#wroetoshaw

Harry tells them very clearly. “Don’t go in the living room.”

He says it before filming starts, while everyone’s milling about and Ethan’s already trying to wind him up. He says it again when cameras are rolling, and people are scouting out hiding spots. 

“She’s knackered, she’s travelled, she’s not part of the video,” Harry insists, pointing vaguely down the hall. “Leave her alone.”

Naturally, that means the living room becomes the most attractive hiding spot in the house. 

You’re curled up on the sofa with one of Harry’s hoodies on – the soft grey one that smells like him – legs tucked underneath you, phone in hand, only half watching whatever’s on the telly. You can hear the chaos echoing through the house: drawers slamming, whispered arguments, Ethan laughing too loudly.

You smile to yourself. 

You haven’t seen Harry properly in weeks. Long-distance does that thing where it makes the mundane feel precious – sitting on his sofa, wearing his clothes, existing in the same space without a screen between you. 

The door creaks open. 

“Shh, shh, shh.” 

You look up just in time to see Simon, Ethan, and Tobi practically falling into the room, eyes wide and panicked. 

“What are you-” you start.

Ethan presses a finger to his lips. “Hide and seek.”

Simon grins. “We’ll be quiet.”

They absolutely will not be quiet. 

Before you can argue, they scatter – Simon crouches behind the armchair, Tobi squeezes himself awkwardly behind the curtains, and Ethan… Just lies flat on the floor behind the sofa like that’s a normal decision. 

You blink. “Harry said-”

“We know,” Simon whispers. “But we haven’t seen you in ages.”

As if summoned by your conversation, footsteps approach in the hallway.

Your heart jumps anyway. 

The door opens again, and Harry slips inside, closing it carefully behind him like he’s sneaking into a secret. 

“Hi,” he murmurs, instantly soft, eyes lighting up when he sees you. “You alright?”

You nod, smiling. “Yeah.”

He crosses the room in three long strides, dropping down beside you without a second thought. One arm curls around your shoulders, pulling you into his side like it’s muscle memory. 

He presses a kiss to your temple. Then another. Then one to your cheek.

Behind the sofa, Ethan bites his fist to stop the laughter. 

“You having fun?” Harry asks quietly, thumb brushing over your arm. 

“Mm”, you say. “Your mates are being loud.” 

He huffs a laugh. “Tell me about it.” 

Simon watches in disbelief as Harry leans in again, forehead resting against yours now, his voice dropping even softer. 

“I’ve missed you,” he says.

“I know,” you reply gently. “I missed you, too.”

Harry exhales, like he’s been holding that in all day. He kisses you properly this time – slow and familiar, like he’s grounding himself.

Tobi has to look away. 

Harry pulls back just enough to smile at you, nose brushing yours. “I’ll win this, you know.”

“You say that every time.”

“And I’m right every time.”

He grins, kisses you again, then finally – finally – stands up.

“I’ll come back,” he whispers, like a promise. 

The door clicks shut. 

The room explodes into silent hysteria. 

“Oh my god,” Simon breathes. “He didn’t see us.”

“He kissed her THREE TIMES,” Ethan whispers harshly. “I’m gonna be sick.”

Tobi shakes his head. “He’s got it bad.”

Two minutes pass with you chatting and catching up with the guys, then the door opens again. 

Harry slips back in like he forgot something. 

He goes straight to you again. 

“I forgot to ask,” he says softly, hand resting on your knee. “Do you want to get food after this?”

Simon squeezes his eyes shut. 

You laugh quietly. “Yes.”

“Cool,” Harry says, relieved. He leans down, kisses you once more – quick, sweet - then pauses. “One more.” 

He kisses you again.

Behind the armchair, Simon silently mouths this is ridiculous.

Harry finally straightens up, completely oblivious, and leaves the room. 

The second the door shuts, Ethan sits up. “I’m telling him.”

Simon snorts. “He’ll be mortified.”

Tobi smiles fondly. “Nah. He’s in love.”

When Harry eventually bursts back into the living room later, triumphant and smug- 

-and finds all three of them staring at him-

“You lot hid in here,” he realises slowly. 

Simon grins. “Yeah.”

