Moments [H. Styles]

After You

Bea's P.O.V

I miss you. God, do I miss you.

Days it had been and I still can't bring myself to step into our home. I can't bring myself to look at our bed, the kitchen we shared so many memories, the dining table where all of our loved ones gathered countless times, our bed, the last pile of clothes you left by the door that I nagged at you for leaving. I can't even bring myself to consider going in there. It hurts so bad to the point I almost feel numb. It feels like I died right along side you, Harry. We miss you more than words can describe. Celeste hasn't stopped crying and when she yells out for her daddy my heart breaks a little more.

We share a queen sized hotel bed and she never lets me leave her grasp while we sleep. She's scared to lose me, too, I guess. She's only six. It devastates me that our beautiful girl has felt such a pain so early in life.

Hailey and Theo have visited, we mostly just sit quietly in our temporary home and all that are heard are soft sobs. This is the most pain I have ever in my life felt. My doctor told me to take it easy and that the stress could be life threatening for our baby.

Our baby that you will never get the chance to meet seems to constantly be doing flips and kicking like crazy. I think they can sense how bad things are, maybe they miss you too. Your voice and how you'd sing to my belly every chance you got. She loved it.

It's a girl, by the way. Two girls and one boy will just have to suffice, huh?

I know we decided to wait until I gave birth to find out the gender but I have too much on my mind to have that to worry about too.

"Mommy, do you think daddy would like my dress?" Celeste's voice is barely audible and it's hoarse from her many hours of crying. She held the ends of the fabric with the tips of her fingers, swaying it back and forth. It's her favorite dress and you've seen it countless times, the pink one with the glittery butterflies and all of the "fluff" underneath. She knows you loved it but I suppose she wanted to make sure it was the right choice for your funeral.

"Yes baby, daddy loved butterflies and pink. He especially loved glitter and ruffles." I assure her with the best smile I can manage. It physically pains me to smile and I can practically feel my heart stop beating. She looks at me with those sweet, sad eyes and they remind me so much of yours. What were once hazel have changed to cater yours much more, mostly a soft murky green. I hadn't even noticed until I searched her face for the traces of you when we sat in the hospital lobby.

"He would say you look beautiful, mommy. Like a princess." I can't help but cry at her words. I nearly collapse under myself and I give up hope to ever feel whole again in that moment.

He would.

You would... but never will again.

Never again would I see that wicked, dimpled smile.

Never another snarky remark that would always somehow end in a tickle fight.

Never again hear your sweet voice hum while you're concentrated.

Never see how much your eyes would light up when I would paint your nails. And then Celeste's to match, of course.

To never sing, or more-so scream, along to the radio while driving.

Never be able to hold you in my arms.

If I had known the last time would be the last I would've held you a little tighter, a little longer. I would've let myself breathe in your signature scent of Tobacco Vanille. I'd do so many things differently. I wouldn't have let you out of my sight had I known your intentions.