If I could fly (BOOK 2)

First food

The coast smelled like salt and endings.

Harry felt it the second they stepped out of the car - the way the air opened his chest instead of pressing on it, the way the noise in his head finally quieted. No schedules. No cameras. No countdowns taped to walls.

Just sea.

Y/N stood beside him, Darcy warm against her shoulder, all three of them facing the water like they were bracing themselves for something gentle and inevitable.

"This already feels like cheating," Y/N said softly.

Harry huffed a quiet laugh. "Good. I needed to cheat a little."

The cottage was small in the best way - pale wood, big windows, a porch that looked straight out at the water. The waves rolled in slow and steady, like they had nowhere else to be.

Darcy noticed first.

She sat in Harry's arms as they stepped inside, body stiff with curiosity. Her head turned sharply toward the sound of the ocean, eyes widening, mouth falling open.

"Well," Harry murmured. "That's it. She's decided this is home."

Darcy squealed like she agreed.

⸻

By the second morning, everything felt slower.

Harry spread a blanket on the porch, sunlight warming the boards beneath it. Darcy sat between his legs, back straight, wobbling only slightly now - six months old and determined, hands planted in front of her like she meant business.

Y/N crouched in front of her, holding out a small spoon.

"Okay," she said gently. "First food. Be kind."

Darcy stared at the spoon like it had personally offended her.

Harry laughed. "She's judging you."

The spoon touched Darcy's lips.

Her face scrunched instantly - pure betrayal.

Harry gasped. "Oh no. She hates it. She's absolutely my-"

Darcy swallowed.

Paused.

Then leaned forward and grabbed the spoon with both hands.

Y/N laughed, eyes bright. "Oh. She wants more."

Harry felt it then - that sudden, swelling ache in his chest that came with watching her become something new.

"That's one of those moments," he said quietly. "The kind you don't forget."

Darcy babbled happily, smearing food everywhere, sitting tall and proud like she knew she was doing something important.

Harry wiped her chin with his sleeve, voice softer. "You're growing too fast."

Darcy leaned back against him, balanced and trusting.
He closed his eyes for a second.

⸻

That afternoon, music drifted through the cottage.
Nothing loud. Just something soft from Harry's phone while the windows were open and the ocean filled the space between notes.

Darcy froze.

Her head turned sharply toward the sound.

"Harry," Y/N whispered.

Darcy went completely still - eyes locked, body quiet - then she started moving. Tiny bounces. Little kicks. Hands lifting and dropping in rhythm like she was discovering something sacred.

Harry sat down slowly, heart climbing into his throat. "She hears it."

Darcy squealed, bouncing harder now, unmistakably delighted.

Harry laughed - then stopped, emotion crashing over him.

"She feels it," he said hoarsely.

Y/N knelt beside him, threading her fingers through his. "Of course she does."

Darcy tipped sideways into Harry's chest, and he caught her instantly, pressing his forehead to her hair.

"You're going to ruin me," he whispered. "Every day."

⸻

The nights were quieter than he expected.

Darcy slept early, worn out by salt air and discovery. Harry and Y/N sat wrapped in blankets on the porch, knees touching, the sound of waves filling the silence.

After a while, Y/N spoke.

"The wedding's really close," she said softly.

Harry nodded. "I know. Less than a month."

That landed differently out here - heavier, sharper. Like this wasn't just a break, but a breath before a leap.

"Does that scare you?" she asked.

He thought for a moment. "Yeah," he said honestly. "But not because of you. Because I want to walk into it whole. Not tired. Not pulled in ten directions."

She leaned into him. "That's why this matters."

Harry kissed the top of her head. "This feels like the last quiet chapter."

She smiled faintly. "The calm before vows."

They sat with that.

Then Harry spoke again, carefully. "Do you ever think about... after?"

Y/N tilted her head. "After the wedding?"

"After everything," he said. "More mornings like this. Maybe... another baby. One day. Not now."

Her breath caught - not with fear, but with how right it felt.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I think about that too."

Harry let out a slow breath, relief written all over him. "Good."

Inside, Darcy shifted in her sleep, letting out a soft, content sound through the monitor.

Harry smiled, eyes closing.

Six months in.

Less than a month to go.

And for the first time in a long while, the future didn't feel like something chasing him.
It felt like something he was walking toward - hand in hand, with the sea breathing beside them.