PETAL | HARRY STYLES

FORTY-NINE.

August.

"Keep them closed, I'm serious!"

"I am!"

Harry leads Fleur down the hall toward the room where the nursery would be. Apparently he finished painting it late last night when Fleur was knocked out. He then waited all morning for her to get up so he could show her the final result.

"Put this on." Harry tells her as he hands a surgical mask to her.

With her eyes still shut, she looks at him in confusion.

"Harry-"

"The fumes!"

"Fine!"

So, she puts the mask on and the sound of a door opening follows. He guides her into the room and holds her in place.

"Now, open."

When Fleur opens her eyes, she's surprised. It's nothing she's ever seen before. At least not in a nursery.

The walls are a very pale yellow, but that's not what really catches her eye. All around each wall, is a pattern of sunflowers and kiwis and watermelons and daisies (because his daughter needed to know her daddy's favorite flower as well). Thrown in are a few hydrangeas in honor of Fleur's mother.

It's all them. It's each of them in one. And it's beautiful.

"Holy shit, Harry." Fleur exhales as she looks around.

"But wait, there's more." He cheekily says before pointing up.

The ceiling had also been painted. Different colors of dark blue and purple with pretty yellow stars.

"Oh my God." She gasps lowly.

"I uh..I painted the sky from the night of my birthday in Italy. The night you told me you loved me."

Her brain hasn't even processed it, yet tears are already welling up.

"What?" Fleur softly squeaks.

"Yeah. I memorized it and when we got back to LA, I sketched it out. Just for the memory." He shrugs.

"You beautiful pearl." She cries out, throwing her arms around his neck to kiss him.

But the mask blocks her, so he tugs it down to kiss her properly. Though, it comes right back up before the "fumes" can even hit her.

"This baby has no idea how cool her parents are going to be." Harry beams with his forehead against hers.

"Or how loved she's going to be."

"Oh yeah, can't forget that."

-

"Do you have your toothbrush?"

"Yup."

"Inhaler?"

"Yes."

"Rings?"

"Yes."

"Passport?"

"Shit."

Harry scrambles toward the dresser and opens it to grab his passport before packing it in his carry on. Fleur is sitting on the bed in nothing but his sweater. legs crossed as she watches him pack.

He's off to Mexico. Then, Scotland to film two videos for his album, back to back. One is yet another song about Fleur (that he won't show her for a while) and the other is one that he holds very close to him.

"You're forgetting one more thing."

Harry's head shoots up from the end of the bed with wide eyes.