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musicforastylesrestaurant · 1 year

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Saccharine Expressions.

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authors note - enjoy 8k words of Harry grieving his wife.

trigger warnings - mentions of car crashes, hospitals, mentions of miscarriage and a shit load of angst. if you notice anymore triggers please let me know asap!

word count - 8k

in which, your husband postpones his american leg of tour because you get involved in a road traffic accident, resulting in you ending up in a medically induced coma, your husband and four year old comes to visit you everyday and they always have something new to tell you. this is everything that Harry experiences whilst you asleep, speaking to you whilst holding your hand, getting forced to eat because he doesn’t want to move and reassuring your son that mummy’s going to be fine.

12th August, 2022. — 14:47pm.

You had been looking forward to this moment all day. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow as you sat behind the wheel, cruising along the familiar roads on your way to pick up your four year old son, Alfie from school. The car hummed softly, the radio playing a cheerful tune in the background. The anticipation of reuniting with your little one filled the air, your heart light with the prospect of his laughter and stories from his day.

As you turned onto the street leading to the school, you imagined his face lighting up when he spotted your car. He would come running, his backpack bouncing against his small frame, his smile infectious. You couldn't wait to envelop him in a tight hug, his energy and innocence providing a welcome escape from the adult world.

The plan was to head to your husband's music studio, where he was getting everything ready for his American Leg of tour. It had been a while since the three of you had spent quality time together there, surrounded by the melodies that had woven into the fabric of your life. You had ordered takeout from his favourite restaurant, a little treat to celebrate a simple yet special evening.

The studio was your sanctuary, a place where your husband's creativity flowed freely. The walls were adorned with framed memories and records, a testament to his journey as a musician. Walking in, you'd inhale the familiar scent of music equipment and the subtle mix of coffee and old books. You'd settle into the cosy corner, watching as your son explored the room with wide-eyed wonder.

You'd listen to your husband's stories, sharing in his triumphs and frustrations. The music playing softly in the background would create a serene backdrop to your conversations, each note a reminder of the bond you shared. You'd laugh, you'd dance, and you'd cherish the time spent as a family.

But as the sun began its descent and the car continued down the road, fate had other plans.

Out of nowhere, a truck materialised in your path, its imposing presence casting a shadow over your joy-filled thoughts. Panic surged through your veins, your heart racing as you attempted to react, but time seemed to slow.

The impact was sudden and brutal, metal colliding with metal in a deafening symphony of destruction. Your world spun, and for a fraction of a second, everything went black.

Harry sat in the dimly lit studio, his fingers dancing across the keyboard of his laptop as he worked on everything that would be needed for the show in upcoming days. The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound accompanying his thoughts.

But then, a sudden interruption shattered his focus – his phone began to ring insistently, its vibrations causing it to skitter across the table.

Frowning, Harry picked up the phone and saw the school's name on the caller ID. He furrowed his brows, a sense of unease fluttering in his chest. He swiped to answer the call and held the phone to his ear.

" ‘ello?" he said, his voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Hi, Is this Mr. Styles?" a voice on the other end inquired.

"Yeah, this is ‘im," he replied, his brows knitting tighter.

"I'm calling from LakeRidge school," the receptionist explained. "It seems there was a mix-up, and no one came to pick up Alfie today."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Wait, what? No one picked him up?"

"That's correct. We were trying to reach your wife earlier, but it seems no one was answering," the receptionist explained, her voice apologetic.

Harry's mind raced as he glanced at the time on his watch. You and Harry took it in turns to pick up Alfie from school. You did Mondays, Wednesday and Harry did Tuesdays and Thursdays. You both picked him up on Fridays. He ran a hand through his hair, his worry deepening.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I'll be right there t’pick him up."

"Of course, Mr. Styles. We'll make sure he's safe until you arrive," the receptionist assured him.

"Thank you," Harry replied, his tone earnest. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

12th August, 2022. — 15:12pm.

The tires of Harry's car screeched as he quickly manoeuvred into a parking spot near the school. He barely had time to turn off the engine before he was out of the car, his long strides carrying him toward the school building. Panic surged through him with every step, a mix of worry and guilt propelling him forward.

As he burst through the doors of the school reception, his eyes frantically scanned the room for a familiar face. And there he was – his son, Alfie, standing near the reception desk, his face a mixture of relief and excitement as he spotted his father.

"Daddy!" Alfie's voice rang out, and he sprinted toward Harry with open arms.

Harry's heart swelled with a rush of emotions. He crouched down, his arms outstretched, and Alfie practically leaped into his embrace. Harry held his son tightly, a mixture of relief and remorse flooding his senses.

"I'm so sorry, buddy," Harry murmured, his voice filled with regret. "Me and Mummy should have been here t’pick y’up on time."

Alfie squeezed Harry even tighter, his small arms wrapping around his father's neck. "It's okay, Daddy. I knew you'd come."

Harry pulled back slightly, looking into his son's eyes. "Still, I should have been here f’you. I promise this won't happen again."

Alfie's face lit up with a bright smile, his forgiveness and trust shining through. "I love you, Daddy."

Harry's heart ached with love as he pressed a kiss to Alfie's forehead. "I love you too, more than anything."

After a moment of holding his son close, Harry straightened up and swung Alfie onto his hip. He gathered his son's backpack with his free hand and draped it over his shoulder.

"Ready t’go, bud?" Harry asked, his voice gentle.

Alfie nodded enthusiastically, his arms wrapped around Harry's neck. "Yeah!"

With Alfie securely perched on his hip, Harry made his way back to the car. He settled Alfie into his car seat, making sure he was buckled in safely. As he closed the car door, he leaned in to meet Alfie's gaze.

"M’really sorry about today, Alf," Harry said sincerely. "From now on, Me and Mummy will make sure were here on time t’pick y’up, n’matter what."

Alfie's smile returned, his eyes filled with trust. "I know you will, Daddy."

Harry smiled back, his heart full as he ruffled Alfie's hair affectionately. With one final glance, he closed the car door and walked around to the driver's seat.

Just as Harry's hand touched the ignition to start the car, his phone lit up with an unknown number. A sense of unease washed over him, but he quickly connected the call to the car's Bluetooth system.

" ‘Ello?" Harry said, his voice projected through the car's speakers.

"Is this Mr. Styles speaking?" a calm voice inquired.

Harry's brows furrowed as he gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. "Yes, this is ‘im."

"Mr. Styles, I'm Dr. Parker from Willow Creek Hospital," the voice introduced itself. "I'm calling because you are listed as the emergency contact for (Y/N) Styles."

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the mention of his wife’s name, his thoughts racing as he tightened his grip on the phone.

"(Y/N)?" he repeated, his voice shaky.

"I'm afraid there's been an incident," Dr. Parker explained gently. "It would be best if we discussed this in person. Can you please come to Willow Creek Hospital as soon as possible?"

A surge of panic coursed through Harry's veins as he turned to look at the backseat, where his four-year-old was sitting. He reached out and gently grasped his child's small hand, his mind racing with worry.

" ‘hat happened?" Harry asked, his voice quivering.

"I understand your concern, Mr. Styles," the doctor replied, his tone compassionate. "I assure you, we will explain everything once you're here. Please, make your way to the hospital as soon as you can."

Harry swallowed hard, his mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion.

"Yeah, ‘kay," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

12th August, 2022. — 16:09pm.

The hospital loomed before Harry like an imposing fortress of uncertainty. He had hurriedly dropped off Alfie at his manager Jeff's house, making sure his son was safe and away from the unsettling environment of a hospital. Now, his heart raced as he rushed through the sliding glass doors, the sterile scent hitting him like a wave as he stepped into the hospital's bustling foyer.

His eyes darted around, scanning the signs that pointed the way to different wards and departments. But his mind was a blur, and he found himself striding over to the reception desk, his voice hurried and tense.

"S’cuse me," Harry began, his voice tinged with anxiety. "M’looking f’m’wife, (Y/N) Styles. Can y’tell me where she is?"

The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, looked up from her computer screen and offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, sir. Let me check for you."

