Yellow.

seven.

Myra will always love Harry unconditionally.

After all, he will always be her first love and nothing can change that fact. Everyone loves the man that is always there for them and has loved them long before they could even speak. Myra and Harry are not the typical father-daughter duo. Everything about them will always be unique. Myra is a little girl that is already beginning to show how much of a tomboy she is, but sometimes inclines on the girly side. Harry is an autistic father, nothing more to say.

Myra has already started noticing how different her father is and has started asking questions about the little traits depicted by him. Although the meaning of Autism is something that cannot stick in her young mind that quick, everyone always ensure to explain little reasons for either; a seizure, breakdown, emotional meltdown and other important aspects of her father.

Nothing reduces her love for him, not even when he is extremely sensitive and does not want to be touched, nothing reduces the love. Sometimes she wants to ask if he can become like Uncle Niall or Uncle Zayn but she just never bothers because as she learns everyday, she learns that everyone is cut out with their own sleeves and will always be different. Myra sees only old pictures of her mum and understands that she is somewhere else, but her juvenile mind does not understand why she is not presently with them; just like her friends and their mums. At four, she is a bit too bright and alert.

"Okay Papa, You are Princess Harry!" Myra adjusts her black tutu around her waist and folds up the sleeve of her grey T shirt. She looks up to the extremely confused man and assists in fixing his slanted tiara on his roughly braided hair.

"Uh...yeah! Yeah!" Harry tries to cheer and pouts in order for her to apply the lip balm onto his rosy lips.

"Princess Harry, say it Daddy!" She giggles, exactly knowing that he is avoiding use of words.

"Okay, Princess...Princess H-H-Harry!" He responds with a cackle and pushes a bit of loose hair from the braid back with a bright smile.

"Good and I am Myra the greatest, I will save you from the dragon with powers!" Myra raises her fist in the air with a smile identical to Harry and he quickly nods in agreement.

"Uh...uh no tea...no tea? H-Harry no...Princess H-Harry needs tea because classy," he speaks with a teasing smile and she wrinkles her nose at him.

"Nana Anne will give us tea, after I save the world and Daddy too! Ask for help Papa!" Myra adjusts her messy hair in a bun and drags her eyebrows together for a serious expression. Harry slowly rubs his palms together and parts his lips, wondering what in the world his daughter is up to.

"H-Harry wants Help!" He tries to sound dramatic but it is weak.

"No Daddy, you just say Help! We are acting!" She squeals and presses a kiss to his cheeks.

"Okay...," Harry gently taps his palm against his forehead with a small frown. "Help! Help!" He groans out and raises a hand, which causes Niall to assume Harry wants him to come and join them.

"I am here to save the day!" Myra calls out and picks up her plastic sword.

Harry pauses and deepens his frown at the sight of the sword. It is obviously fake but he remembers clearly warning everyone to avoid buying toys with violent messages for Myra, especially since the day she would rather fangirl for a toy gun than the glittery barbie up the shelf. He leans closer and points at the sword with a small groan.

"No...No Myra, H-Harry does not like...like that for Myra...r-remember? No....none of that please," he gently scolds reaching to collect the sword and she gently hands it over to him, pouting a bit but he is emotionally blinded to notice.