Letters to Lou *Larry Stylinson*

Age 12

"Joyeux noel, joyeux noel! JOYEUX NO-"

"Darcy! Inside voices, please." Harry begs from the kitchen, the scent of warm macaroni wafting to where Darcy was sprawled out on the living room carpet.

"Pourquoi, mon père? Tu adores ma voix." Darcy singsongs with elegant hand gestures. Nonetheless, she quiets down, and Harry relaxes his shoulders, crumbling a few bread crumbs onto the macaroni before-

"JOYEUX NOEL, JOYEUX NOEELLL-"

"DARCY!" Harry shouts in surprise from the kitchen, nearly spilling a pot of soup on the stove.

"Papa, inside voices please."

Harry grumbles to himself in the kitchen while stirring the soup, watching as the steam spiraled up towards the ceiling. In the living room, Darcy hums to herself, and the tune just seems so familiar. Harry wracks his brain for the words to the song, but only draws up a blank. Sighing, Harry stares aimlessly at the swirling soup as Darcy continued to hum, his mind drifting off.

"Wouldn't it be nice if we were older-"

"Shhh! Lou, my parents don't know your over-"

"Then we wouldn't have to wait so looonnng,"

"Lou-"

"And wouldn't it be nice to live together,"

"Ughhh!"

"In the kind of world where we belonngg!"

"LOU!"

"Shhh, Harry. Your parents don't know I'm over!"

"Hey, Papa? Something smells burnt."Harry snaps his head up at Darcy's voice and looks down to see something indeed burning.

"Bloody h-

"Papa!" Darcy scolds, as Harry swipes the pot off the stove and dumps the burnt contents into the sink.

"Well," Harry sighs, "there goes the soup. Just macaroni tonight, Dar Dar."

Despite the loss, Darcy squeals and shoots up from the carpet. Grabbing two plates and utensils, she sets everything out on the small dinner table before plopping down on a chair. Soon enough, Harry emerges from the kitchen carrying the pan of macaroni.

"Mmm..." Darcy hums hungrily. Harry chuckles, sliding into a chair himself. After dishing out a scoopful of macaroni, the small dining room is filled with the sound of scraping silverware.

"It's gonna be a quiet one this year, isn't it?" Darcy asks, although it comes out more as a statement. Her voice didn't show any particular emotion, although the noodles sliding around her plate seemed a little disappointed.

"Well, Uncle Zayn and Aunt Perrie are taking Alicia to Disneyland." Harry says, cringing on how much more eventful that was than a macaroni dinner. "Uncle Niall and Aunt Barbara are in Ireland, and Uncle Li and Auntie Soph are snowed in. Just going to be you and me this year."

The dining room is quiet again, before Darcy pops her head back up from her plate.

"Feels kinda empty, doesn't it?" Darcy asks, setting down her fork. "If only Dad were here."

Harry chuckles, wiping his mouth on a napkin. "Well, why don't you write Daddy that, and he'll tell Santa to send you some company."

Darcy rolls her eyes as she reaches across the table for Harry's small glass of wine. Harry smirks in amusement as Darcy's face scrunches at the burning alcohol, setting the glass of wine back quickly. "I'm sure Santa will come flying over last minute Christmas eve for some special delivery." she says sarcastically, scooping another serving of macaroni.

Harry shrugs his shoulders. "Hey, Daddy is Santa's favorite elf. Our household has connections. You never know."

Darcy lets out a short laugh. "But really, I wish Dad was here. I think it'd be a lot louder." Darcy muses, cringing as Harry takes a sip of his wine.

"Yup, a lot louder. You'd probably know an extra naughty word or two." Harry adds, ignoring the "he'd probably be more fun than you" Darcy muttered under her breath.

"But just imagine how much fuller this house would be. Wouldn't it be nice?" Darcy sighs dreamily.

You know it seems the more we talk about it

It only makes it worse to live without it

"Yep," Harry says, popping the 'p.' "But expect a few burnt meals once in a while."

Darcy giggles, her eyes lighting up with glee. "Ooh! Maybe I'd even have a little sister!"

"Named Anne." Harry adds, remembering the original plan.

But lets talk about it

Wouldn't it be nice

Darcy smiles at the name, imagining a sister whose hair she could braid or teach all the new things she'd learned. After dinner wrapped up, Harry set to washing the dishes as Darcy's typewriter clicked away upstairs. By the time everything was cleaned up, the clicking of the typewriter had stopped, although light still peaked through the door. Tiptoeing upstairs, Harry eased open Darcy's door to see the table lamp on and Darcy herself slumped over asleep on the desk, still before the typewriter. Glancing at the typewriter, Harry skimmed the first line.

Dear Daddy,

Harry's eyes glided down the page, a bit surprised and gleeful that Darcy still wrote these things.

This year's Christmas is a little bit lonely. Papa and I talked about how I was going to have a sister named Anne. It was fun to imagine, but kinda hurt afterwards knowing that it'll never happen. I'd never tell Papa this, because I don't want him to feel like he's not enough, but sometimes I can't help but wish I was born into another life where maybe you'd stick around. Papa says if you were here, all the food would be burnt. Even so, I'd rather have burnt food if it meant a loud dinner table or more arms in a hug.

Harry swears to himself the wetness in his eyes is from the dusty lamp, but he could only lie to himself so much. Next to him Darcy stirs, to which Harry scooped her up, happy that he wasn't too old to accomplish such a feat. Carefully, Harry deposits Darcy under the covers and unbraids her hair, letting the brown strands fan across her pillow. Glancing back at the typewriter, Harry slips out the paper and folds it three times to put in an envelope. He switches off the lamp and crouches by Darcy's nightstand, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Good night my baby

Harry eases out the door and walks straight to the coat closet, tugging on a thick jacket and boots. With a quick glance at Darcy's door, Harry unlocks the front door and steps into the windy cold. Louis was going to get this letter if Harry had anything to do about it, and Santa was going to make sure Darcy never has another lonely day in her life again. Even if it meant stepping in several inches of snow and miles of driving, Harry was going to make sure this was the last lonely Christmas.

Sleep tight my baby

Yay, another chapter... kinda longer this time! If you are reading these words right now... THANK YOU :)-Clayla