Harry's fingers tapped nervously on the counter as he waited, his gaze flitting around the lobby. The distant hum of footsteps, the occasional murmur of conversations – it all blended into a surreal symphony that only heightened his unease.

After a moment, the receptionist turned back to him. "It says on her notes that her doctor wants to speak to you before you l are updated on your wife, I’ll page her doctor and let him know your here, be will be out to speak with you shortly about your wife’s condition"

Harry's shoulders slumped slightly in frustration, but he nodded in acknowledgment. "Right. Thank you."

As he paced back and forth near the reception area, his mind raced with scenarios and questions. What had happened? Was (Y/N) okay? The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, a doctor emerged from the corridor beyond.

"Mr. Styles?" the doctor called out, his white coat billowing slightly as he approached.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest as he turned toward the doctor. "Yes, that's me."

The doctor extended a hand, his expression a mix of professionalism and empathy. "I'm Dr. Parker. Please, come with me. We have a private room where we can talk."

Dr. Parker led Harry down a series of hallways until they reached a small, private family room. The air inside felt heavy with anticipation, and as Harry stepped through the door, he could hardly ignore the sense of foreboding that settled over him.

Taking a seat, Harry's hands trembled slightly as he looked at the doctor, his eyes wide and expectant.

"I appreciate your patience, Mr. Styles," Dr. Parker began, his tone gentle. "I know this is a difficult time, and I want to provide you with as much information as I can."

Harry nodded, his heart pounding as he held onto every word the doctor spoke.

"Your wife, (Y/N) Styles, was brought in unconscious after the car accident," the doctor explained. "Upon evaluation and a CT scan, we discovered a small bleed on her brain. It's causing increased pressure, and we're closely monitoring her condition."

Harry's breath caught in his throat, his fingers clenching into fists as he absorbed the gravity of the situation. His wife, the person he loved more than anything, was facing a critical health challenge.

"Additionally," Dr. Parker continued, "she has sustained multiple injuries. Her ribs are fractured, and she has also broken her femur."

The weight of the doctor's words seemed to press down on Harry's chest, his mind struggling to process the extent of his wife's injuries. Images of her vibrant smile, her laughter, and the moments they had shared together flashed through his mind, a stark contrast to the reality he was now facing.

"What... what’re the next steps?" Harry managed to ask, his voice quivering.

"We've already begun treatment for the brain bleed," Dr. Parker explained. "She's under close observation in the Intensive Care Unit. Our priority is to stabilise her and manage the pressure on her brain. Once that's achieved, we'll assess the best course of action for her other injuries."

Harry nodded, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He wanted to be strong, for both his wife and their family, but the weight of the situation threatened to overwhelm him.

"Can I... can I see ‘er?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Parker nodded understandingly. "Of course. We're preparing a room for you to visit her briefly. Please keep in mind that she's still unconscious, and we're closely monitoring her condition."

As the doctor led Harry through the hospital corridors, the journey felt like a surreal blur. He couldn't shake the fear that gripped his heart, nor the deep sense of longing to see his wife's face, to hold her hand and offer his unwavering support.

The door to the room swung open, revealing you lying in the hospital bed, surrounded by machines and monitors. Your face appeared peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil within Harry's heart. He approached the bed, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.

"(Y/N)," Harry whispered, his voice laden with emotion. "M’here. I love you."

He held your hand gently, his grip offering both reassurance and a silent promise that he would be by your side throughout this challenging journey. As he looked at you, his heart swelled with a mixture of love and determination, a reminder that your bond was unbreakable, even in the face of adversity.

The soft beep of machines filled the room as Harry stood by your bedside, his gaze fixed on your still form. Dr. Parker joined him, his presence a mix of professionalism and empathy.

"Mr. Styles," the doctor began, his tone gentle, "I need to explain that due to the severity of (Y/N)'s injuries, we made the decision to place her in a medically induced coma."

Harry's heart sank at the doctor's words, his eyes widening as he turned to look at Dr. Parker. The gravity of the situation seemed to deepen with each passing moment, and the reality that you was facing a critical condition hit him like a ton of bricks.

"A coma?" Harry repeated, his voice barely audible.

"Yes," Dr. Parker confirmed. "Given the head injury and the need to reduce pressure on her brain, we initiated the coma to allow her body to heal and to give her the best chance of recovery."

Harry's hands trembled as he reached out to hold your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, his heart heavy with worry for his wife.

"I know this is incredibly difficult," Dr. Parker continued, his voice compassionate. "But the induced coma is a crucial part of her treatment plan. It will help minimise any further damage and allow us to closely monitor her brain activity."

Harry nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving your face. He felt a mixture of helplessness and determination, the need to be there for you overwhelming his thoughts.

"M’here f’er," Harry said, his voice firm. "Whatever she needs, I'll be here."

Dr. Parker nodded, his expression one of understanding. "Your presence and support are invaluable, Mr. Styles. We'll continue to keep you updated on her condition and progress."

Dr. Parker remained in the room, his expression a mix of concern and professionalism. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice measured yet compassionate.

"There's one more thing I need to discuss with you, Mr. Styles," the doctor said, his tone somber.

Harry's head shot up, his eyes locking onto Dr. Parker's. A sense of dread gripped him, his heart pounding as he awaited the doctor's words.

The doctor's gaze met Harry's, his eyes conveying a mixture of empathy and gravity. "Were you aware that your wife is pregnant?"

Harry's brows furrowed in confusion, his mind racing to process the question. He shook his head slightly. "No, I wasn't."

Dr. Parker nodded, his gaze steady. "According to our initial assessment and subsequent scans, (Y/N) is approximately 13 weeks pregnant."

Harry's eyes widened in shock, his thoughts a jumble of emotions. The news hit him like a tidal wave, the realisation that not only was you facing a critical condition, but your was also carrying yours and his second child.

"She... she’s pregnant?" Harry managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alfie was going to be a big brother.

"Yes," Dr. Parker confirmed. "The baby appears to be fine, given our initial scans. However, I need to be transparent with you, Mr. Styles. The circumstances surrounding the accident do pose a higher risk of miscarriage."

Harry's heart ached at the doctor's words, the weight of the situation heavy upon him. The room seemed to close in around him as he processed the reality of the delicate life that hung in the balance.

" ‘hat can we do?" Harry asked, his voice trembling.

Dr. Parker's expression softened. "Right now, the focus is on (Y/N)'s recovery. We'll continue to monitor both her and the baby closely. While the situation is delicate, we'll do everything we can to support their well-being."

Harry nodded, his thoughts a whirlwind of worry and determination. He glanced back at you, his hand instinctively moving to rest on your abdomen, as if trying to protect the life that was growing within her.

"Thank you, Dr. Parker," Harry said, his voice heavy with gratitude. "Please, do whatever y’can t’take care of them."

The doctor offered a reassuring nod. "We're committed to providing the best care possible, Mr. Styles. We'll keep you updated on any developments."

As the doctor left the room, Harry's gaze remained fixed on you, his heart a mixture of hope and fear. The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but he knew that the love and strength the two of you shared would be his guiding light, illuminating the path toward recovery for both you and their unborn child.

Dr. Parker's steps had barely faded when Harry found himself whispering to the still room, his voice a mixture of desperation and raw emotion.

"Y’can't leave us," Harry murmured, his fingers gently brushing your hand. "We need you. Alfie needs you."

His voice cracked as he spoke, the weight of his words heavy in the air. He looked at your face, so peaceful yet distant, and a lump formed in his throat.

"Alfie can't grow up without a mother," Harry continued, his voice trembling. "I don't know what I'll do without you."

Tears welled in his eyes as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He took a shaky breath, his fingers gripping your ones tighter.

"Y’everything t’us," Harry whispered, his voice barely audible. "We can't lose you."

The room was silent, the machines and monitors offering a haunting backdrop to his plea. Harry's heartache felt like an ache in his chest, a reminder of the fragility of life and the depth of his love for you and your unborn child.

