How Fast the Night Changes

I'm Growing Up Beside You

Louis glances over his shoulder at Niall and then back to Liam and Zayn, giving a tiny nod. "O'tay," he whispers.

And with the level of trust only a toddler can give, Louis grabs ahold of Niall's hand in one of his own, and then reaches up to grasp ahold of two of Liam's fingers with his other, the two little boys staring up at the man expectantly.

And both of them know, in that exact moment, that this is more than a temporary placement. Instantaneously, those two babies have found their way into their hearts, and there's no way on earth that they'll ever be able to let them go.

*

Zayn wakes up to a muffled thud from downstairs, sitting up in bed with a frown. He glances to his right and sees Liam fast asleep beside him, and he realises that the sound must have been one or both of their foster sons'.

The twins have been with them for just short of two weeks now, their placement with the men no longer an emergency one.

He pulls back his side of the covers, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and standing with bare feet, quietly padding down the hall toward the twins room.

Cracking the door open and peering inside at the two small beds on either side of the room, squinting through the darkness and seeing Niall asleep in Louis' bed with the stuffed bear toy they'd bought him the previous day week. There's no sign of Louis though, so he takes one last look at Niall before quietly retreating and heading down the stairs instead.

The lights are on in the kitchen, and he has to wait a few seconds for his eyes to adjust before he sees what had made the thud that had woken him - the milk carton on its side on the floor, milk spilled into a small pool around it. Louis is in his pyjamas on the counter beside the fridge, a chair pushed up against the cupboards.

He looks terrified; the three year olds eyes are wide, his chubby cheeks flushed pink.

"I sorry!" He says quickly, voice wobbling.

Zayn is quick to shake his head, hurrying across to the boy and holding out his arms. He hooks his hands beneath Louis' arms and pulls him onto his hip, smiling when the boy loops his arms around his neck and rests his cheek on his shoulder.

"It's okay, baby boy. Were you tryna get yourself a drink?" He asks softly.

Louis sniffles, nodding. "Uh-huh, but - but it falled," he whispers, sucking in a hitching breath.

Zayn shushes him. "It's okay, I can clean it up. You didn't mean it. Why didn't you come wake me or Daddy up, huh?"

As soon as he and Liam had decided that they were going to permanently foster and eventually adopt the twins, they'd asked them to call them Dad and Papa just to avoid any confusion, and the boys had picked up on the names right away - Louis had, at least; Niall is yet to say a word to them, only ever whispering to Louis.

"You was sleepin'," Louis says softly, bottom lip trembling still. "An' I wanted a milk."

"You wanted milk?" Zayn corrects gently, and Louis nods slowly against his shoulder.

Smiling, Zayn sets the small boy down on the island and quickly grabs a cloth to clean up the milk on the ground before he fishes a new milk carton out of the fridge and rinses out a plastic beaker. He fills it with milk and then takes it over to the three year old.