PETAL | HARRY STYLES

FIFTY-EIGHT.

Harry meant it when he told Fleur she was his muse.

It was 4am when he felt that jolt of creative electricity. Something he didn't expect to feel a long time from now. But her letter had him inspired and he knew he couldn't just stop this flow.

So there he was, sitting at his desk as he used the light from his phone to illuminate the paper in front of him. Rosie slept peacefully in the bed where Fleur once slept. And Harry wrote.

He wrote and he wrote until his wrist ached and his head throbbed for rest.

And finally, it was done.

He had written a song.

Next thing he knows, he's calling Jeff as he paces the room. It's still early back in LA so he's sure to answer.

"Hey man, how's it going?" A very cautious Jeff answers on the other line.

"I need you to get everyone back here." Harry responds, still pacing the floor.

"To London?"

"Yes."

"May I ask what for?"

"Studio."

"Studio? But the album is done."

"I have one more song. It has to be on the album. Please, Jeff. I just...it needs to be on the album." Harry exhales, biting his lip.

Silence on the other end. Finally, a sigh.

"Okay, Harry. We'll be there by later tonight."

The line clicks and Harry breathes out in relief, clutching the phone to his chest. He smiles to himself, feeling accomplished in this moment.

Rosie begins to stir, kicking her feet around as she gurgles into the quiet atmosphere. Harry is quick to rush to his daughter's side, gently scooping her up and lifting her against his chest. He keeps her close, kissing the top of her head.

"I did it." He softly says, aware she won't respond. "Daddy wrote a song. Can you believe it? I never thought I could do it again. But as always, your mum is constantly inspiring me. Even when she's not here."

That last sentence comes out quieter. Almost as if he was afraid to even say it. But it's the cold hard truth.

She's not here.

Fleur is not here.

Harry sits with this thought for a moment, letting it digest. He shakes it off just as quick, not wanting to lose his composure while holding his precious angel.

Rosie begins to cry, gripping Harry's arm for dear life as she lets out her broken sobs. Harry bounces her up and down, attempting to shush her before she wakes Gemma and Anne

His eyes dance around the room, looking for something to comfort her with. Usually he's able to do it himself with singing or just holding her, but some nights she's unable to stop.

Deep down, Harry thinks it has to do with the fact that Fleur's not around. Maybe Rosie senses that she's gone and he's hurting. And maybe now Rosie is hurting as well. He likes to think she understands.

And if that's the case, she's an empathetic. Just like her mother.

In a case like this, Harry usually wraps Rosie up in a blanket that smells like Fleur. But Rosie has already spit up on every single one he's used and they're all in the wash.