DAY ONE. 13th August, 2022. — 07:54am.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow across the hospital room, Harry roused from his light slumber. He had spent the night in the chair beside your bed, his presence a steadfast symbol of his unwavering support. The machines continued their soft symphony, their rhythmic beeps and hums creating an almost surreal backdrop to the uncertainty that hung in the air.

A nurse, her footsteps soft and purposeful, entered the room. She moved gracefully, her experience evident in the way she approached your bedside and began checking her vitals. The machines responded with gentle beeps, their cadence familiar to Harry's ears by now. He watched the nurse's actions with a mix of hope and apprehension, his heart pounding in his chest.

As the nurse worked, her gaze shifted to Harry, and she offered a kind smile. "Good morning. Did you stay the whole night?"

Harry nodded, his voice hoarse as he replied, "Yeah, m’didn't want t’leave ‘er."

The nurse's gaze held a mixture of understanding and reassurance. "She's in safe hands here, Mr. Styles. We're doing everything we can for her."

Harry's grip on (Y/N)'s hand tightened, his gaze unwavering as he looked at the woman he loved. "I know, but I just... I can't leave her side."

The nurse nodded in understanding, her demeanour empathetic. "It's understandable that you want to be here for her. Just know that if you need anything – a drink, a meal, a moment to step outside – the nurses' station is just outside the door. Don't hesitate to reach out."

"Thank you," Harry said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I appreciate that."

With a final nod, the nurse completed her assessments and left the room, her presence a brief yet comforting interlude in the otherwise tense environment. Left alone once more with (Y/N), Harry's gaze returned to her face, his emotions a tumultuous mix of concern, love, and longing.

"Y’not alone in this," Harry whispered, his voice gentle. His fingers traced over her skin, the wedding band on her left hand a poignant reminder of the life they had built together. "We're in this together."

14:17pm.

Later in the afternoon, Harry's phone rang, shattering the quiet stillness of the room. His heart jumped at the sound, and he quickly retrieved the device, seeing his mum Anne's name on the screen. With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, he answered the call.

" ‘Ey, Mum," Harry greeted, his voice laced with a hint of anxiety.

"Harry, love," Anne's warm voice came through the line, tinged with concern. "I saw the announcement about the tour. Is everything alright?"

Harry's eyes welled up with tears, his emotions still raw and close to the surface. He took a deep breath, his voice shaky as he replied, "No, Mum. Everything's not alright."

Anne's voice softened with worry. "What happened, sweetheart?"

Harry's voice quivered as he began to recount the events of the past day, from the car accident to (Y/N)'s injuries and the delicate situation with their unborn child. As he spoke, the emotions that he had been trying to hold back surged forth, and tears rolled down his cheeks.

"I just... I can't lose her, Mama," Harry choked out, his voice breaking. "And Alfie... I don't want ‘im t’go through this. I don't know what t’do."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, a pause that carried a weight of empathy and understanding. Then, Anne's voice came through, filled with unwavering support.

"I'm catching the first flight out, Harry," Anne said firmly. "I want to be there for you, for Alfie, and for (Y/N)."

Harry's heart swelled with gratitude, his breath hitching as he wiped away tears. "Mum, y’don't have t’ I know y’have y’own commitments."

Anne's voice was resolute. "Harry, you're my son. Family comes first, always. I want to be there for all of you."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes once more, this time fueled by the overwhelming love and comfort that his mother's words brought. He took a shaky breath, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Thank you, Mum. I... I really need y’right now."

"Of course, love," Anne replied gently. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Take care of yourself and Alfie."

18:30pm.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm and soothing light across the hospital room, Harry remained rooted in his seat beside your bed. His unwavering presence was a testament to his devotion and concern for you, a quiet guardian watching over you as machines softly beeped and hummed in the background, a symphony of hope and uncertainty.

As the day's shadows grew longer, Harry turned his gaze to your serene face, his fingers still delicately entwined with your frail ones. With a tender smile, he began to speak, his voice a soothing balm in the hushed room.

"M’sun," he began, his words a blend of affection and determination,

His voice carried a note of eagerness, a glimmer of the future he envisioned. Gently, he reached out, his fingertips brushing against her hand as if conveying his sentiments through touch.

"When y’better we’ll go back t’England," he continued, a touch of excitement in his tone. "We'll leave everything behind f’a’while – the tour, the noise, the schedules. It can all wait. We can wait."

His gaze then shifted to her stomach, where their child was growing, a symbol of their love and resilience.

"N’this lil’one," he said softly, as though speaking directly to their unborn child, "we'll take y’to the places y’never seen. The countryside, the beaches, the parks. We'll have picnics and adventures. Your mum, I, and your big brother, Alf, we're going t’show y’the world."

A tender smile played on Harry's lips as he imagined the joy that such simple moments would bring to their son's life.

"We'll watch the sunset by the sea," Harry murmured, his voice an intimate whisper. "It'll be just the four of us, wrapped’n’blankets, sharing stories’n’laughter. We'll make memories that'll last a lifetime, (Y/N)."

His hand gently left hers and reached out, his palm resting tenderly on her stomach. The connection felt tangible, a bridge between the present challenges and the future joys they were determined to experience.

"We'll have all the time in the world," he promised softly. "Time for us, f’our family. No rush, no pressures. Just our love and the life we're creating."

DAY TWO. 14th August, 2022. — 08:03am.

The next day's gentle light filled the hospital room, casting a sense of quiet hope. Anne, Harry's mother, entered with a mixture of concern and determination etched on her face. Her gaze fell upon Harry, who remained hunched over in his chair, his fingers tightly interwoven with yours, and his eyes red-rimmed with sleeplessness. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she took in his exhausted appearance, noticing the telltale signs of strain.

"Harry," Anne's voice held both care and worry as she walked over. She crouched down next to him, gently touching his shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, love."

His eyes blinked open at her touch, his gaze filled with a mixture of surprise and relief as he registered his mother's presence. He managed a small smile, grateful for her being there.

"Mum?" His voice was hoarse, a mix of gratitude and exhaustion.

Anne offered him a soft smile, her fingers brushing a wayward strand of hair from his forehead. "I'm here, Harry."

He pushed himself up in the chair, a mixture of relief and emotions washing over him. He looked at his mother, his eyes red and heavy with sleepless nights, his exhaustion painted across his features like a canvas of worry.

Anne's eyes flickered with concern as she took in his appearance. "Harry, love, you look exhausted. How long have you been here?"

His gaze dropped, a mixture of guilt and weariness weighing heavily on him. "I... I haven't left ‘er side."

Anne's voice was a gentle mix of understanding and concern.

"Oh, Harry." She reached out, her hand gently lifting his chin, guiding his gaze back to her. Her fingers brushed away the tracks of tears that had silently fallen down his cheeks. "You can’t do this alone, my love."

He looked at her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his emotions finally bubbling to the surface. "I know, Mum. But I can't leave her. I can't..."

Anne's touch was soft as she cupped his cheek, her eyes brimming with motherly warmth. "Harry, you need rest too."

He turned his gaze back to yours, his expression one of intense worry and fear. "M’scared, Mum. Scared t’leave ‘er."

Anne's voice held a comforting note as she spoke. "I understand, H. But you need to recharge so you can be strong for (Y/N) and for Alfie."

His eyes met hers, his vulnerability shining through as his voice cracked. "Thank you, Mum. F’being here."

Anne's smile was tender, her thumb brushing his cheek as she wiped away a lingering tear. "Always, Harry. Always."

As their gazes held, the room seemed to fill with a sense of connection, the unbreakable bond of family reminding them that they were not alone in facing the challenges ahead.

Anne's voice held a reassuring note as she spoke once more. "Listen to me, Harry. You need to go home, get a shower, and spend some time with Alfie. He's probably got a lot of questions about where you and (Y/N) are. You can come back right after."

Harry hesitated, his eyes drifting back to you. "But ‘hat if something happens?"

Anne's hand rested on his cheek, her touch warm and grounding. "I'll be here the whole time. I promise, if anything happens, I'll call you right away."

The weight of Anne's reassurance settled over him like a comforting embrace, giving him the permission he needed to take care of himself and his family.

