Letters From Scarlette {Haylor}

Chapter 1:

"Mommy, Daddy! Good morning! Good morning!"

I wake to the sound of my toddlers' shouts. Harry looks up tiredly, a sleep-drunken smirk growing on his face.

"Scarr- hun, are you going to do this every day of summer?

He mumbles in his husky morning voice, running a hand through his curls. She giggles and shrugs her shoulders, dimples popping out of her cheeks as she scrambles off the bed and skips into the kitchen.

"She gets it from you, ya know,"

I laugh, looking into his bright green eyes. He smiles, pulling me onto his chest.

"She gets her looks from you, Tay,"

He whispers into my ear, placing tiny kisses down my neck. My mouth opens slightly, my lips resting on Harrys bare collarbone. His fingers start to tug at my tanktop straps but I roll off of him, sitting up.

"Save it, Styles. Scarlettes' going over to my moms' tonight,"

I grin with a wink. He chuckles, placing a peck on my lips before turning to pull up his swim shorts. My fingers scan the beach house closet until I decide and put on a strapless baby blue bikini with a matching coverup. I apply a light shade of makeup with my red lipstick before treking into the kitchen to find Harry cooking breakfast with Scarlette. Scarlette has on Harrys tan fedora, pushed over her long blonde curls.

"Mommy, can you help me get my bathingsuit on?"

she asks politely, picking up my manners in the gene pool.

"Of course, sweetheart,"

I reply, placing her on my hip and carrying her into her pink bedroom. Even at the beach house, her bedroom is filled with posters of One Direction, Justin Bieber, myself, and 'Auntie Selena' as she calls her. She's a huge supporter of our friends, as soon as they meet her the first time she concludes they are her favorite. Though she often proclaims One Direction and I will always be 'the very bestest'.

I help her pull on a purple tankini that rises a bit above her stomach but not too much despite her protests. She would like to wear a bikini like me but Harry is very protective of Scarr and growing up. And she's only 2 years old as it is, way too soon to be worrying about boys running around. Which it seems, will be a problem, because Scarlette is already model material.

"Breakfast!!"

Harrys raspy voice echoes, cueing Scarlette to run barefoot through the cold tile floors.

We decide to sit on the dining room patio outside, Scarlette ended up waking us up at sunrise so the morning sun is just climbing above the horizon. She loves the beach, mostly the sand. She could build sandcastles for days without a break. Harry, on the other hand, wants to be in the ocean. And he doesn't want to be alone. He's been talking to me about trying for a boy, he wants a son so bad. Just someone that he can be rough with and throw into the water without being clawed to death. But as of right now, we couldn't be happier with our little girl. Our little princess.