The beginning of the end. —a .x
Seven years later
"Mommy! Help me zip my dress!" Olivia squeaked, her tiny fingers fiddling with the small zipper on the back of her banana colored dress, which resembled a lamp shade near the bottom. Emma insisted she wear it, however, and four-year-old Olivia was happy wearing anything that wasn't her school uniform.
"One second, Liv. Let me adjust my dress too, baby." Mila spoke, adjusting her bra to align with her rose colored silk dress. She wasn't aware of this before, but the slight dip on the sides displayed her single tattoo perfectly. Her eyebrows knit together in worry, attempting to cover the seven year old ink as well as should could, but failing miserably.
Harry was scribbled neatly along her ribs, written in his very handwriting. She'd gotten it the very day he proposed to her. That time seemed so long ago already.
Mila bent down to Olivia's level, carefully zipping up her dress, careful not to catch the little girls long, brown curls in it.
"You're all zipped up, princess. Can you go find Daddy?"
"Yes!" Olivia chirped, skipping from the room as Mila slowly followed behind, her Harry tattoo in clear view when her arms were raised. Hopefully Emma wouldn't be picky about her showing off the bit of ink.
Mila followed her daughter into the foyer, where several people dressed nicely from head-to-toe scurried around, in search of either the bride or groom.
Olivia bobbed in and out of the small crowds, in a desperate search for her best friend—Her father.
Mila watched as the little girl collided with his tall, slender legs, wrapping her arms around them tightly. He stumbled slightly upon impact, eyebrows widening at the little girl who clung to his legs.
"Shit," Mila exclaimed, her heartbeat accelarating as she quickly approached the two of them. "I'm sorry, she must've thought you were her Dad—" she stammered, prying Olivia from his legs.
"S'okay," Harry cooed, his lips pulled into a smirk, displaying those familiar dimples as he crouched down, becoming eye level with Olivia. "Hello, princess. What's your name?"
"Olivia!" She chirped, brushing the curls from her eyes.
It had been six years since Mila had any contact with Harry Edward Styles. And when she says contact, that includes social media as well. In all honesty, she had absolutely no clue what was going on currently in his life.
For starters, his hair was significantly shorter, cut so short that the curls were nothing but small ringlets, along with occasional waves. He had it spiked upwards slightly near the front, held into place by a bit of gel. Without that mess of hair, you could actually see his face in its entirety. The way his chocolate waves curled in front of his little ears, which stuck out a bit from his head, like they always had. His jade eyes remained unchanged, sparkling in the light as he took in the little piece of the girl he once loved that stood before him.
"That's a beautiful name." He breathed.
"I want to name my daughter Olivia too."
Well, technically, he wanted to name his daughter Olivia before Mila ever wanted to...
"Do you not have a daughter yet?" Olivia pried.
YOU ARE READING
By definition, Harry Styles is simply perfect. He has always heavily respected women and is extremely against having one night stands. That is, until he finds himself in bed one night with a girl he barely knows. Will he be able to commit himself to...