"Okay," he finally nodded, his voice soft and weary. "Okay, Mum."

08:58am.

Harry's car pulled into his manager Jeff's driveway, the engine's soft hum fading into the tranquil neighbourhood. He sat there for a moment, his thoughts a maelstrom of worry and uncertainty. This visit, intended to be a routine pickup of Alfie, had taken on a weight he hadn't expected. He took a deep breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening briefly before he finally turned off the ignition. For a few lingering seconds, he sat there, his hands resting on the wheel, gathering his strength.

With a deep sigh, Harry opened the car door and stepped onto the pavement. Each step to the front door felt heavy, a silent acknowledgment of the upheaval that had consumed his life. Before he could fully process it, he stood before the door, his knuckles poised to knock. In that fleeting moment, he closed his eyes, as if hoping to find solace in the darkness behind his lids.

The knock resounded through the door, a signal of his presence. As he waited, his heart seemed to echo the rhythm of the universe, the anticipation hanging thick in the air. The door swung open, revealing Jeff, his manager. The lines of concern etched on Jeff's face reflected the tumult that Harry carried within himself.

"Hey, H," Jeff greeted, his voice a mixture of understanding and empathy.

Harry managed a faint smile, though the weariness in his eyes betrayed the facade. "Hey, mate. M’gonna pick up Alf and then take ‘im t’see ‘is mum."

Jeff's eyes softened, recognizing the weight Harry carried. "Yeah, he's inside. Come on in."

Harry stepped into the familiar surroundings, the walls of Jeff's house offering a silent embrace. He took a steadying breath, feeling the weight of his emotions press against his chest. A mixture of memories and apprehensions filled the air, an intangible current that Harry navigated with each step he took.

"Alfie, it's your dad!" Harry's voice carried a blend of warmth and longing, the words directed down the hallway where his son would soon appear.

From within the depths of the house, a small voice responded, "Daddy?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his son's voice. He waited, his gaze fixated on the hallway, his breath caught in his throat.

And then, as if from a distant dream, Alfie burst into view. His face lit up like the sun breaking through the clouds, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he saw his dad. "Daddy!"

A rush of emotion overcame Harry as Alfie ran towards him, his little arms wrapping around his legs in an enthusiastic hug. Harry's own arms encircled his son, holding him close as if he were his anchor in the storm. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, a mixture of relief and tenderness flooding his heart.

" ‘ey, buddy," Harry murmured, his voice tinged with both love and weariness. He knelt down, his fingers ruffling Alfie's hair with a gentleness that only a father could muster.

Alfie looked up at him, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Are we going somewhere, Daddy?"

Harry managed a small, affectionate smile, his heart a tapestry of emotions. "Yea’ Alf. We're going t’go home and then go and see someone."

Alfie's face lit up with a radiant smile, his excitement contagious. "Yay!"

09:16am.

Harry's car rolled to a stop in front of their home, the engine's soft purr fading into the tranquil surroundings. The journey from Jeff's house had been a mixture of quiet conversations and Alfie's enthusiastic recounting of his day. As Harry stepped out of the car, he glanced up at their home, a mixture of warmth and heaviness settling over him. The familiarity of the place was a welcome comfort, yet the weight of the situation cast a shadow over everything.

Alfie bounded out of the car, his small steps carrying a youthful exuberance as he rushed towards the front door. His laughter filled the air as he fumbled with the keys under Harry's watchful eye.

"Alright there, buddy?" Harry's voice carried a mixture of amusement and tenderness.

Alfie looked up at his dad, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Yeah, Daddy! Can we play pirates when we get inside?"

Harry's smile was fond, a genuine reflection of his love for his son. " ‘f’course, mate. We can play pirates."

With the door unlocked, Alfie swung it open with a triumphant grin, his youthful energy infectious. As they stepped inside, the house enveloped them in a familiar embrace, the creak of floorboards and the soft hum of appliances a testament to the life they had built together.

"Daddy, look!" Alfie's voice carried from the living room, his excitement tangible even from a distance.

Harry followed his voice and found Alfie standing amidst a makeshift pirate ship of cushions and blankets. A sense of warmth filled Harry's heart as he watched his son play, the innocence of childhood a precious balm against the storm of emotions that had consumed their lives.

"Great job, Captain Alfie," Harry said with a playful salute, his heart aching with both sadness and a fierce determination to be strong for his son.

As Alfie continued his pirate adventures, Harry's gaze lingered for a moment before he turned and quietly retreated down the hallway. He stepped into the bathroom, the door closing with a soft click. The sound of the running water provided a gentle rhythm, a backdrop to the thoughts that had been hovering at the edges of his mind.

The water cascaded over Harry's body, the warmth soothing his muscles but doing little to ease the ache in his heart. As he stood under the spray, his head bowed, tears mingled with the water, the release of his emotions a quiet catharsis.

He lathered up a razor and carefully shaved, the rhythmic motion offering a small sense of normalcy amidst the chaos. Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and reached for another to dry his hair.

As he moved through the motions of getting dressed, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror. The image that stared back at him was a complex tapestry of emotions – a father, a husband, a man who was holding onto hope amidst uncertainty.

The tears he had shed in the shower had left traces on his face, a silent testament to the pain he was carrying. But as he looked at himself, there was a quiet strength in his eyes, a resolve to be the pillar of support that his family needed.

With one last glance in the mirror, Harry stepped out of the bathroom, his footsteps carrying him back to the living room where Alfie's laughter echoed. The journey ahead was uncertain, but in the simple moments like this, Harry found the strength to navigate the storm, determined to be the anchor that held his family together.

10:01am.

As they sat in the back of the car, the engine's gentle hum providing a comforting backdrop, Harry stole a glance at Alfie. His son's curious eyes were fixed on the passing scenery, his mind likely filled with questions that he didn't yet know how to voice. Harry took a deep breath, his heart heavy with the task ahead.

" ‘ey, buddy," Harry began, his voice gentle yet tinged with a mixture of sadness and reassurance.

Alfie turned his head to look at his dad, his expression a mix of curiosity and trust. "Yeah, Daddy?"

Harry smiled, his eyes warm with affection. "Y’know how Mummy's not at home right now? She's in the hospital."

Alfie's brows furrowed slightly, his young mind processing the information. "Why is Mummy in the hospital, Daddy?"

Harry sighed softly, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel for a moment before he continued. "Well, y’remember when we talked about how sometimes people get hurt or sick, and doctors help them feel better?"

Alfie nodded, his gaze fixed on his dad's face, absorbing every word.

"Exactly," Harry affirmed. "Mummy got a lil’hurt, ‘n’the doctors are taking care of her t’make sure she gets better."

Alfie's expression shifted to one of concern, his eyes widening slightly. "Is Mummy going to be okay, Daddy?"

Harry's voice held a soothing tone, his hand reaching back to briefly squeeze Alfie's knee. "Ye’,buddy. The doctors are doing everything they can, and we're going t’visit her right now."

Alfie nodded slowly, the weight of the situation evident in his gaze. "Can I see Mummy, Daddy?"

Harry smiled softly, his heart aching at his son's innocence. " f’course, Alf. We're going t’see her together."

As they continued on the journey to the hospital, the atmosphere in the car was a blend of quiet anticipation and unspoken emotions. Harry's grip on the steering wheel was steady, his thoughts a mixture of concern for (Y/N) and a determination to provide comfort and reassurance to Alfie.

"Buddy," Harry said after a moment, his voice gentle, "if y’have any questions or if y’feeling worried, y’can always talk t’me. I'm here f’you."

Alfie's small hand reached out to grasp Harry's, his fingers curling around his dad's hand. "I love you, Daddy."

Tears pricked at the corners of Harry's eyes, his grip on the steering wheel momentarily tightening. "I love you too, Alfie. We're a team, okay? We'll get through this together."

10:35am.

Harry walked into the hospital room, Alfie nestled in his arms, their footsteps quiet against the linoleum floor. The room, typically a place of healing, was filled with an air of uncertainty and tension. Harry's gaze shifted from the floor to the sight that awaited them – you lying still on the bed, your eyes closed, your form a stark contrast to the vibrant woman he knew.

