edit by galaxyhs

"Hurry, Daddy!" Gracie calls out to Louis, running out of their house through the sliding door, little bare feet against the grass. Louis, body wracking with exhaustion from working that day, follows her at a pace that can only be described as sluggish. He smiles, though, and steps out onto the patio, the cool concrete making him shiver when it touches the bottoms of his feet.

The fireworks go off again. The people who live on the lake must be lighting them again, they seem to do that a lot, especially in the summertime. Gracie's eyes light up at the bright colours, and Louis smiles fondly, taking in her deep dimples and glimmering eyes. She's all Harry, every bit of her.

It's a bit past Gracie's bedtime. Louis knows that if Harry were to get home right now and see that she's still awake, Louis would get a very stern talking-to. Gracie's hair is still damp from the bath Louis had given her a half hour ago, her natural curls still forming, which gives Harry another thing to chastise Louis for–she could catch a cold.

The fireworks stop after a few moments, and Louis thinks he's safe from an argument with his husband, but then he sees the headlights pull into the driveway. Shit. "Okay, peanut," Louis says, voice going a bit soft when Gracie smiles up at him, still buzzing from the fireworks. "Time for bed."

Gracie's excited expression falters, but then she hears the car door open and close. "Papa's home," She gasps, turning and sprinting passed Louis to get inside. Louis sighs, but he can't wipe the adoring grin from his face.

"Papa!" Gracie exclaims as Harry walks in. Harry smiles tiredly, squatting down and wrapping his daughter up in his arms. Louis steps into the house, closing the sliding glass door of their kitchen. Harry stands up straight, but not before kissing the top of Gracie's head.

"I think it's a little past your bedtime, sweet girl," He points out, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Why don't you get on up to bed, and I'll come say goodnight in a minute?"

"Okay!" Gracie smiles, happy as ever. She rushes towards the stairs, and that's when Harry looks over at Louis, setting his keys down on the counter. He looks so tired. Louis supposes he must look the same. There's a furrow in Harry's eyebrows as he sighs.

"You know she has to get up for school tomorrow," Harry says, setting his laptop bag down near the door. He takes off his jacket, showing the button-up shirt he has worn to work that day.

"She wanted to see the fireworks," Louis says, sitting down at the kitchen table, mentally begging his husband to look at him with anything but disdain. Harry doesn't. "You didn't let her see them last time."

"One of us has to be responsible," Harry rebuts. His tone isn't snarky, though. It's flat. Louis frowns, rubbing the stubble right above his jaw.

"Hey," Louis says softly. Harry looks at him. "We missed you today."

Harry's face softens a little. Louis knew that would stop Harry from arguing with him, but he didn't just say it because of that. It's true. Harry works so much, Gracie misses him, and so does Louis.

"I missed you guys too," Harry says, his voice shaking a little with emotion. Louis stands up and approaches him, experimenting a little, trying to see what Harry will do. Harry leans into him, nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck. Louis smiles to himself, wrapping his arms around Harry. "I feel like she's grown since this morning."

"She won't stop," Louis runs his fingers through Harry's curls. "We've got to stop feeding her so many vegetables."

Harry giggles quietly into Louis' skin. Louis likes this, this quiet moment where they're not irritated and snippy. They stand there, together, under the warm yellow light of the kitchen.

"I wish I was around more often," Harry says sheepishly, standing up straight and leaning into the kitchen counter. He runs his hands over his face. "I'll try not to work this weekend. We can do something, all three of us."

Louis thinks, a lot of the time, that Harry isn't a workaholic. It's not in his blood to be one. He gets swept up in his perfectionism, his need to please people, and he works non-stop until that is achieved. Sometimes he just needs to be brought back down to the world, their world, where they're married with a beautiful little girl always asking why her Papa's always at work.

"That'd be nice," Louis hums. "And then maybe, after that, we can do something just...you and me."

Louis' smirk must portray to Harry what he has in mind. Harry doesn't look enthused. "Of course that's all you can think about," He mutters, walking passed Louis and towards the lounge to go upstairs.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Louis snaps, finished with trying to please Harry. "Sorry the idea of having sex with me is so underwhelming to you, Harry, but in case you've forgotten, we're married. I don't understand why you always look at me like I'm some stranger to you when I even talk about it."

"You've been looking at me like I'm a stranger for the past two years," Harry has stopped walking away, but his back is still to Louis. His voice sounds like he's on the verge of tears.

"I don't know you anymore," Louis means to sound a lot harsher, but he just sounds small, and vulnerable. He can hear Harry let out a shuddering sigh before continuing to walk away, up the stairs. Louis leans over the counter, putting his head in his hands and groaning softly to himself. How did they end up in this mess?

♛

They were young when they got married. Against Louis' mothers wary warnings about getting married young, they went through with it, and Harry was pregnant with Gracie just a few months later. Everything was so sweet and simple back then.

