Lucky Ones || l.s

chapter 19

I guess you could say that I've been lucky
Well, I guess you could say that it's all because of you

“Daddy, please can I have this one?” Layla asked politely, holding out the most garish pink glittery lunch bag Harry had ever seen. It was perfect. He grinned and nodded to his little girl, taking it in his hands and putting it into the cart along with the other school things she’d chosen. Louis smiled softly over at the pair, still a bit overwhelmed he was lucky enough to have such a wonderful husband and daughter, even if the years were whizzing by far too quickly for his liking. He stepped over to Harry, placing his hand over his on the handle of the cart and squeezed gently as Layla skipped ahead of them, heading in the direction of the pencil cases.

“She’s a real girly girl, isn’t she?” Louis mused, looking down at the plethora of pink items in the  full cart, from the lunch bag to her rucksack, and even the new coat she’d chosen especially for school. Both Louis and Harry were determined that she not grow up to be spoilt despite the wealth, and they’d done pretty well to date but if you couldn’t spoil your daughter when she was getting ready to start school, when could you?

They continued wandering around the shop, Layla picking out pretty much whatever she wanted, her dads indulging her, Louis only putting his foot down when she tried to add a pink scooter to it - “so I can scoot to school, Papa!”, Louis laughing as he told her it was a little bit too far to scoot everyday, that they’d be driving her in. She’d pouted for a moment, looking so much like Harry it was quite spooky, but soon snapped out of it, helping her dads to put the items at the till, Louis helping her with his credit card pin as they’d been teaching her numbers, trying to give her a head start before she started school.

After the excitement of the day, Layla had gone to bed quite easily, only asking Harry for two stories as opposed to her usual three, and she’d fallen asleep just before the end of ‘Giraffes Can’t Dance’, a personal favourite of both Layla and Harry. He’d tucked her under her lilac duvet and kissed her forehead softly, padding quietly down the stairs to where his husband was sat on the sofa, his Mac on his lap, answering a few emails.

Since they’d welcomed Layla to their family over four years ago now, Louis had chosen to do as much work at home as he could. He had told Harry he wanted to be there to see his daughter grow up, that they were both lucky enough to be in a position to be at home with her and they’d both enjoyed every second of their little family. Harry had gone back to work part-time at the bakery he and Louis had bought a couple of years ago, The Rolling Scones , and the opening of that was one of the proudest moments of his life, only falling behind marrying Louis and the birth of his daughter.

He curled up on the end of the sofa, Louis putting his computer down as Harry laid his feet in Louis’ lap, smiling when Louis started tracing around the bones of his ankle with a fingertip. They didn't talk for a while, but this was honestly one of Harry’s favourite things about them as a couple, their ability to just sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company. His eyes flickered around the room, taking in the multitude of photographs that documented their lives together, everything from their early days in Thailand and New York, their wedding, Emma’s pregnancy and finally, Layla. She dominated most of the frames, and a family photoshoot they’d had done when she turned 2 was proudly mounted on one wall, one of Harry’s favourite things in their house.

“I’m gonna miss her so much, Lou,” he said softly, ripping his eyes away from the photos and locking gazes with his husband. Louis frowned slightly, pushing Harry’s feet off his lap, spinning around and crossing his legs so they were facing each other. Harry reached forwards and took Louis’ hands in his, rubbing his thumbs along the veins snaking over his hands. “When she starts school, I mean. I’m so used to having her around, playing with her, teaching her how to read, it’s going to be lonely without her.”