As they entered, Alfie's eyes widened, his gaze immediately drawn to the figure on the bed. He also noticed Anne sat next to the bed,However, this time, the usual excitement that would accompany seeing his grandmother wasn't present. His little body tensed in Harry's arms, his eyes fixated on his mother's still form, the weight of the situation settling over him.

"Daddy," Alfie's voice was a mere whisper, tinged with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty.

Harry held him a bit tighter, his heart aching at the realisation that Alfie was trying to process what he was seeing. "Yea’, buddy?"

Alfie's small hand pointed toward the corner of the room, where Anne stood, her gaze filled with a mix of sympathy and love. Typically, Alfie would have dashed over to her with the energy only a child possessed, but now, he seemed frozen in place.

"Is that Grandma, Daddy?" Alfie's voice was soft, almost hesitant.

Harry nodded, his own eyes briefly meeting Anne's before he turned his attention back to his son. "Yea’, that's Grandma."

Alfie's gaze shifted back to you, his eyes filling with a mixture of emotions that were too complex for his young heart to fully understand. He looked back at Harry, his voice carrying a request that seemed beyond his years. "Daddy, can I go hold Mummy's hand?"

Harry's heart swelled with both sadness and pride at Alfie's resilience. He walked over to the bed, carefully lowering Alfie to the edge of it. "Of course, Alf. Y’can even give her a little cuddle, j’gotta be careful."

Alfie's tiny hand reached out, hesitating for a moment before he gently placed it on your hand, his eyes studying her features as if searching for a sign of life. His other hand rested on your arm, his touch gentle yet filled with an innocence that brought tears to Harry's eyes.

As Alfie leaned in, his small body pressed against his mother's, Harry stood beside them, his emotions a tempest within him. He watched as Alfie's head rested on your chest, his breaths steady, as if seeking solace in the closeness of his mother.

"Y’doing great, buddy," Harry whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

Alfie's voice was soft, a mixture of curiosity and longing. "Is Mummy asleep, Daddy?"

Harry's heart ached at the innocence in his son's question. "Yeah, Alf, she's asleep right now."

Alfie's gaze remained fixed on yours, his small fingers curling around your cold hand. The room held a fragile sense of connection, as if time itself had slowed down to honour the moment. In that stillness, Harry watched his son, his heart both heavy with grief and full of hope for the future.

DAY THREE. 15th August, 2022. — 14:12am.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the hospital room. Harry sat by your side, his gaze fixed on your still form, his thoughts a jumble of hope and uncertainty. Anne had taken Alfie back to the house, giving Harry some time alone with his wife.

As he sat there lost in his thoughts, the door creaked open, and a doctor entered the room. Harry looked up, his eyes meeting the doctor's with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

"Good morning," the Dr Parker greeted, his voice gentle and reassuring. “How’re you holding up?”

Harry managed a faint smile, his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and fatigue. "Doing m’best, thank you."

Dr. Parker nodded understandingly, his gaze shifting to your form before back to Harry. "I'm here to talk to you about the next steps. Given the circumstances, we'd like to perform an ultrasound to check on the baby."

Harry's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the baby. The mixture of hope and fear that had been his constant companion intensified. "F’course, whatever y’think is best."

A nurse entered the room, carrying the necessary equipment for the ultrasound. She smiled at Harry as she prepared for the procedure. "Hello, I'm Chloe. We'll make sure everything goes smoothly."

Harry offered a small smile in return although it never fully reached his eyes, his eyes shifting between the doctor and the nurse. "Thank you."

As the nurse prepped the ultrasound machine, Dr. Parker explained the procedure to Harry. "We'll be able to see the baby on the screen and check for any signs of distress or complications. It's a routine precautionary measure."

Harry nodded, his fingers involuntarily tracing patterns on your hand. "I understand."

The nurse positioned the ultrasound device on your abdomen, and the monitor came to life, displaying the fuzzy image of the baby. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he saw the tiny figure on the screen – their unborn child, a symbol of hope amid the uncertainty.

He watched as the nurse moved the device, the image shifting slightly, revealing more details of the baby. The room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the soft hum of the machine.

"There we go," the nurse's voice was gentle, her expertise apparent in the way she manoeuvred the device.

Dr. Parker stood by, her gaze shifting between the screen and Harry's expression. "Everything looks good so far. The baby's heartbeat is strong."

A rush of relief washed over Harry at the doctor's words. He couldn't help but feel a swell of emotion, a mixture of awe and gratitude for the life that was growing within your body.

As the nurse finished the ultrasound, she smiled at Harry. "You have a healthy, strong baby here."

Harry's eyes were fixed on the screen for a moment longer, his voice soft. "Thank you."

The nurse and the doctor left the room, giving Harry some space. He turned his attention back to you, his hand gently resting on your abdomen. The image of their baby, captured on the ultrasound screen, held a promise of better days ahead. As he sat there, a sense of determination settled within him, a resolve to be strong for his family and to hold onto hope, no matter the challenges they faced.

15:05pm.

Later in the afternoon, the room was bathed in a soft, warm light. Harry sat by your bedside, his gaze shifting between your still form and the monitor that displayed the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. The room held a hushed stillness, as if time itself had slowed down in the face of the uncertainty that lay ahead.

Harry's hand rested on your stomach, his touch gentle yet filled with an unspoken tenderness. As he looked at the monitor, his thoughts drifted to the tiny life that was growing within your – their unborn bundle. His heart swelled with a mixture of love and protectiveness.

" ‘Ey there, little one," Harry's voice was soft, his fingers tracing patterns on your abdomen. "Y’mum and I, we're here f’y’We're going t’be strong, just like y’mum."

His gaze shifted to your face, his heart aching at the sight of the bruises that were slowly starting to become more prominent. He reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Y’mum's the strongest person I know, y’know? She's been through s’much, and she's still fighting. Y’going t’be just as strong as her."

A soft smile tugged at Harry's lips as he imagined their future together as a family of four. He leaned down, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your stomach, as if to convey his love and hope directly to their unborn child.

"Y’not alone in this, lil’one," Harry continued, his voice carrying a mixture of reassurance and determination. "We're all in this together. And when y’ready t’meet the world, y’have a whole lot of people who love ye’."

As he spoke, the room seemed to hold a sense of promise, a quiet sanctuary where his words held the power to bridge the gap between the present and the future. Harry's hand remained on your stomach, his touch a physical connection to the life that were growing within her.

"We're going t’get through this, y’and me and y’mum," Harry's voice was a whisper, as if sharing a secret with the unborn baby. "And when y’mum wakes up, we're going t’tell her all about ye’. She's going t’love y’so much."

Harry's gaze shifted back to your face,his heart filled with a mixture of longing and hope. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Hang in there, love. We're all waiting f’you."

As Harry's words hung in the air, the room seemed to hold its breath, as if the universe itself was listening to his heartfelt monologue. His hand remained on your stomach, his touch both tender and resolute. He leaned in, pressing a final kiss to your forehead, a mixture of emotions welling up within him.

And then, in a moment that felt like a miracle, your hand twitches in his hold.

Harry gasped, his heart leaping in his chest. He stared at your hand, disbelief and hope warring within him. Before he could react, the heart rate monitor suddenly went off, the rapid beeping filling the room with urgency.

With a sense of determination, Harry bolted out of the room, his heart pounding in his ears. He found Dr. Parker in the hallway and quickly explained what had just happened – how your hand had moved, triggering the heart rate alarm.

Dr. Parker's eyes widened in surprise and excitement. "Let's not waste any time. Come with me."

Harry followed the doctor back into the room, his pulse racing as they reached your bedside. A sense of tension hung in the air, a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

Dr. Parker approached the heart rate monitor, checking the readings and your vitals. His expression was a mix of concentration and cautious hope. He adjusted a few settings on the machines, his fingers moving with practised precision.

"She's trying to breathe on her own," Dr. Parker said, his voice carrying a note of astonishment. "Her body is responding to stimuli."