Ethan adds, “You kissed her like four times.”

Harry freezes.

Then he groans, covering his face, “You’re joking.”

You laugh, tugging his sleeve until he drops back onto the sofa beside you. He wraps an arm around you immediately, burying his face in your hair. 

Chaos had well and truly commenced.

Round after round, drink after drink, mystery challenge after mystery challenge, nobody seemed capable of staying quiet for longer than five minutes.

Every few moments, another table would erupt into cheers or groans, followed almost immediately by someone insisting the game was rigged in their favour or against it.

Your team, somehow, was doing well.

Mostly because Tobi seemed to have developed an unnatural ability to spot numbers before they even properly registered on the screen.

The moment one appeared, he was already leaning forward.

“We’ve got that.”

“Tobi, this is getting ridiculous,” Becky laughed as she marked another square.

“I’m just efficient.”

“Of course, it’s literally thee TobJZL,” Pie added, though he was smiling into his drink.

Tobi sat back like he’d just been crowned champion of something far more important than bingo.

Across the room, another team erupted into cheers, followed instantly by loud, dramatic protests from somewhere else. The entire venue never really settled; it just shifted between different bursts of noise...

You found yourself smiling at it all without really thinking, resting your chin in your hand.

The drinks didn’t help.

Not in a way that made anything unclear or blurry.

Just in a way that made everything feel slightly softer at the edges. Easier to drift through. The loud voices around you started to blend into a warm, comfortable background track.

You took another slow sip of your drink, feeling the cool liquid hit your throat, and leaned back slightly in your chair.

Across the room, Harry’s table was in its usual state of controlled chaos.

George and Bach were deep in yet another argument about whether the system was “emotionally biased,” while Arthur looked like he had accepted that logic was no longer required for participation.

Harry was laughing through all of it.

He wasn't trying to steer the conversation. He wasn't really contributing to the argument.

He was just enjoying it—properly enjoying it—throwing his head back like the whole thing was the absolute best part of being there.

It made you smile before you even realised you were doing it, your gaze lingering on the way his eyes crinkled.

“Got it.”

Becky’s voice pulled you back as the sharp clack of the marker hit the table.

You blinked, shaking yourself out of the daze, and glanced down. “Already?”

“You were looking elsewhere,” she said simply, her eyes tracking the screen as she spoke, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

“I was multitasking.”

“Sure you were.”

Tobi didn’t even look up from the card, his finger tracing the grid. “We’re two numbers away.”

That pulled your attention back in properly. The competitive spark finally nudged its way through the alcohol.

For a while, you actually tried.

You followed the screen. The calls. The reactions around the table.

You leaned forward when everyone else did.

You marked things when Becky told you to.

It almost worked.

Almost.

But the room was too loud, too vibrant, to fully settle into. There were too many things happening at once, pulling at your senses.

A sudden shout from another table pulled your attention sideways.

A loud cheer from somewhere else followed it a second later.

Then laughter — Harry’s distinct, wheezing laugh echoing over the music. His table was briefly visible between people moving around the venue, a pocket of bright energy in the crowded room.

You didn’t turn fully this time.

Just caught it in passing.

Enough to register the sound.

Not enough to completely lose track of everything else on your own table.

Still, Becky noticed the half-second delay.

She didn’t comment immediately.

She just slid the pen back across the table, her fingers tapping a quiet rhythm against the wood, and continued watching the screen.

A few beats later, she glanced side-long at you again.

Not annoyed.

Just… noting it.

Like she’d quietly started keeping count of something else entirely.

Tobi marked another number off the card with a flourish.

“We’re actually flying through this,” he said, leaning back slightly in his chair like he was inspecting his own masterpiece.

 You laughed quietly, the sound muffled by the ambient noise of the room, your eyes still half-focused on the board.

For a moment, it almost felt like you were fully back in it.

Almost.

“Got it,” Becky said again, already reaching for the marker before Tobi even had a chance to react.

You blinked, looking between the card and her. “Wait—how are you both seeing these so fast?”

“We’re paying attention,” Tobi said, throwing a playful look your way.

“I am paying attention.”

Becky gave you a look, her eyebrows raised, without actually looking away from the screen.