Louis thinks about this as he lays in bed, Harry's back to him. He stares out the window, into the back garden, and wonders how things turned out like this. He misses, especially, when Harry was pregnant. He remembers the day they found out, God, Harry had cried and cried, he was so fucking happy. Louis hasn't seen him that happy in so long, his chest aches when he thinks about it.

"Are you awake?" Louis hears Harry's soft voice, but he's still facing the other way. Louis can't help but smile to himself a little, and he doesn't even know why.

"Yes, love," He responds. "I'm awake."

"Do you still love me?"

Louis' heart breaks a little. He reaches down and tucks Harry's hair behind his ear. He can't help but notice that Harry flinches a little. "Yes, I still love you. 'Ve never stopped."

"We fight so much," Harry breathes out. "I get so angry all the time," Harry sits up and looks at Louis. Louis can only faintly see his face in the dull moonlight. "I'm not happy."

Louis' face falls. But now that he thinks about it, he can't remember the last time he was genuinely happy either. "I know you aren't, Harry."

"I don't..." Harry's breathing is heavy. "I don't know how much longer I can do this, Louis."

"Are you dumping me?" Louis asks, an amused smirk on his lips. But then Harry looks at him pointedly. "Wait..."

"I don't know what else to do," Harry whimpers. Every instinct of Louis' is telling him to comfort Harry right now, but his body is frozen. He just stares at Harry, waiting for him to offer something other than the possibility of them not being together anymore. But he doesn't. Harry just stands up out of the bed, wearing flannel pyjama pants and a jumper. Louis recalls a time Harry would always wear his clothes to bed. He can't remember the last time he's seen Harry in one of his shirts.

"What are you doing?" Louis asks dumbly.

"I can't stay here," Harry says. "Not right now."

"You're always running away from me," Louis gets up out of the bed too. "Every morning, and now this. Can you just slow down and realise everything you're ever going to need is right here? With your family?"

"I don't know what to do," Harry tugs at his hair frustratedly. Louis turns his lamp on, picking his glasses up off the bedside table and putting them on.

"Do you want me to make you a cuppa?" Louis asks. "And we can talk about it?"

"Talking about it isn't going to do anything," Harry points out, and yeah, Louis kind of knew that. He just would have liked to see Harry at their kitchen table, a cuppa in his hand, pouring his heart out to Louis in a soft, gentle voice. He can only dream. "We both go to work, and our daughter goes to school, and then you come home and spend time with her, and I get home once she's in bed and we fight."

"You fight," Louis corrects, sneering.

"Why am I always the bad guy?" Harry's face crumples, and he's quick to dip his head down. "I work hard and try to provide for our family. It's tiring. I'm not always in a good mood."

"You're never in a good mood!" Louis barks out a bitter laugh. "You're always snapping at me, making me feel like a bad husband and a bad father." Harry sniffles. "You used to be so happy. You used to make me breakfast in the mornings and ask me to sing to you at night." A flashback of Louis standing over Harry holding baby Gracie in a rocking chair crosses his hand. He's playing the guitar, singing a James Taylor song to her softly while she sleeps for the first time in days. Harry smiles up at Louis gratefully, his own eyelids drooping. "What changed you so much?"

"I grew up!" Harry exclaims, eyes teary. "I became an adult, Louis. You sit there and fantasise about...some domestic fantasy you have where we've got twenty kids and never have to work while I'm thinking of our daughter's future!"

"You talk like I don't do shit," Louis scoffs. "I have a job too, you know."

"You're right, I'm sorry," Harry says sarcastically, shaking his head and wiping his eyes. "You tell other people what to do for five hours and then go home. I'd hate to not have a real job. Might as well quit mine, since you seem pretty confident in the fact you could provide for our family yourself, yeah?"

Louis is taken aback. That was a low blow. "Fuck you," He seethes.

Harry's face softens. "No, Louis," He sighs. "I'm sorry."

"No," Louis laughs, angry. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry my parents didn't do everything for me and pay for university and raise you into the same asshole-pricks they are."

"Don't talk about my parents like that," Harry huffs. "My mum watches Gracie everyday. She does a lot for us."

"Because she's lonely," Louis points out. "Because her husband is never home. Sound familiar?"

"You're being a real cunt right now, you know that?" Harry growls, weeping. "So fucking immature."

"You're one to talk," Louis crosses his arms, trying his best not to show how much this fight is shaking him up inside.

"The only reason I'm regretting not staying home with Gracie more is because I don't want her to become classless and childish like you," Harry grits out, and Louis clenches his jaw.

"Leave Gracie out of this," Louis can't even express how angry he is right now. "The only thing wrong with her is that she's stuck with you for a father, you piece of shit."

"Daddy?"

Louis and Harry both look to see Gracie standing there, the five year old in her little cupcake patterned nightgown. "Why're you're bein' so mean, Daddy?" Gracie's bottom lip is trembling. She looks to Harry and holds her arms up, and Harry rushes to lift her up and hold her.

"Let's get you back to bed, princess," Harry says softly, sniffling and glaring at Louis before carrying her out of the room.