Harry Styles imagines

Dear Mummy

(edited)

Harry was climbing up the stairs to his daughter's bedroom to check up on her and to kiss her goodnight. She had suspiciously gone to bed earlier than she normally would've done. She had also been acting very strangely the entire day. Harry had noticed that Beau had acted quite still after he had gotten her from school, considering the fact how talkative she usually was. When he had asked her about it, she had shrugged her shoulders, claiming she was absolutely fine but just exhausted. Harry hadn't brought up the topic again because he didn't want to pressure her; if she wanted to talk, she would let him know. But he was clearly sure that something must have made her upset.

He slowly opened the door to his daughter's room and was surprised when he saw that the lights on the ceiling were still on. His eyes searched for the little girl and he found her lying in her bed, her back turned towards him.

"Bub, are you still awake?" He asked quietly. However, he got no answer from her. It was eerily quiet in the room- so quiet that you probably could have heard a pin falling onto the ground. Frowning, he moved closer to her bed and when he was close enough, he discovered that her shoulders were slightly shaking, followed by a heavy sob escaping from her mouth. Beau could not hide her façade forever- not from her dad who always could tell that something was wrong with her- and finally broke down in front of him. Everything she had gone through a few hours ago was crushing onto her like a big wall.

Harry instantly tore her from her lying state and cradled her on his lap, pressing her firmly against his chest while he gave her countless kisses on the forehead. The young girl held onto him like he was her only living source, and many tears were falling from her eyes while crying. Harry had never seen his daughter so upset before.

"It's okay, bub..." He tried to soothe her, running his hand through her long curly hair that she inherited from her daddy. "Wanna tell me why you're crying?" He took her young face between his warm hands and caught every falling tear with his thumbs. Seeing his little girl in like this made him want to cry himself. Harry could never stand seeing people he loved suffering, especially his princess. He would tear down the entire planet if it meant that he could see her gorgeous smile again. By now he noticed the fluffy teddy bear under her left arm, and he could only assume what her sorrow was about. Beau only cuddled against her toy when she was missing a certain person. A person she loved with her whole heart as much as Harry did. Because it was a gift from her. Her mother... Y/N....

They were sitting in this position, father and daughter holding each other, until Beau's crying died down slightly and her breathing became normal again. Her eyes met her father's gentle green ones, and she somewhat lowered her gaze in shame. She hated crying, crying made her weak and vulnerable, but it was a human thing, wasn't it? No one could suppress their feelings forever. Beau just wanted to be Harry's strong little girl, not a weeping little thing.

"I'm sorry, daddy..." She sniffled.

"There is no reason to be sorry, princess. You know it's normal to cry sometimes. Now, what happened? What made you so upset, hmm?"

The thought of the event that had taken place earlier caused new tears appearing in her eyes. She did not want to think about it anymore, but the wound that had been inflicted on her was too fresh for her to ignore. She was just a little girl. How could she deal with pain properly?

"Aww beautiful, just speak to me. I'm here for you, you know that." He kissed her forehead again to encourage her. Beau took a deep breath, but her voice still sounded very shaky.

"T-today in s-school Mrs. Riley suggested preparing a little gift for Mother's Day. She said this time we should send it to our mummy's instead of giving it to them personally. Then, o-one of the mean girls just said how I wanted to send my gift to mummy since there's no mailman for heaven. A-and they made fun of me the entire d-day. Even though our teacher warned them and told them how disrespectful their words are, they still didn't stop. Macy told me that mummy did not love me, that's why she left, and she is probably happy where she is without me." She began to sob again. "Is that true, daddy? Is that why she left us? Is that why I have no mummy anymore?"