“That’s not what I’m seeing.”

You frowned, shifting in your seat. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Tobi added lightly, his tone teasing, “you’ve got a delay.”

“I don’t have a delay.”

“You do,” Becky said simply.

“I don’t.”

A beat.

The neon lights pulsed overhead, casting long shadows across the table. Becky finally turned her head slightly toward you, letting her marker rest.

“You do a thing.”

“I don’t do a thing.”

“You do,” Tobi nodded, chiming in seamlessly. “It’s consistent.”

You narrowed your eyes at them, trying to look serious. “What thing?”

Becky didn’t answer straight away.

Instead, another number boomed through the speakers, and both of them reacted instantly, their eyes darting to the card.

You were a fraction slower.

Not enough to lose the point entirely.

Just enough for Becky to notice the hesitation again.

“There,” she said, marking it with a definitive click.

“I was literally right behind you.”

“Emotionally behind us too,” Tobi added with a grin.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s not a thing.”

“It is now,” Becky said.

You shook your head again, but you were smiling, the warmth of the room catching up to you.

Across the room, another massive burst of noise went up from the far tables.

Your head instinctively turned—

You caught yourself halfway.

Stopped.

Looked straight back at the card like you had just narrowly avoided a crime, staring hard at the little printed squares.

Too late.

Becky had already seen the movement out of the corner of her eye.

Tobi had too.

There was a long, deliberate pause at the table.

Then Tobi leaned back in his chair slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“I think we should start charging her for every time she looks over there.”

You gasped, your jaw dropping slightly. “Excuse me?”

Becky hummed in agreement, tapping her chin. “We could increase team funding. Buy another round.”

“I am right here,” you protested, looking between the two of them.

“You are,” Tobi agreed, his smile widening. “Just… intermittently.”

“I am fully present.”

Becky finally turned to look at you properly now, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand.

“Are you though?”

“Yes.”

A beat.

Another number was called out by the announcer.

You didn’t look this time. You kept your eyes glued to the center of the table.

You were proud of that.

Genuinely.

Until Tobi spoke again, his voice dropping to a casual, conversational whisper.

“Harry’s laughing again.”

Immediately, your head turned.

Instantly.

Without permission from your brain.

There was a sudden, heavy silence at your table.

You froze, your eyes locking onto Harry's table for a split second before you realized what you'd done.

Slowly, you turned your head back around.

Becky was already smiling, holding back a laugh.

Tobi was biting his lip, trying desperately not to break.

You stared at them, your cheeks warming up under the pink lights.

“…That doesn’t count.”

Becky tilted her head, her smile spreading. “It absolutely counts.”

“It was informational,” Tobi added helpfully.

“I hate both of you.”

Becky reached for her drink, finally letting the full smile show now as she lifted the glass to her lips.

“We’re just saying,” she said lightly, the ice clinking softly against the glass, “you’ve got very fast reaction times…”

Another number flashed up on the big screens.

Becky marked it instantly, her hand moving without hesitation. Tobi followed a second later with a nod, checking it off his own mental tracker.

You leaned forward slightly, resting your hands on the sticky wood of the table, already trying to refocus your attention when the loud announcement suddenly cut through the room.

“Right — mystery challenge!”

The entire venue shifted at once, a collective wave of movement and chatter rising as the neon lights began to pulse a deeper shade of purple.

Becky turned to you immediately. Her expression changed, turning less focused on the card and more on you as a slow grin spread across her face.

“Ooo, go on then.”

You blinked, pointing a finger at your own chest. “Me?”

“Yes,” she said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Tobi nodded from across the table, leaning back in his chair. “You should go.”

“I should?”

“Yeah,” Becky said, already smiling. “You’ll be good at it.”

You hesitated, looking at the marker still in your hand. “Based on what exactly?”

“Vibes,” Tobi replied.

“That’s not a qualification.”

“It is here,” Becky said, shifting in her seat and standing slightly now to give you room.

Across the table, Pie gave a lazy thumbs up, his eyes crinkling as he took a sip of his drink. “Go on. Represent us.”

You looked between all of them, completely outnumbered. “You’re all just sending me up there?”