Harry's heart swelled with a mixture of joy and disbelief. He looked at your figure, his fingers gently brushing against your hand. "Y’doing it, m’love. Y’fighting."

Dr. Parker continued his assessments, his focus unwavering as he monitored the changes in your condition. The room seemed to vibrate with a newfound energy, a sense of possibility that had been absent for so long.

As the minutes ticked by, the heart rate monitor displayed a steadier rhythm, and Dr. Parker nodded in approval. "She's showing signs of improvement. She could wake up at any moment. It's a positive step forward."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes, his voice choked with emotion. "Thank y’Doctor."

18:45pm.

The hospital room was cocooned in the gentle embrace of the night. The soft glow of the dimmed bedside lamp cast a warm and soothing ambiance, casting delicate shadows across the walls. The rhythmic beep of the heart rate monitor punctuated the stillness, a reassuring reminder of the life that pulsed within the room.

Alfie sat nestled on his father's lap, his small frame comfortably settled against Harry's chest. The hospital chair cradled them both, a makeshift throne where father and son formed an intimate fortress of love and togetherness. Harry's arms wrapped protectively around Alfie, holding him close as they shared the moment.

Alfie's concentrated expression was etched with a mixture of focus and determination. His tiny fingers clutched a pencil, his brow furrowing as he tackled the math problems that were laid out before him on the sheet of paper. Harry watched with a blend of admiration and amusement, his heart swelling at the sight of Alfie's dedication.

"Okay, buddy," Harry's voice was a gentle blend of guidance and encouragement, "y’got this. J’add those numbers together."

Alfie's tongue peeked out from between his lips as he concentrated, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The tip of the pencil move with purpose, crossing out digits and jotting down numbers. Every so often, Alfie would glance up at Harry, his gaze seeking validation and assurance.

Harry's fingers gently brushed the back of Alfie's head, offering silent encouragement. "Y’doing great, Alf. Keep going."

The two of them formed a heartwarming tableau, a portrait of fatherly support and shared effort. Amid the beeping monitors and the hushed hum of the hospital, Harry and Alfie created their own small world, a world in which challenges were met with determination and love was expressed through shared moments.

And then, in the midst of the quietude, a movement caught Harry's attention. His eyes shifted from the maths problems to the bed, where you lay, and his heart ricocheted against his rib cage.

Your eyes were open and staring at your two boys.

“(Y/N)?” Harry spoke in a hushed whisper as you tried to smile at him.

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daisyrb-gvf · 7 months

Text

Cruising Into Love-Part 2

d.r.w. x f!reader

I'm so excited to be posting this so soon after the first chapter! The third may take a while longer, but this story is just pouring out of me.

Words: 4.6k

Summary: On a solo adventure to the waterfalls of the Bahamas, you run into Danny, off on an adventure of his own.

Warnings: language, cheesy sibling love, hot and heavy make out, that's pretty much it for this one

“Danny…Danny….DANIEL, HELLO!?” Josie leans across the table, waving her hand in front of Danny’s face, snapping him out of his daydream. “I’m attempting to have an enjoyable lunch with my big brother,” she jokes, taking a bite of pineapple.

“I’m sorry, sis. I think that run must have tired me out,” Danny replies, “What’s up?”

Josie chuckles, looking down at her plate, absent-mindedly moving some lettuce around with her fork. “Yeah I bet so.” She flicks her eyes up to Danny before stabbing another piece of fruit.

“What do you mean?” Danny asks, trying to put on his best confused expression.

Josie gives him a knowing stare, boring her eyes through him, “You can fool mom and dad, and-if you’re really good-you can maybe even fool Sam, but you know you cannot fool me.”

“Jos, I really don–” Danny cuts himself off, knowing the attempt is futile. She’s right. Everyone thinks your brothers-especially Sam-know you best, and while they are very close, no one knows you like your little sister. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit she may have gotten me a little distracted. I’m sorry. I’m here now. What were you saying?”

“Oh, nothing important. Let’s talk about this girl!” Josie gushes as she pushes her plate aside, resting her elbows on the table and propping her chin up with two little fists.

Danny chuckles and sighs, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. He glances out at the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling glass window next to the table. His lip twitches up into a little smirk that he tries to hide from his eager (and nosey) little sister. “I mean…you’ve seen her basically as much as I have, with the exception of our run, and it’s not like we were talking during that. There’s no way I could have. She is fast.” He cracks a smile and picks up his glass of water, the condensation cool and wet on his calloused fingertips.

“You seemed to be having a nice little conversation with her before I came out there,” she replies kindly, not wanting to sound accusatory.

“We only talked for a couple of minutes, and it was really just small talk. I don’t even think she’s told us her name,” he chuckles.

“It’s y/n,” Josie replies, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, I know, but only from the cruise itinerary,” Danny says as he steals a strawberry from Josie’s plate.

“Come on, dude! The buffet is right there. Go get your own food!”

“You just pushed your plate away! I didn’t want it to go to waste. What would Sam say?” he asks, feigning offense as he plucks another strawberry from her plate.

Josie rolls her eyes, “Clearly, the girl is flustered around you. Give her a break, and maybe she assumes you know her name because of the itinerary. Did you consider that?”

“Okay, I hear you,” Danny says, putting his hands up in defense. “All I’m saying is, I hardly know anything about the girl, other than the fact that she could probably kick my ass in a foot race and she is a talented musician.”

“Oh, yeah. No big deal. Just two qualities you would love in a woman,” Josie replies sarcastically, kicking his shin gently under the table and grinning.

“Sis, we are on this boat for seven more days, and then what? I’m not gonna be the guy that has a week-long fling and just…disappears,” Danny says, before taking another sip of water.

“Why not?” Josie asks, a genuine curious expression on her face.

Danny looks surprised by her response. “Because…well, it’s kind of shitty, isn’t it? Getting some girl all blissed out on me and then just leaving?”

“First of all,” Josie starts, leaning back in her chair, “she’s not the only one who would be getting ‘blissed out’ okay? Clearly, the feeling is mutual there, so don’t be all macho, dude.”

Danny laughs and rolls his eyes, “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know, but your little sis has to make sure you know your place. All the crazy fans out there are gonna give you a big head, so I’m just doing my job,” she smiles proudly, crossing her arms. Danny smiles and softly shakes his head. “Secondly, she works here. She knows that the people she sees for a week or two will likely never cross her path again, so if she seems interested, I’m sure she has that in mind as well.”

Danny considers for a moment with pause, “...yeah, I suppose so.”

“And lastly-the big one-she doesn’t know who you are.”

“Wait, how do you know?”

“Because I heard her ask you what you do as I was walking outside earlier today. She has no clue you’re a rockstar. And that is a huge win for you,” she says with a smile, her big hazel eyes-slightly more green than Danny’s-glinting in the sunlight pouring through the window.

“So, what…do I just lie to her?” Danny asks, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

“Of course not, but she doesn’t need all the details. You two can geek out on music and sports and whatever-the-hell other things you undoubtedly have in common, without throwing in ‘oh, by the way, I’m a super famous Grammy-winning rockstar that girls and gays swoon over and write thousands of fanfictions about,” Josie replies, mustering up her best impersonation of her brother.

“Oh, God please don’t remind me of the fanfictions,” Danny buries his face in his hands, his elbows on the table. “You know mom started to read one once?” he laughs.

Josie giggles uncontrollably, getting a few looks from the family sitting at the table next to them. “Oh, poor mom! Was it at least a sweet one?” she asks between giggles, wiping away a stray tear.

“Definitely not. I heard her talking to Karen about it. ‘Oh, Karen, it was awful! That’s my baby boy!’” Danny mimics his mother before breaking out into a loud belly laugh.

“Stop! I’m gonna pee my pants!” Josie chokes out between giggles, wiping tears away again.

“Okay, I think we should go,” Danny says in between laughs, glancing over at the family who is clearly getting very irritated with their antics.

Josie grabs her purse and sweeps her long, brown, wavy hair over her shoulder as they both stand up and make their way out of the restaurant. Danny follows, slipping his phone into the pocket of his khaki shortie shorts. Holding the door open for his sister, she stops and turns to him.

