Just go already
“Who has a Christmas party on Christmas Eve?” Harry mumbles cheerlessly as he struggles with the black tie around his neck. “It’s utterly pointless.” He continues, huffing loudly, his arms falling to his side.
“Absolutely— fucking ludicrous,” he shakes his head, somewhat amusing you as he paces in frustration.
“I believe you now owe £2 to the swear jar.” You sweetly smile, reminding him of his terrible use of words.
“That jar is going to be full by the end of the week.” He gripes, his stare gawking over at you as you adjust the Navy Blue dress.
“well, stop Ye’ swearing.” You sigh, grabbing a pair of nude heels and sitting on the bed.
“Why have a Christmas party on Christmas Eve?”
“Because you can’t have a Christmas party after Christmas, Harry.” You enlighten him, sliding your foot into the nude heel, your eyes swiftly glancing over at the time that reads: ‘seven-fifty-two.’ You’re both already late. “Harry, hurry up, we are late.” You utter, hating the fact that the two of you have managed to run overtime despite your constant persistence to get him ready by seven-thirty.
“The party will still be there when we get there.” He says in a low voice, grabbing his shirt jacket and sliding it up his arms. “There’s my sweetheart.” He chimes, your eyes looking over to see your little girl wobbling in, her little legs still like a baby deer. At just under nine months old, she’s begun to find her legs and wobble her way around. “I’m glad her baby sitter is watching her.” Harry comments as your little girl stumbles over her legs and falls on her rear. “Awah, baby.” He chuckles, scooping her up in his arms, bouncing her on his hip.
“The baby sitter is watching her, thank you.” Nialls voice echoes and you see him leaning on the doorframe of the door. “She can’t go too far.” He adds,
“Don’t call me when she’s hiding and you’ve lost her in the house.” Harry advises his friend, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.
“Learnt from experience didn’t ya?” You wink, referencing the other night where he took his eyes off her and couldn’t find her for a good ten minutes— to him ten minutes felt like an hour. Of course he managed to find her curled up in the basket of clean towels in the laundry room.
“I believe we are late.” He clears his throat, deciding not to respond to your comment. “I need you to watch your uncle Niall.” Harry talks in soft voice to his little girl, blissfully bouncing her, “no beer until you’re fast asleep.” He continues, placing a kiss to his little girl’s forehead,
“Yes, your eight month old is baby sitting me.” Niall nods with a smile,
“Don’t undermine her ability to get into things. She will wobble away from you.” Harry presses, seeming slightly anxious to leave his little girl, as he always is. He even gives his own mother a set of rules on how to watch a child, forgetting she has already successfully raised two of her own. “Will you please go?” Niall groans, looking towards you for help.
“Yes! We are late.” You stand to your feet, “come here, darling.” You coo, but Harry turns away from you,
“No, it’s daddy’s time to cuddle,” he shakes his head, happily holding his daughter.
“Fine.” You roll your eyes, stepping closer and placing a kiss to her rosy red cheek, “tell your Daddy to stop fussing.” You whisper, watching as her eyes continue to gleam the same shade of her fathers.
“Tell mummy not to RSVP to Christmas Eve events.” He smiles gently down at his daughter, enjoying having her full attention on him.
“C'mon Niall, at some point he will follow me downstairs.” You gesture, stepping outside the bedroom and walking down stairs. “You have our numbers, but your best bet is to call Gemma, she’s the closest, and I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.” You wink, gently nudging him as you grab the paper from the table, a list of small instructions left for him.
“I’m going to disregard that comment.” He murmurs, taking the list from your hand.
“You know what to do. She will fall asleep soon so you can do whatever, just check on her every so often, she tangles herself in her blankets and sometimes she kicks them off.”
“Y/N, please. I can handle it.” He assures you with that wide smile of his. Of course he can handle it, he’s an adult and has watched your daughter before. Overly anxious parents is never a bad thing though, right?
“Okay, I guess I better part ways with her.” Harry sighs as he walks down the stairs, your little girl securely in his arms.
