Chapter Text
The Tomlinson household is alive with quiet joy, the warmth of family life settled into every corner. Sunlight pours through the kitchen window, illuminating the cheerful chaos of breakfast in progress. Violet sits in her highchair, drumming her little fists on the tray while Louis attempts to coax her into eating scrambled eggs. Her riot of chestnut curls bounces with every shake of her head, the brightness of her blue eyes—identical to her dad’s—lighting up the room.
“C’mon, princess,” Louis says, holding out the fork with a playful smile. “You loved this yesterday.”
“Banana!” she demands, her tiny voice insistent, clutching a piece of toast in her other hand.
From across the room, Harry shakes his head with an affectionate laugh. “She’s already got you wrapped around her finger. You know you’re going to give her that banana.”
Louis grins over his shoulder, brushing his hand through his hair in defeat. “What can I say? She’s got good taste.” He grabs the banana off the counter and begins peeling it, only to pause when Violet giggles and reaches for his face instead of the fruit.
Moments like these were endless in their little home, a cozy three-bedroom house with a yard perfect for Violet to grow up in. After Harry graduated university early, his photography career had quietly flourished. He booked shoots regularly and managed his own website, his unique style earning a steady stream of clients. The extra income had allowed them to leave their flat behind and settle into their dream space, complete with a garden where Violet toddled around with bubbles and sunhats.
They’d hosted her first birthday party in that very yard just a few months ago. It had been small but perfect, with all their family and friends gathered around to celebrate. The photos of Violet with cake smeared across her face and a flower crown in her curls were already framed on the mantel, alongside pictures of her unwrapping stuffed animals and being passed from one loving set of arms to another.
Now, at fifteen months old, Violet had blossomed into the perfect mix of Harry and Louis. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with mischief, her curls often springing free no matter how carefully Louis clipped bows into them. Louis had fully embraced the role of girl dad, learning to braid hair, tie tiny shoes, and host elaborate tea parties where he’d sit cross-legged on the floor wearing a tiara. Harry would watch them with an overwhelmed heart, snapping candid pictures of Louis running through the yard with Violet perched on his shoulders, her delighted laughter filling the air.
On weekends, Violet often stayed with Anne or Jay, who spoiled her to no end. Harry and Louis took those rare opportunities to reconnect with their friends. Jade and Perrie always insisted on planning something fun—whether it was dinner at their place or a nostalgic karaoke night where Harry and Louis inevitably ended up singing a duet. Niall and Zayn doted on Violet like the best uncles imaginable, always bringing her gifts and insisting on weekly updates from Louis about her latest milestones.
That evening, Harry and Louis curl up on the couch after Violet had fallen asleep. Harry rests his head against Louis’ shoulder, his legs tucked underneath him, scrolling through the photos he’d taken that day. The glow of his wedding ring catches the light as he clicks through image after image of their little girl running through the yard in her favorite floral dress.
“She’s so beautiful,” Harry murmurs, his voice soft. “It’s like… every day, she looks more like you. And me. It’s surreal.”
Louis kisses the top of Harry’s head, his hand rubbing slow circles on his back. “She’s us. That’s why she’s so perfect.”
Harry smiles, tears pricking his eyes. Life hadn’t always been like this. There was a time he thought everything was over. He thought losing Louis was the end, that he’d never find joy or peace again. But he’d been wrong. They’d fought their way back to each other, built a life that was messy, chaotic, and utterly beautiful. And now, with Violet as their light, he could say without hesitation that every struggle had been worth it.
Looking up at Louis, Harry kisses his jaw and whispers, “I love you.”
Louis smiles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, too. Always.”
Outside their window, the stars twinkle faintly, but they aren’t needed.
Inside their little house, love glows brighter than anything else in the world.