still out like a light. Some might assume that after four-going-on-five years of marriage to the boy that I'd grow tired of cuddling him at night and start wanting my space, but no. Loving him was perhaps the only constant in our busy and changing lives.

I detangled my limbs from his and purposely ignored the clock as I made my way to the hall, knowing it was some ungodly hour of the night. Having an infant involved lots of waking up and seeing times on the clock that you've never seen before.

I pulled a loose-fitting jumper over my tattooed chest with what little energy I had and stepped quietly out of our bedroom, forcing my tired eyes to stay open. I pinched my cheek perhaps a bit too hard to wake myself up a bit and closed the door on my way out, not wanting to wake Harry up. At least one of us should be allowed a full night's rest.

I walked to our baby's crib with sleep still clinging to my body. The sounds of her crying were much louder up close. White moonlight beamed in through the bedroom window, illuminating the cold floor beneath my bare feet. The air felt chilly for an early April night, but it was much more pleasant than our first month with her in February. She had been born only a couple weeks after Harry's birthday, just after Valentine's day.

I bent down and scooped her into my arms, the material of her yellow onesie was soft against my skin. "Shh, it's alright, darling, you're alright. Daddy's got you."

She had quieted her blubbering slightly, cooing and letting out soft cries in my arms. I rocked her gently, a small smile spreading over my face despite my tiredness. I kissed her tiny forehead.

She hiccupped and continued her hushed sobs, showing no sign of stopping soon. My movements were slow and laggard as I walked to the dresser and picked up a blue and pink pacifier, slipping it into her mouth. She happily sucked on the soft rubber of the toy.

I could tell that she, thankfully, didn't need her diaper changed, being able to feel that it was completely dry through the fabric of her pajamas. She wasn't hungry either. I had memorized the sounds and the body language that she displayed when she needed to eat.

"Did you have a nightmare?" I whispered, my voice still gravelly from having just waking up.

She continued teething at the pacifier, staring up at me with those wide, dazzling green eyes that matched Harry's so perfectly. I snugly held my baby girl in my arms, shushing and murmuring softly.

I adjusted her so that I could hold her entirely in one arm, crouching down to pick up a stuffed animal from her crib. She babbled happily at the sight of her favorite teddy, the one her godfather Niall had given her when she was first born. He had gotten her initials printed on its hand. DGT; Darcy Grace Tomlinson. He had always liked my last name, and was thrilled when Harry took it as his own. She stuck her little hands out.

"I think Mister Monkey wants to see you." I held the toy up to her, using my index finger to make it seem like the animal was waving at her. She cooed and wrapped her short fingers around the monkeys leg, pulling it to her body.

She clutched the stuffie in her arms and continued sucking at her pacifier, seeming content. I smiled in relief.

"You're really keeping me on my toes, little one."

She babbled and tightened her hold around the monkey, not understanding a word I was saying. I swayed gently back and forth to sooth her.

"Sometimes when I can't sleep, your papa will tell me a story. Would you like for me to tell you a story, sweetheart?"