“About damn time.” Niall nods,
“Swear jar.” You and Harry say in unison, gesturing towards the jar of coins on the kitchen table.
“Damnit!” Niall cusses under his breath,
“That’s £2.” Harry chimes, amused that he’s not the only one contributing to the donations of the swear jar.
“Yeah, yeah.” Niall matters, pulling out his wallet,
“Now, please leave, you’re going to miss the party.”
“That’s the point.” Harry grins, handing your little girl over to Niall.
You walk hand in hand into the venue the Christmas party is being held at, quite a lovely reception area, red and gold decorations perfectly decorated around the area, everything matching perfectly, nothing out of place. “Let’s say hello and goodbye.” Harry whispers as your eyes meet all the other guests mingling and sipping wine.
“Be kind.” You warn, hoping he can put on a smile and pretend that he wants to be spending a few hours surrounded by these people. Your eyes continue to take in the scenery; two large ravishingly decorated Christmas trees in the corner with twinkling lights wrapped around it stand tall. “Y/N!” A woman chimes, pulling you in for conversation as Harry let’s go of your hands and walks in the opposite direction. He’s not one to enjoy the socialising aspect of these things unless it’s with people he’s really close to. “Hello.” You politely greet,
“I’ve missed you, how’s the baby?” She asks with a smile,
“She’s good, she’s starting to walk.”
“Ah, so sweet, I remember those days. We need to get together for coffee.”
“Yes we do. I’m going to go find my husband who’s disappeared, I’ll talk to you later.” You dismiss the conversation, walking towards the bar to find your husband.
“Would a handsome man like you buy a girl like me a drink?” You grin, leaning on the bar as he takes a sip of his own drink.
“I don’t know, my wife would get pretty mad.” Harry responds,
“Mhm, but she wouldn’t have to know.” You engage in playful teasing, watching as he rolls his eyes, handing you his drink. You take the glass into your hand, bringing the alcohol to your lips.
“Damnit, I hate you.” You utter, handing the whiskey back to him, he chuckles adorably, his devious eyes radiating.
“You fall for it every time.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” You mutter, taking his hand and dragging him to socialise.
After a few minutes of scanning the room you find Harry outside in the lobby area, “the party is inside.” You remind him, taking his attention away from his phone, “and I’m sure our daughter is fine.” You assure him, knowing he’s probably blowing up nialls phone.
“I know.” He smiles, “how about we leave?” He proposes,
“Harry, it’s only eleven,”
“We should be at home with our daughter.”
“She is sleeping, Harry. Look, I don’t get to go out much, I don’t get to wear a lovely dress and heels very often, hell, I barely get to have clean hair because it always has baby food or spit-up in it, so give me a night out, please.” You firmly instruct, not wanting to go home to a quiet house just to watch another Christmas movie or to fall asleep the minute you hit the bed. Being a Mum is great, but on the rare Occassion you get the chance to leave the house and feel pretty, you want to grasp it and enjoy every moment of it. Sure, it’s Christmas Eve and you should both be at home, but your daughter is asleep and she won’t know the difference.
“You wanna get a hotel room?” He quietly propositions, a sparkle in his eyes.
“The last time you said that we ended up with our daughter.”
“A wonderful addition.”
“Yes, but we are not doing anything tonight.”
“Hm, want to go drive around and look at Christmas lights?”
“I’m in a badass dress, I look fucking hot and you want to gaze at Christmas lights and drive?” You place your hands on your hips, a little irritated by his suggestion. What does he need to realise that his wife wants a nice night out.
“No, I want to—” he begins but stops himself, “I’m not allowed to say my thoughts out loud. So, what do you want to do?” He grins, being cheeky and captivating you with his mischievous grin.
“Don’t look at me like that.” You warn, his eyes narrowing down on you,
“Like what?” He smirks,
“That look, you know that look makes me want to take those clothes off.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Although you need to behave yourself, that’s no way to talk.”
“Get the room.” You breathe, taking a step away from him as he nods obediently.