Here’s the next part of the series!! Hope you all enjoy!! xx B
The last few days had been a whirlwind of different relatives popping by to say hello to the newest Styles family member, Harry trying to fend off any paps that might get a little too close for comfort outside of the hospital (they’d found out your room umber and used those high-tech lenses to take far off pictures), and your eldest daughter being a little bit of a brat at all times. You could barely keep up with her mood swings, since now you were having to tend to your newborn, and Harry was at his wit’s end when your little family finally returned to your home on the outskirts of London.
“Love, why don’ yeh go on t'bed, I’ll get her,” he nods to you oldest child, “to sleep.” Nodding, you call your daughter over and press a kiss to her forehead and wish her goodnight, not noticing the way her eyes are trained on the small, sleeping bundle in your arms. Harry, however, frowns quizzically when he sees how standoffish she’s become, but doesn’t say anything about it, brushing it off as an effect of her exhaustion. After a quick bath and a bedtime story, Harry sponges sweet kisses all over her cheeks and stands to leave.
“Daddy?” Her voice comes out timid and a little sad, and Harry turns quickly to look at her. No tears are brimming her eyes, only a slight furrow in her brows telling of her mood.
“Yes, angel?” He watches the little girl toy with her bedsheets, her green eyes rising to meet his.
“Do you and Mummy still love me?” Harry’s taken aback by the question, a frown etching itself onto his own face. He gently settles back on the tiny bed beside her, his large hand going to smooth down her hair.
“O'course, petal, o'course we do. How could we not? You’re our girl, aren’t yeh?” The wheels of his mind are click-click-clicking as he tries to work out exactly what’s put the ludicrous idea into her sweet little mind. “What in t'world would make yeh the kids we wouldn’t still love yeh?”
“Because Baby Sister.” Harry blinks in surprise.
“Baby Sis–oh. Angel, c'mere.” He gathers her into his arms and cuddles her tightly, loving the way she clings to his shirt. “Listen here; yeh mum an’ I will always love yeh, no matter wha’. We love yeh sister, too, but we don’ love yeh any less because o’ her, a'right? You’re still m'girl. Still my Love Bug, yeah? You’re the one who made me a Daddy in th’ first place. Could never not love yeh.” She snuggles into him, green eyes peering up at him with much more intensity that a six-year-old should be able to muster.
“Promise?” The word snaps his heart into two. Harry swallows harshly and nods, holding out his pinky finger.
“Promise, Love Bug. An’ Mummy promises too.” With a few more kisses and another round of tucking her in, Harry exits her room and shuffles down to your bedroom, rubbing at his eyes. The sight of you holding your newborn baby and singing softly under your breath warms his whole body, and he smiles as he pads over to you.
“What took so long?” You whisper, careful not to stir the sleeping child. Harry drops a kiss on your lips, his hand rubbing at your neck.
“She was askin’ if we still loved her because we have a new baby.” A chip breaks off your heart at the thought. His green eyes are focused in on the infant’s face, such a love-stricken look that only compares to when he’d first laid eyes on your first child in the hospital. Harry gently takes the baby, cooing softly as the baby stirs, and closes his eyes contently.
“Love yeh, Flower. No matter wha’, I love yeh. Even if yeh do scream yeh lungs out because dear ol’ Dad takes yeh from Mumma.” He brushes tender fingers over the baby’s brow, swallowing hard. Little eyes flutter open and he smiles down at the child, “Got eyes like spring flowers, y'do.”