If I could fly (BOOK 2)

Six months

Six months old looked different on Darcy.

She wasn't just there anymore - she was present.

She sat on the hotel bed between them with only a pillow behind her for safety, back straight enough to wobble but not fall, hands busy with the hem of Harry's T-shirt like it was the most important thing in the world. Her legs kicked when she got excited now, strong and purposeful, heels thumping softly against the mattress.

Harry lay on his side facing her, one elbow propped under his head, eyes still tired from the night before - from the goodbye, from the grief, from everything he hadn't said out loud yet.

Darcy babbled to him like she was telling a story.

"Yeah?" he murmured softly. "Tell me more."

She answered with a delighted squeal, then leaned forward suddenly, balance tipping. Harry caught her easily, instinctively, pulling her back against his chest.

"There you go," he whispered. "I've got you."

She settled immediately, like she trusted that completely.

Harry closed his eyes.

The noise of the arena, the weight of Zayn leaving, the ache in his chest - it all dulled just a little with her warm weight against him. He pressed a kiss into her hair and breathed her in.

"You make it quieter," he told her. "You know that?"

Darcy responded by grabbing his necklace and trying to chew on it.

He laughed softly. A real laugh this time.
Y/N watched from the doorway, arms folded loosely, letting them have the moment. She didn't interrupt when Harry lifted Darcy and rested his forehead against hers, eyes closing like he was grounding himself in the now.

After a while, Harry spoke again - quieter.

"I think we should go away."

Y/N stepped closer. "Away?"

"Just... us," he said. "Somewhere with no schedule. No press. No rehearsals." He glanced down at Darcy. "Before everything else happens."

Y/N sat beside him on the bed. "The wedding's in a month."

"That's exactly why," he said gently. "I don't want to walk into it already exhausted. I want to remember what it feels like when it's just us."

Darcy chose that moment to sit up on her own - wobbling, concentrating, face scrunched in determination.

Harry's breath caught. "Look at you."

She stayed upright for a full three seconds before tipping sideways into his arm.

He laughed again, softer this time, eyes shining.

"You're doing everything so fast," he murmured. "I can't keep up."

Y/N reached out, brushing her thumb across his knuckles. "You don't have to. You're right here."

Harry nodded, eyes still on Darcy. "I just want to breathe with you both before the world starts again."

Darcy babbled, loud and happy, like she agreed.

Harry smiled - slower now, steadier - and pulled them both close.

"Alright," he whispered. "We'll go somewhere quiet."

For the first time since the final show, the tightness in his chest loosened.

Six months in.

One month to go.

And somehow, for the first time in a while, Harry felt ready.