If I could fly (BOOK 2)

Just three weeks

Tour restart crept up on them again.

Suitcases reappeared by the door. Schedules refilled phones. That familiar ache settled into the house-heavier now, because there was more to leave.

This round wouldn't be long.
Just three weeks.

Harry reminded her of that more than once, like saying it out loud might make it easier.

"I'll be home before you know it," he murmured the morning he left, forehead pressed to hers. "Before you can even miss me properly."

Y/N smiled, but she didn't pack.

She stayed.

Not because she didn't want to go-but because the house needed her. The new place still echoed in certain rooms, still smelled unfamiliar. She wanted to soften it before he came back. Curtains. Furniture. Lamps that cast warm light instead of harsh shadows. Small things that made it feel lived-in instead of borrowed.

Harry knew it too.

He kissed Darcy's cheek, lingered there longer than necessary, then pressed his credit card into Y/N's palm before she could protest.

"For the house," he said simply.

She raised an eyebrow. "Harry."

He smiled, fond and steady. "I trust you."

She laughed softly, curling her fingers around it. "You really shouldn't."

"I absolutely should," he said, kissing her one last time. "Make it ours."

Then he was gone.

⸻

The house felt louder without him.

Not noisy-just aware of itself.

Y/N moved through it slowly with Darcy tucked against her shoulder, making lists in her head. Measuring walls. Sitting on the floor with her back against the couch while Darcy babbled happily, unaware that her mum was quietly trying to build a sense of home from scratch.

At night, when Darcy finally slept, Y/N curled up on the couch with her phone and waited for Harry's call.
Sometimes he sounded exhausted. Sometimes wired. Always careful with his words, like he didn't want to admit how much he missed them.

"You should see what you've done to the living room," she said one night, voice tinny through the phone. He laughed. "I'm scared."

"You should be," she teased softly. "I've had access to your money and opinions."

He laughed, then went quiet. "I wish I was there."

"I know baby," she said gently. "But we're okay."

And they were.

⸻

A few nights later, after Darcy had finally settled, Y/N was halfway through assembling something that definitely did not come with enough instructions when her phone buzzed.

A message from Harry.

Zayn's being weird.

She frowned and typed back immediately.

Weird how?

A few seconds passed.

He keeps starting to say something and stopping, Harry replied.

Says it can wait. Says it's nothing. It doesn't feel like nothing.

Y/N stared at the screen, Darcy's soft breathing the only sound in the room.

That doesn't sound like nothing, she typed.

Yeah, Harry replied. I know.

They let it sit there-unanswered, unfinished.

Later, after she'd crawled into bed, Y/N lay awake longer than she meant to, thinking about half-sentences and unsaid things, about how life felt like it was always balancing on the edge of something.

⸻

A few days later, Darcy did something new.

Y/N had laid her on the play mat while she folded laundry, humming quietly to herself. Darcy stared up at the ceiling, fists clenched, face serious with concentration.

"Alright," Y/N murmured. "What are you plotting?"

Darcy shifted.

Then slowly-awkwardly-rolled.

Onto her stomach.

Y/N froze.

"Holy shit," she whispered. "Oh-Darcy."

Darcy blinked, confused but proud, then let out a small triumphant sound like she'd just figured out a secret.

Y/N laughed and cried at the same time, scooping her up and kissing her face over and over.

"You did it," she whispered. "You really did it."

She sent a video immediately.

Harry replied less than a minute later.

She rolled??

Then:

I miss everything.

Y/N swallowed hard, smiling through it.

You'll be home soon, she typed. And she'll do a hundred new things just for you.

There was a pause.

Then:

I can't wait.

Y/N lay back against the pillows with Darcy tucked against her chest, the house quiet around them.

Somewhere across the country, Harry was carrying something heavy he hadn't said out loud yet.

And here-alone but steady-Y/N kept building a home they'd all come back to.