“You deserve to have a little fun, big brother,” she smiles at him kindly. Danny smiles back as they begin to walk down the hallway. He wraps his strong arm around his sister’s dainty shoulders, giving her a small peck on top of her head.

“Thanks, sis.”

“So, since I beat your ass during our run earlier, let’s say we go play some mini golf so I can beat you at that too?”

“You’re on,” Danny replies, ruffling her hair like any annoying big brother would. Josie playfully shoves him before smoothing her hair out

“So, be honest: how many fanfictions about you have you read,” Josie asks, laughing again. Danny stays silent for a minute, his face turning red. “How many?!” she asks again, her eyes widening and jaw dropping in a big smile.

“Just a few,” he purses his lips, trying to hold back a smile. “What about you, sis?”

“Ew. None. You know there’s nothing out there your sister would want to read,” she replies, a disgusted look on her face.

Danny laughs loudly, “That’s a good point, but what about the Kiszkas, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows and smirks.

‘........just a few.”

They both laugh loudly as they head into the elevator, making their way to the top deck.

– – –

The sun beats down on your skin as you stretch out in the little parachute hammock you hung at the bow of the ship-one of the few places the guests can’t access. The boat is being docked and you can hear the bustle of people anxious to get to their excursions and shopping sprees. You debate on going out for a little excursion of your own once the ship starts to empty out. You love Nassau, and you are dying to explore that hidden trail again that leads up to the waterfalls. You decide to go have a little adventure, so you pack up your hammock and head back to your bunk to put on your hiking shorts, tank top, and Chacos. Once the bulk of guests have funneled off the ship, you head out and hop on one of the shuttles into town. Getting off at the last stop by the trails, you follow a group of people through the trees. You know that there is a fork in the trail that the excursionists take a right on. Once you reach it, you make a left and start the hike on your own. Some tourists have taken the trail before, but once they reach a dead end they turn around. You, however, explored your way through the trees for about another half mile last year and found a small little swimming hole with a waterfall flowing down into it. It felt like your own secret spot. A reprieve from the constant bustle of people and tiny bunk that you have to share.

As you meander through the trees and brush, you take in the sights and sounds around you. Lush, bright green trees and bushes of all types, little patches of flowers sprouting up every few feet. The mossy, soft ground padding your footsteps. You stop for a moment and close your eyes, inhaling deeply, enjoying the sounds of birds singing and bugs chirping. The smell of the vegetation and the distant ocean overtaking your senses. You smile and increase your pace once you hear the low rumble of the waterfall. Almost there. The cool mist sprays against your sweat-dampened skin, offering relief from your slightly difficult climb. You start to make your way down to the little shore area, but stop in your tracks when you hear a splash in the water. Slowly, stealthily inching forward, you peek behind a tree to see who could have found your secret spot. Your stomach sinks for a moment, sad that you’ve lost what you thought was just yours, and hoping it’s just a skilled explorer on vacation. After a moment, the culprit emerges from the crystal clear water.

Mess of curls, sopping wet and sticking to his sculpted cheeks, water dripping down his broad, tanned shoulders and defined pecs and abs. Your jaw drops when you see him run his hands through his hair, pushing it away from his face and closing his eyes as he tips his head back, feeling the sun’s heat wash over him after the cool dip. You can see each muscle in his arms, shoulders, and torso flex with his movements and your breathing intensifies as your eyes roam, hungry to take in as much of this Adonis-looking man as possible, taking mental pictures to commit to memory. The smattering of hair on his chest and just below his belly button look oh so enticing. You lick your lips, eyes hooded as he turns around. His shoulders flex and move and you can see the definition in his triceps as he extends his arms out to either side, as if he is welcoming nature to envelope him completely. His entire body glistens in the sun, emphasizing every detail that’s making you weak in the knees. You start to feel a little creepy ogling him like this without him knowing, but you are having a hard time tearing your eyes away, especially as you feel your swimsuit bottoms dampening from the sight of him. You force yourself to turn around, frustrated that your personal nirvana has been taken from you, and even more frustrated that you know you won’t be able to focus on anything else but the way his wet, toned body looks for weeks.

“Do you want to join me, or would you prefer to just enjoy the view,” Danny calls out as he turns around and smirks in your direction.

You stop in your tracks, eyes getting wide as your whole body flushes from embarrassment. Well, you’ve been caught, and it would probably be creepier to run away, so instead you slowly turn around.

“Oh, um…I…I just got here a minute ago…I thought no one else knew about this place, so I was..uh, just…surprised.” Your face is beet red and you’re awkwardly fidgeting with your hands. You drop your backpack so you have something to busy them with, even if just for a moment.

He chuckles and glances down for a moment. He seems a little shy, surprisingly. He sounded so confident with his invitation.

“So…what do you say? Want to join me? The water feels amazing.” He sinks further down and slowly tips his head back, feeling the cool water tickling his scalp inch by inch.

You did come all this way, and you suppose there’s no reason not to enjoy it, even if it isn’t what you expected. You would also be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t aching to get closer to him, seeing his wet body in all its glory gleaming in the sun up close. You kick off your sandals and slowly peel off your tank top and shorts, revealing your hot pink string bikini underneath. You swear you see his eyes darken a bit as he gazes at you, but it’s hard to tell with the distance between you two. You’ve always felt comfortable and confident with your body, but suddenly you feel very vulnerable and exposed. You muster up a weak smile as you slowly walk toward him, dipping your toe in the water. It’s a shock to the system after sweating in the humid heat during your hike. A shiver runs through your spine, and you're not sure if it’s from the cold water, or the man walking toward you, the water receding down his body with each step. He offers his hand to help you over the slightly rocky shore, as you gingerly step in. You breathe out a quick puff of air, sinking further into the water as he walks backward. Your nipples harden as the water reaches them, and you notice Danny’s gaze move to them for just a moment. God, he is just so beautiful. His sun-kissed face is practically glowing, emphasizing his features. You get a better look at his boyish freckles dusted over his cheeks and perfect, sharp nose-a slight curve at the end of it. His eyes are a lighter hue in the sunlight, and a few droplets of water drip down his face, one drop catching on his long, dark lashes. He blinks it away, and you notice a rogue little freckle just under his right eye. You suddenly have the urge to kiss it softly, causing you to look away in embarrassment. Once you’re both fully immersed in the water he releases your hand and moves to his back, floating peacefully as he closes his eyes.

“So, you’ve been here before?” he asks, eyes still closed, looking so peaceful and happy in this moment.

You bob in the water, using this opportunity to drink him in some more while his eyes are closed. The water ebbs and flows across his hard, yet impossibly soft-looking chest and stomach, a little pool of liquid settling in his belly button. You notice he has those little yellow shorts on again. The water lapping against his legs causes his shorts to alternate between flowing around him and sticking to his legs, showing off his muscle definition. He must run every day to get muscles like that.

Snapping yourself out of it, you reply, “Yeah quite a few times, actually. I thought I was the only one who knew about this place. Have you been here before? I’m not even sure most of the locals know about it.”

“No, I haven’t, but I like to explore, and I have a pretty good sense of direction. I just headed the same general direction that I knew the falls were at, and eventually found my way. Once I heard the water, I just followed the sound. How did you find it?”

“Actually, the exact same way,” you chuckle, moving onto your back as well, floating next to him.

Your hands brush together for a moment, the water pulling you closer together. The electricity that ran through your body caused your eyes to widen in surprise.

Danny feels that same electricity. If he is being honest, he felt it the moment he realized you were watching him from behind the trees. He never thought of himself as an exhibitionist, but he just couldn’t help showing off what you were clearly enjoying. Plus, he hoped it would entice you to stay. Imagining seeing you in a little bikini he hoped you were sporting made his blood run hot through his veins and surge down to his groin. Actually seeing it made him very glad you were in cold water.

“Are you disappointed?” Danny asked after a moment.

You looked over in surprise and he returned your gaze. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“That I found your spot. I assume you staked a claim since you said you didn’t know anyone else knew about it, and if you’ve been here several times with no one knowing about it, you probably decided to keep it to yourself. So…are you disappointed?”

