Adopted by Harry Styles

twenty-seven

{i went an rewrote a lot of the previous chapter, so re-read before reading this}
{oh, and listen to afire love by ed sheeran. (i know it's about his grandfather, but i listened to it while writing)}

Autumn Caroline Styles died on December 30, 2015 at 10:32 a.m.

That, was trending on Twitter, along with about a million and tweets from the fans saying how sorry they am for the loss.

I had typed up a twit longer yesterday as I laid in bed, still crying over the loss of my daughter. I bet they think I'm a crybaby, that I need to stop crying.

I'm looking at the long passage I had written and still had tears down my cheeks. They definitely think I'm a child.

"No, we don't," Niall spoke from the door way of my bedroom.

I looked up at him and he stood there, a duffle bag in his hands. Danielle had to fly to California yesterday. Something happened in her family. She'll be back tomorrow before Autumn's funeral.

"Her birthday is today, Niall," I told him blankly as tears cascaded down my pale cheeks, "She would be 4 today on January 1."

"Harry," he sighed as I got choked up and began sobbing.

"She didn't even live, Niall," I spoke as I got up and began pacing.

I was now angry and in pain. The pain was both physical and mental. Physical because I hadn't taken my heart medicine since before Autumn's passing. Emotional because I'm telling myself I can't handle this.

I made myself so mad I punched my wall, which made a hole. I punched a picture from and almost a lamp before Niall came and stopped me.

I struggled against his grip. "Niall, let me go."

"Fine, but you're coming with me."

"Niall, I'm not leaving this house," I huffed as he let me go.

"We aren't leaving the house, Harry. Just follow me," he spoke as I followed him out of the room.

We ended up in the basement in my workout room, next to the room that held mine and Autumn's Disney movie collection. And of course our special fridge of ice cream.

"Niall, please let me go back upstairs," I said sadly, wanting to go back to bed to cry and mourn alone.

"I understand you're angry. You were angry from the start when she first got diagnosed with the cancer. Did you tell anyone? No. But I knew. I knew you were pissed at Louis for telling you she had four months. Did you tell anyone? No, you didn't. And I know you're extra pissed that she didn't even live the four months. But have you told anyone? No. So, since you're angry you are going to punch this punching bag until you fall to the ground."

"Niall, I really-"

"Do it or I'm calling Danielle," he threatened.

I sighed, but began working out.

"Why are you pissed?" He asked as he walked around the room.

"Because she didn't live," I spoke, "Niall, this isn't working."

"Shut up. Why are you pissed? Name another reason."

"She got diagnosed with cancer."

"And why are you pissed?"

"Because I couldn't fucking help her," I spoke angrily as I punched the bag repeatedly. It eventually fell to the ground.

"Stop," Niall spoke as I want down to reattach it to the hook hanging from the ceiling.