No Strings Attached

Chapter Nine

In his frenzy, Louis tripped on a plastic toy near the kitchen that he had overlooked. Rosie looked on observantly, ignoring the muted television program, her giant blue orbs following her father’s movements as he stumbled in and out of the living room. He was intent on gathering all of Rosie’s toys – which amounted to a considerable boon piled in the center of the floor – in preparation for the next seven hours she would be spending with someone she had never met before.

“It’d be nice if you could help, you know,” Louis teased as he shot back out of Rosie’s bedroom with a purple stuffed bear. “Rather than just sitting there, bug.” 

Realizing her attention was being called, Rosie perked up from where she had been sleepily reclining on the couch. She smacked her hands together, a throaty yet joyful noise bursting from her mouth. 

“Bug!” 

Louis set the bear atop the growing pile and rolled his eyes at his little girl, who was now giggling at something else that had caught her attention on the muted television. He hadn’t planned on waking her up earlier than usual, but it was eight in the morning when he realized he couldn’t fall asleep anymore. So he poked her gently in her crib, lulling her out of slumber. She fussed for only a few moments before Louis picked her up and pressed gentle snorting noises against her belly with his mouth, and she squealed herself into full consciousness. This way, Louis reasoned, she would be tired and hopefully nap the majority of her time with Harry. He didn’t want to subject either of them to longer bouts of inevitable awkwardness.

Louis didn’t know what was wrong with himself. He had never been this nervous before introducing Rosie to a new sitter. Granted, he only ever used the same two since Rosie was born, but it was easier then than it was now. It shouldn’t have been this way, since he knew Harry and knew how kind he could be. Sure, he had never seen him interact with children, but he never gave the impression that he would be harsh or uncaring or anything that would ever make Louis doubt him. Plus, Rosie was generally a very affable child, very accepting of most people that came into her life.  

And she’s only a seventeen-month-old, Louis mused silently. The need to impress was low, if nonexistent. 

With a heavy sigh, he finally collapsed on the couch next to Rosie, who instantly clambered into his lap and lightly tugged at his hair with one fist and his shirt with the other as she gathered her bearings. She leaned up and placed a wet kiss on Louis’ cheek, leaving the spot warm with love and affection as she backed away with her typical lilting laughter. 

“Daddy sad,” she said with bright, inquisitive eyes. 

Louis’ breath hitched. That was the first time she had ever said ‘daddy’ in its full form. Usually, it had been ‘da’ or ‘dada’ or something equally stuttered yet endearing. The magnitude of the moment hit Louis square in the chest and he realized that he hadn’t been paying attention to the very simple yet obvious fact that his little girl was growing up. Maybe she wasn’t composing speeches or writing poetry just yet, but he suddenly arrived at the conclusion that things were moving faster than he ever expected them to.  

Repressing the overwhelming sense of sentimentality that threatened to pull him apart, Louis breathed deeply and wrapped his arms tightly around his little girl, pressing light kisses to her feathery head.

“Daddy’s not sad, bug.” 

“Want toys?” 

He laughed, blinking away the irrational mistiness that worked its way to his eyes. She held his face soothingly and Louis wondered if anyone else in the world would ever be able to make him feel this loved, this wanted.