With A Little Kindness (Larry Stylinson)

Where To From Here?

Harry's dreams bleed into his consciousness as he transitions between asleep and awake. The feeling of Louis' hand on his thigh, his lips against Harry's, his breath on his cheek, whispering words in his raspy tone that Harry can't quite decipher. He tries to hold on, to keep the dream alive, but it drifts further away the more he tries to pull it back. Eventually he gives in and opens his eyes. He's overslept, that much is clear by the fact that Tilly is already at the table playing quietly with her Peppa house, her hair sticking up in all directions as she plays out a little scene with the figurines.

"Morning, sweetheart," Harry croaks out, voice rough from sleep.

"Morning, mummy. You were snoring really loud," she states simply without looking up and Harry snorts out a laugh.

"Sorry. You should've woken me up."

"You need your pretty sleep," she says and jumps down off the chair.

It takes Harry a few beats to understand what she was trying to say. "My beauty sleep?"

"Mhmmm..." Tilly hums as Harry lifts the covers and she climbs up onto the sofa bed, digging her feet under the blankets. "You need some."

"Oh, do I?" Harry chuckles and wraps the blanket over the top of her and she lays her head on his outstretched arm.

She looks up at him, frowning as she pokes at his cheeks and under his eyes. "Oh! Your eyes are happy today."

"Are they?" Harry smiles and she touches the skin beside his eyes.

"They've been sad," she says and lets her palm rest on his cheek.

Harry often forgets how perceptive she is. "Well, I have been a bit sad. But I'm happier now. Someone who I've been missing is coming over tonight."

She furrows her brow and Harry watches as recognition lands. Her eyes go wide at Harry's statement and then, like she's afraid to say the words too loud in case she's wrong, she whispers, "Louis?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

Harry feels her whole body vibrate against him, bursting with excitement. "Really?!"

"Yeah. He'll be at six for dinner. He's bringing pizza too."

"I love pizza. Presents too?"

"No, not this time, darling. We can't expect Louis to buy us things all the time."

"Flowers?"

Harry chuckles. "He might. We'll just have to wait and see. But isn't it enough of a present just to spend some time with him?"

Harry waits while Tilly contemplates his words carefully and Harry can practically see the wheels turning in her head. "Yes," she says finally. It's so simple and honest and pure and Harry is so proud of her. "Can I make Louis a present?"

"I think that'd be lovely."

She climbs out of the bed and skips over to her craft box near the telly. "I'm gonna draw Louis pictures. For his fridge."

His daughter really doesn't miss a trick. "I think Louis would love that," Harry says around a yawn and sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and stretching out his back. He folds up his bed and stowes the bedding in the utility room cupboard before coming back to the kitchen and filling the kettle, setting it to boil. Till's already got her paper and pencils laid and is part way through a masterpiece. "What are you going to draw?"

"Us. All together," Tilly answers as Harry opens the fridge to get the milk. "Then he won't forget us again."

Harry freezes, staring into the fridge as his heart clenches in his chest. Shit. They'd spoken briefly about why Louis had stopped coming around, but Harry hadn't elaborated too much, uncertain of how much Louis' sudden disappearance had really registered with her. Clearly, it had been more impactful than Harry had realised. He sits down at the table opposite her, watching as she draws a big black blob of curly hair which he assumes is Clifford.