Becky laughed softly, the sound almost lost to the bass of the room. “We’re not sending you. We’re encouraging you.”

“That is the same thing.”

“No it isn’t,” Tobi said.

“It is emotionally,” you muttered.

Becky leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was letting you in on a secret over the roar of the crowd. “Honestly, it’s perfect timing. You’ve been way too locked in on the wrong things anyway.”

“I have not.”

“You have,” she said gently, her eyes darting briefly toward the other side of the room before she smiled back at you. “Go. Have fun with it.”

Tobi pointed a finger toward the front of the venue where a small crowd of people was already starting to line up by the stage. “Plus it’ll be chaos. You’ll like it.”

You hesitated for a second longer, the pink neon light catching the edge of your glass. Then the noise of the room rose again — laughter, movement, chairs shifting against the floorboards, people calling out to each other as they got up. And somehow, that decided it.

“…Fine.”

Becky immediately lit up. “Yes.”

Tobi nodded approvingly, crossing his arms. “Good choice.”

Pie clapped once, a short, sharp sound. “Proud of you.”

You stood up, still half-protesting under your breath, but already being gently waved forward by the encouraging hands of your own table.

“I hate you all.”

But you were already walking forward, joining the rest of the selected players weaving through the crowded gaps between the tables. And as you moved through the shifting crowd toward the front—

Your attention flickered, just for a second, across the room.

Harry was already right there among the rest of the group on stage — just another person caught up in the same chaos, like this was completely normal.

And somehow, that made it easier.

“Hi,” you said, almost under your breath as you stepped closer.

Harry turned immediately. A grin appeared on his face the second he saw you, looking like nothing about this was unusual at all. “Hello.”

You didn’t even think about it before closing the small gap between you. The hug was quick — natural, easy. One arm each, a brief squeeze, like it was just something that happened without needing permission.

“Well look who decided to participate,” he said as you pulled back slightly, his hand lingering for a fraction of a second.

“I didn’t choose to,” you replied immediately.

“Sure.”

“I didn’t.”

“I believe you,” he said, not sounding like he did at all.

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. Around you, the rest of the group was shifting into place, laughing, talking, settling into that familiar pre-challenge chaos. Before either of you could add anything else, Simon’s voice cut through the room.

“Right — listen up everyone!”

Neither of you fully let go straight away. You stayed in that half-second of contact, still half-facing each other, while the room slowly shifted into attention around you. Simon continued explaining the rules, gesturing as he spoke about a rock paper scissors tournament. Fast rounds. Immediate elimination. Simple enough that everyone was already nodding along.

Still half in the hug, Harry glanced toward the front. “This is going to be chaos.”

“It always is,” you said.

A small laugh left him. Only then did the two of you properly separate — not abruptly, just naturally as attention tightened across the stage.

You barely had time to settle before Simon was already speaking again. “Right — everyone pick someone. Rock paper scissors. Winners move on.”

The stage erupted instantly. Fast rounds, loud reactions, and people dropping out almost as quickly as they stepped forward. It stopped feeling like separate matches after a while, narrowing down exactly how everyone expected it to until it was obvious, even before Simon said it over the microphone.

“Right,” Simon sighed, looking between the two of you. “Of course it’s you two.”

The room erupted immediately. You let out a small laugh, turning slightly to find Harry already looking at you, still smiling.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Unfortunately.”

Simon raised a hand, and the noise dipped just slightly — enough for the moment to land. You stepped forward, Harry did too, and the rest of the stage blurred into background noise. Just the two of you now.

"Rock. Paper. Scissors."

Instant. You played. A beat.

Then—"I win!"

The room exploded. Harry immediately laughed, shaking his head as he stepped back. "Course you do," he said, the defeat fading into a proud, effortless smile as he looked at you.

You blinked, staring down at your own hand like the reality hadn't fully caught up yet. "...I actually won that."

"Yeah," he nodded, stepping closer to nudge your shoulder playfully. "You did."

Simon pointed a finger toward you through the roaring noise, his voice booming over the microphone. "Right—your team gets to pick a number!"

You caught Becky’s frantic signaling from across the room and called out, "Number Fifty-eight!"