You stay silent for a moment, because you did feel disappointment…at first. But now, you feel content sharing it with him. “No. I’m not disappointed at all,” you reply with a soft smile.

“Good!” he responds cheerily, popping up to swim a few laps around the small pool.

You giggle as the water splashes you before dipping under, washing away the sweat (and probably dirt) from your face. Popping back up, you run your hands over your eyes and through your hair, smoothing it back and away from your face. You open your eyes and catch Danny staring. A smirk forms on your face when you think about the role reversal. Danny doesn’t look away this time. Instead he slowly swims closer to you, keeping eye contact as his body floats mere inches from yours.

“Wanna play?” he asks, his lips curling up into a boyish smile that takes your breath away.

“Play?” you ask breathlessly, matching his grin.

“Yeah,” he grins wider, flashing those bright white teeth.

You giggle, heart racing over how adorable he is. “What, like Marco Polo or something, or were you thinking mermaids?” you laugh.

“Both sound fun,” he chuckles, “but I say Marco Polo. I’ll go first!”

He looks so excited that it makes your heart ache. It seems so silly, but why not? Who says two 20-something year olds can’t play Marco Polo and have fun like kids get to?

“Okay yeah! Let’s do it!” you giggle and wait for him to close his eyes.

“1…2…3…” he starts to count.

“Wait!” you stop him, “What are we counting to?”

“Hmmm, it’s a pretty small swimming hole. Let’s say 10. Sound good?”

“Yeah! Okay, start over,” you giggle again. You haven’t giggled like this in longer than you can remember. You push away a tiny pang of sadness, realizing how truly lonely you’ve been.

“Okay,” he grins again, starting back up, “1…2…”

You dip under the water and swim as silently as possible to the little overhang next to the falls- almost like a shallow cave- trying not to giggle in anticipation.

“9…10! Marco!” he calls out, swimming around excitedly. God, it must be nice to still hold on to that child-like excitement over a little game like this.

“Polo!” you call out, hoping the sound of the falls throws off your location.

He swims in the opposite direction and you throw your hand over your mouth, trying not to giggle. You’re so giggly right now. It feels foreign, but so nice.

“Marco!” he calls out again from further away.

“Polo!”

He starts to swim in your direction and you feel the same anxious excitement you did as a kid, playing in your parents’ pool with your cousins.

“Marco!”

“Polo” you call out as quietly as possible so he can barely hear you.

“Hey, that’s not fair! You’re cheating!” he complains, but his grin tells you he’s still having a blast.

You want to argue with him, but you stay silent, not wanting to give away your position, especially since he is getting dangerously close. He approaches you, under the overhang where it’s much quieter and has an echo.

“Marco!” he calls out, a small look of shock on his face, not realizing where he is.

“Polo,” you say softly.

He darts toward you and you squeal, swimming away. He catches your foot and you laugh loudly, trying to swim away from him.

“Gotcha!” he exclaims, opening his eyes.

Danny’s breath is almost taken away seeing the way your grin lights up your whole face. Pure joy. You’ve only looked nervous or out of breath around him so far. He already thought you were beautiful, but that look…the way you bit your bottom lip and giggled as you looked at him. He can’t look away. He swims closer to you, inches away again.

“Your turn.” His voice is low and barely above a whisper. Your breath catches and your eyes roam across his chest and shoulders, settling on his neck-droplets of water slowly gliding down over and around his Adam’s apple, like yesterday, but today it is so much more enticing being alone and secluded with him.

“Okay,” you breathe, slowly swimming back to the center of the pool. “You ready?” you call out once you reach your destination.

“Yeah!”

“Alright, 1…2…3…” you count to 10 immediately yelling, “Marco!”

“Polo!” His voice is like velvet, and it makes it hard to focus. He’s actually really well-spoken, now that you think about it. He enunciates well, more so than most men his age, and his pitch isn’t low, but the timbre of his voice is. It makes you wonder what he would sound like speaking softly in your ear.

You shake yourself out of your daydream, swim toward the sound and call out again, “Marco!”

“Polo!”

He sounds a lot closer now, and you’re surprised he’s not trying to be quieter.

“Marco!” You swim closer to the falls, the spray hitting your face.

“Polo,” he says quietly, but only because it sounds like he is right next to you.

“Marco,” you say softly, reaching out and feeling the water falling onto your hand.

“Polo,” he whispers. You can feel his hot breath inches from your face.

You touch his chest and open your eyes. The water from the falls assaults his back as he leans in, his lips so close you can already feel them. You suck in a breath, looking down at his lips…so soft and supple and oh so inviting. You place your other hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath, his skin so warm and soft, the muscles firm under your fingertips. Just how you imagined.

“Can I kiss you, y/n” he whispers, his lips so close that they brush yours when he says your name.

“Yes,” you breathe, running your hands up to his shoulders. You're so eager and dying to claw at his shoulders, latch onto his lips and steal the breath from his lungs, but you let him take the reins.

He moves in slowly, so slowly you don’t even know how it’s possible considering how little space there is between you already. You feel your hardened nipples rub against his chest, and you feel hot to your core. You want to devour him. He finally locks his lips with yours, softly. Oh so softly. You let out a small whimper. He tastes so much better than you could have dreamed. His lips are warm and gentle and they mold perfectly with yours. He settles one hand on your hip under the water, and caresses your back with the other. It feels so intimate that your heart aches. You glide your hands around his shoulders to his back, one settling there while the other moves up and snakes through his wet curls. Your lips intertwine in a perfectly choreographed dance. You still feel the urgency to taste more of him, but God this feels so good-savoring one another. He introduces his tongue, lightly brushing it against your lower lip, and you happily welcome it, opening your mouth and softly licking back, your tongues now entering this slow dance. He pulls you flush with his body and you gasp, feeling his groin against your heat. He’s already getting hard, and you relish in it. You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he wraps your legs around his waist, both of you still bobbing in the water and giggling when you move toward the falls, the water breaking your kiss. You both swim back over a couple of feet, not leaving your embrace. You take over, gripping his shoulder and kissing him deeply, moaning into his mouth. He whimpers softly-a sound that you will most definitely be committing to memory-and runs his hand through your hair, holding you steady as he pulls back from the kiss for a moment.

“I…I need just a minute,” he says with a small laugh.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you say, embarrassed as you pull away.

“No! God, no, please don’t leave.” He gently pulls you back to him and wraps his arms around you, caressing your back again. “I just…if I don’t stop now…Well, I don’t know how I’ll be able to hold back,” he confesses, looking down shyly. God, your heart is aching for this man you barely know.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, gently guiding his chin up with your knuckle. “We should probably head out soon anyway. It looks like an afternoon storm is rolling in.” You both glance up at the sky and see dark gray clouds forming overhead.

“Yeah…I guess we should,” he says, sounding disappointed, but somehow relieved at the same time. “Plus, you have a performance tonight, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, I do,” you reply with a small smile, looking intrigued. “You looked for me on the itinerary?”

He looks down again shyly. It’s so cute how nervous he is right now. You thought he was just so confident and sure of himself before. “Yeah, I did. Josie and I thought maybe we would bring our parents tonight. They would love it.”

“That’s sweet,” you smile. “I would love to see you there again. Any requests?”

“Anything by Elton John,” he replies as you both start to swim to shore.

“That, I can definitely do,” you giggle again as you both step out.

Pulling towels from your respective backpacks, you dry off quickly before throwing on your clothes and shoes. Pulling on your packs, you make your way to the trail.

“I hope we can beat the storm,” you say, worriedly.

“Wanna race?” he asks, flashing that adorable grin again.

You laugh and dart off in front of him, before he catches up to you, grabbing you by the waist and tickling you to slow you down.

“Cheater!” you accuse, laughing loudly as you run after him, a smile taking over your whole face. A smile you hadn’t felt in such a long time.

Again...I'm a slow-burner! More spice and sibling love in chapter 3!

Go to Chapter 3

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#danny wagner gvf #danny wagner fic #danny wagner #danny gvf #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet #Spotify

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