If I could fly (BOOK 2)

Distractions

Harry was supposed to be packing.

Instead, he was sprawled across the hotel bed, flat on his back, hair flying in every direction like gravity had personally given up on him. One arm was flung over his eyes in dramatic defeat.

"Five more minutes," he mumbled to the ceiling.

Darcy did not agree one bit.

She crawled across the mattress with determined baby confidence, dressed in a tiny white feeding pajama set dotted with soft little details. Her knees bumped his side before she plopped straight onto his stomach like she owned the place.

Harry groaned. "Oh. Hello. Didn't see you there, boss."

Darcy grabbed his face with both hands immediately, squishing his cheeks together with impressive strength.

"Oi-" he laughed, words muffled. "That's my face."

She babbled happily, nose nearly touching his.

Harry's expression melted. He reached up, scooping her into his arms and covering her cheeks in exaggerated kisses.

"You attack me and I still adore you," he told her seriously.

Darcy squealed.

He carefully stood her up on the mattress, hands firm at her sides while she wobbled proudly, legs bouncing like balance was optional.

"There she is," he said softly. "Strong girl."

She giggled and immediately leaned forward like she planned to launch herself.

Harry caught her easily and started to sway, bouncing gently back and forth. At first he just hummed-nothing specific, just sound. Rhythm. Something loose and playful.

Then, without really thinking about it, he sang softly:

"Sweet creature..."

Darcy went still for half a second.

Then she smiled. Big. Bright. Like he'd just unlocked something.

Harry blinked.

"...oh," he said quietly.

He hummed the note again, testing it, then sang the line once more-gentler this time, like it belonged to just them.

Darcy clapped.

Harry laughed under his breath, heart giving a strange little tug. He shifted her to his hip and reached one-handed for the notebook on the bedside table, balancing her easily like he'd done it a thousand times.

"Hang on," he murmured, flipping it open. "Just-just in case."

He scribbled the words quickly, messy, almost embarrassed by how fast it felt important.

Sweet creature.

He underlined it once.

Darcy leaned forward and smacked the page with her palm like she was signing off on it.

"Yeah," he smiled. "I thought so too."

Behind them, the door opened.

"The driver's here," Y/N said, stopping short when she took in the scene-Harry standing there barefoot, hair wild, notebook in one hand, Darcy balanced against his chest like she was part of the process.

She smiled instantly.

"You were supposed to be packing."

"I am," Harry said confidently. "Creatively."

Darcy babbled in agreement.

Y/N walked closer, amused. "You wrote a song before putting on shoes?"

Harry shrugged. "Priorities."

He hummed the line again absentmindedly as Y/N scooped Darcy into her arms, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"Vegas," Harry said softly, closing the notebook and setting it aside. "Feels like it might be loud."

Darcy kicked happily.

Harry smiled at them both, grabbing his jacket at last, the words already settling somewhere deeper than he expected.

"Alright," he said. "Let's go."

And as they headed for the door, the melody followed him-quiet, steady, already becoming something real.