The venue reacted immediately with a massive wave of cheers, groans, and shouts of disbelief. And then—

"HIJINGO!"

Your table erupted into absolute madness. Becky's voice sliced clean through the ambient noise even from a distance, screaming, "I KNEW SHE'D GET IT!" while Tobi threw his hands up, laughing hysterically at the sheer luck of it all.

On stage, Harry looked down at you, his eyes crinkling. "Not bad."

You gave him a small, satisfied look, soaking in the high. "Obviously."

Before heading back down, Harry gave your arm a quick, affectionate squeeze—a private beat of warmth amidst the loud chaos—before you both parted ways to return to your respective sides. You practically floated back to your table, met with high-fives from Pie and triumphant cheering from Becky and Tobi. For a couple of rounds, the adrenaline kept you completely locked into the cards, matching Tobi's hyper-focus number for number.

But the peak of the excitement eventually began to cool.

As the next few rounds ticked by, the game slowly settled back into its usual, rhythmic chaos. Numbers continued to be called, teams celebrated, and George—predictably—resumed his ongoing, passionate argument that the entire venue had a personal vendetta against him.

And that was when your attention, warm and slightly fuzzy from the drinks, began to drift across the room again.

Somewhere along the way, you completely stopped making a conscious effort to stay at your own table.

At first, Becky had been strict about it. She had marched over, physically guided you back by the shoulders, and reminded you that they still had a game to win. You had sat down, taken an obedient sip of your drink, and stared hard at the card. But the alcohol was making the room feel too warm, and Harry's table had a gravitational pull you couldn't fight. Less than ten minutes later, you had drifted right back.

This time, Becky didn't follow. Across the room, you caught her catching Tobi’s eye, pointing a finger at your empty chair, and dramatically dropping her head into her hands. They had officially given up on you.

Completely liberated, you stepped up right behind Harry’s chair, letting one hand settle absent-mindedly onto his shoulder.

Harry didn’t even look up, completely unfazed by your sudden reappearance. Arthur was in the middle of a sentence, George was still complaining, and the game roared on around you, but Harry’s hand instantly lifted from the table. Without a word, his fingers slipped between yours, locking your hands together like muscle memory.

To be fair, the boys had seen this happen countless times. Whenever the group went out drinking, there always came a point in the night where you became significantly more attached to Harry’s side than your own.

You stood there for a few minutes, contentedly swaying to the music, before gently nudging his shoulder. "Harry."

He finally looked up, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Hm?"

You looked at him, then eyed the crowded, occupied chairs around the table, and then looked back down at him with a sleepy pout. "Can I sit here?"

A soft smile immediately tugged at his lips. "Yeah, sure baby."

Harry gave your hand a small tug, guiding you down until you settled comfortably onto his lap. His free arm wrapped naturally around your waist, your legs sideways across his lap. 

"Comfortable?" he murmured against your hair.

You hummed happily, resting your head on his chest. "Very."

"Good."

And that was that. Across the venue, Becky slowly lowered her glass, watching you completely dissolve into George's latest dramatic story. She nudged Tobi, pointing with her chin, before gesturing to Pie—who was currently engaged in a very passionate conversation that seemed to be making perfect sense to him and absolutely nobody else.

"Yeah," Tobi laughed, taking a sip of his own drink as Pie joined in on a random cheer across the room. "She's gone, and he's completely tuned out. We're the only two left."

Across the room, the game had officially become background noise—at least for you. George was already in the middle of another joke, fully committed to a bit that seemed to get more ridiculous every time he opened his mouth. Arthur was laughing, Bach was laughing, and unfortunately, so were you.

“You cannot seriously think that’s true,” Arthur said through a laugh.

“It is true.”

“It’s literally not.”

“It absolutely is.”

George looked around the table like he was expecting support. Your hand immediately shot up. “I agree with George.”

“Thank you,” George said instantly.

Harry looked up briefly. “You don’t even know what he’s talking about.”

“Don’t need to.”

“That’s concerning.”

You pointed at George. “He’s got conviction.”

“Exactly!” George said.

Arthur laughed harder. Harry just shook his head before looking back down at the card in front of him.

