Harry wakes up in the middle of the night to an empty bed. He goes to investigate why that is.
The room was bathed in moonlight when Harry awoke. He remained still, trying to listen to figure out what it might have been that woke him up, but all he could hear was silence. He reached a hand out to check if Louis was likewise awake, but all his hand met was a cool sheet. Harry was alone in their bed.
Confused, he sat up and looked in the direction of the en suite bathroom, but there was no light or movement coming from there. Worry began to mix in with the confusion as Harry slipped out of bed and pulled on his robe against the draft which seemed to constantly seep in through the windows of their old house.
He padded into the hall, turning left, heading in the direction of their daughter's room. As he neared the door--half-open, half-closed--he could hear two voices. He stopped just short of the door to listen, not wanting to interrupt.
"Can you tell me what the dream was about, baby?" Louis' voice whispered.
Tiny sobs came from the other person in the room. Harry couldn't keep himself from peeking inside. Louis sat in the rocking chair by the window, their young daughter in his arms. Flora's little face was buried in Louis' chest as Louis ran a hand gently through her chestnut curls. Harry quickly backed up before he could be seen, even while his heart hurt seeing his little girl in pain.
"Shh, baby, you're okay. You're safe," Louis crooned softly.
It took a moment, but her sobs turned to hiccups.
"That's it, honey. Deep breaths," Louis guided her.
Harry could hear Flora audibly following Louis' direction, and soon her hiccups came to an end.
"Good girl. There you go," Louis praised. "You chased the hiccups away. Now…. Do you think you can tell me what your dream was about?"
Flora pulled in a huge breath, then finally explained, "A huge monster was chasing me through a forest, and I couldn't find you or Daddy anywhere. I ran and I ran and I ran, but I couldn't find anybody. I was so scared, Papa."
Harry risked peeking in again and caught Louis holding Flora tight to his chest. "Daddy and I would never let anything get you," he was saying in her ear. "Not ever."
"Promise?" their five year old asked seriously.
"Promise."
Harry watched as Flora threw her little arms around Louis' neck, squeezing tight. Harry's chest filled with love for the both of them before he shifted out of view once more.
After a moment of silence, Harry heard Louis ask, "So, Floss, you think you could go back to sleep now?"
"Can you tell me a story?" she bargained.
Louis hesitated before pointing out, "It's pretty late, baby."
"Please, Papa?" she wheedled. Harry didn't need to see to know Flora was batting her emerald green eyes right up at Louis.
Louis folded like a house of cards. "Okay."
"Yay!" Brown curls, green eyes, and an ability to get Louis Tomlinson to do whatever her heart desired--those Styles genes were powerful stuff.
"First, though, you get back in bed," Louis commanded gently.
Harry heard Flora's feet land on the floor and race the short distance to her bed. Louis' heavier footsteps followed, and it wasn't long before Louis asked, "Your choice or my choice?"
Flora took a moment to think. Harry and Louis always gave her the option of letting the stories they told her be from an idea of theirs or an idea of hers. In general, she let them pick, but on this night, she answered, "Mine!"