One hand resting on the table. The other still loosely wrapped around your waist. Not because he was paying particular attention to it. Just because at some point you’d ended up there and neither of you had thought to move.

“You are encouraging him,” Harry informed you.

“I think he’s funny.”

“He already knows that.”

“Good.”

George looked delighted. Harry looked significantly less delighted. You grinned before settling further against his chest.

For a moment, Harry glanced down at you. Then at the nearly forgotten card in front of him. Then back at you.

“You’re supposed to be helping your own team, you know.”

You tilted your head. “My team seems fine.”

Harry snorted. “Right.”

And despite the fact that George was still talking, Arthur was still laughing, and numbers were still being called somewhere in the background—

Neither of you moved.

A few moments later, another drink appeared on the table.

Your eyes immediately lit up.

Harry noticed.

Unfortunately.

The second your hand reached for it, his got there first. His fingers closed around the glass before you could even touch it.

"Harry."

"No."

You stared at him. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I do."

"You don't."

"I absolutely do."

You frowned. He looked entirely unconvinced.

Without another word, he slid the drink slightly further away, out of your reach, before reaching for the glass of water beside him. The one that had been sitting there mostly untouched for the last hour.

"Drink."

You looked down at it. Then back at him. Then back at the water.

"You're no fun."

"Drink."

Arthur laughed. George pointed at Harry immediately. "He's doing that thing."

"What thing?" you asked.

"The protective boyfriend thing."

"I am not," Harry said.

"You are."

"I'm literally not."

Bach was already laughing. Meanwhile, Harry simply continued holding the glass of water out towards you. Waiting. Patiently. Like he already knew how this was ending.

With a dramatic sigh, you finally took it from his hand.

"There we go."

You narrowed your eyes, taking a slow sip. Harry looked entirely too pleased with himself.

Satisfied, he returned his attention back to the card in front of him. One hand resting on the table. The other found its way back around your waist without a second thought.

The game carried on around you. Numbers continued being called. Teams continued celebrating and complaining in equal measure.

Although he’s busy, he tries his hardest to make that time for you. He adores you, he worships the ground you walk on, you are his everything and more (if that’s even possible). Even if they’re small things or just staying at home, he finds a way to spend alone time with you. He loves going on long walks with you, laying in bed together with some dumb flick on just so he can hold you in his arms, and he will always cook for you.

One of his favorite things recently has been finding new recipes and trying them out with you. He’s actually quite the chef and you absolutely adore this about him.

But, as of recently, you can tell he has been very stressed out. He is much busier these days with the upcoming Thailand trip and the constant prerecording for every single Sidemen channel as well as side plus. Hell, the charity match was just about the straw that broke the camel's back. Now you find him up most nights planning and even recording at least some kind of content.

At this point, he's barely living. The reality is, the only thing grounding him back to some sense of normalcy is you.

So when your friends invited you out for drinks, you begged him to go. Eventually he agreed but that wasn’t without putting up a fight and for you to agree to some other kind of alone time activities later (which you had no problem with at all).

The night had been going along well, you were having a great time- laughing with friends, drinking delicious, fruity drinks, dancing and singing your little heart out.

It was all great until you noticed just how much the stress had gotten to Harry. You noticed how much he had been drinking all night. Of course, he loves a good bev every now and then but he was throwing them back like nothing along with random shots all night.

His cheeks were red, his messy hair was even messier, his shirt was sopping wet somehow- he was absolutely battered. You were getting worried, you didn't want to boss him around and you know he deserves a night out but this was going to get out of hand really fast.

He just finished his eighth pint, his eyes were bloodshot red, his speech was slurred, he could barely stand upright.

“I think that's enough now bog.” Ethan began, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder which he shoved off aggressively.

“Nah mate, I've just started to relax. Get off my back.” He responded with a tone of annoyance and anger. Ethan exchanged a look with you, one filled with concern. You nodded knowing that you were going to have to do something.

“Honey, I think we should go back home now.” You said delicately snaking an arm around his neck.

“Darling, come here.” Harry slurred patting his lap. You hesitated for a moment but sat down anyways. He rested his head in the crook of your neck wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you back into him.

“You're the most precious thing in the world to me, my sweet. I don't think I could do this without you.” He drunkenly whispered in your ear. “Please let me have just one more pint my love.” His tone was soft, delicate. The way he talks to only you as if you were a dandelion that would blow away with one swift gust of wind.

You dropped your shoulders in defeat as you nodded.

“Okay Harry, just one.”

The night dragged on, at some point you grew distracted by the enjoyment of being out with good company that you forgot to ‘watch’ Harry.

“Mate I'm not gonna lie, you need to act your age and settle down already.” You overheard Harry say. You looked over to see a not so happy Chris and a blabbering Harry.

“Bog.” You heard Ethan warn.

“What!? It's the truth. At least you've settled down, she's a bit-”

“Harry, don't.” Ethan warned again, trying to stop Harry from saying something he'd regret, this time with a more authoritative and threatening tone.

You knew he was about to say something negative about Ethan's relationship. You knew this was the time to end the night here.

Harry was wasted and when he gets like this, he gets mean, he will say things that cut deep. You've only seen him like this once before but you've been warned about a hundred times.

You walked up next to him lightly tugging at the side of his jumper. His cocky, determined expression dropped quickly at the sight of you. His eyes softened and you saw his body relax.

“You alright princess?” He asked quietly wrapping a protective arm around you. “Can we go home please, I'm tired.” You lied.

“Of course love, whatever you need.” He said placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. He smelled of beer and vodka and you could tell he was clammy under his hoodie.

“Right lads, we're heading out. Let's do this again soon!” He announced to your party. Everyone said bye to him enthusiastically but gave you a look of gratitude. You threw them a warm, apologetic smile as you walked out of the pub with Harry's arm still wrapped around your shoulder.

The ride home was quiet. He was falling asleep, his head dipping down then up when he would startle awake. Finally you reached around and placed his head on your shoulder, immediately making him comfortable.

He wasn't fully asleep but he was a few seconds from it.

“I love you darling. You're my everything.” He mumbled sleepily, your delightful scent making him snuggle deeper into your body.

“I love you too bog. I wouldn't trade you for anything.” You replied quietly, placing the palm of your hand on his cheek.

The flat was quiet, the soft sound of dragging footsteps and the light hum of the fridge were the only noises heard.

You pulled Harry into bed, pulling off his trousers and hoodie, getting him as comfortable as you can. You placed a fluffy pillow under his head and pulled the duvet partially over his body.

You did your own nighttime routine before joining him.

You looked over at him as you slipped under the covers. He looked so peaceful now, a stark contrast from an hour and a half ago.

His mouth was slightly open, his cheeks were still flushed red, his hair was matted down against his forehead.

He wasn't perfect but neither were you. You absolutely would never trade him for anything else in the world.

Both yours and Harry’s schedule could often get crazy, but you tried to make sure one of you was always free for Mabel. Today had ended up being one of the very few days where you had no other choice but to get a babysitter, but you were quickly reminded why you tried to never do so. 

You didn’t normally show up to Sidemen shoots unannounced, but it was a last minute move of desperation. Your babysitter had cancelled at the very last second and you were supposed to be going to some sort of fancy event for your work. You were all done up and ready only to be facing the possibility of not being able to go. To say you were disappointed was an understatement. 

But surely Harry could take her for a bit, even if it was to leave her behind the scenes with someone she knows. You were going to have to briefly wave your rule of keeping her hidden on this one occasion.

At least the shoot was outside. Some kind of big BBQ thing that would give her the chance to run around in the fresh air– if she was allowed to stay. You were 90% sure that no one would have an issue with her being here, but you were trying to come up with a plan b on the off chance you were turned down. 

It took you a minute to spot Harry laughing with Ethan. There were more people here than you anticipated. You waved when you locked eyes with the redhead. 

“Mrs Wroetoshaw’s here. Are you in trouble, mate?” Ethan poked. 

Harry swatted at his friend’s hand, though he couldn’t deny he did get a little bit nervous seeing you walk towards him with your daughter in your arms. The back of his neck was already coming up red at the thought of him being in trouble. “I don’t think so. I hope not.”

The smile on his face when you finally came to a stop in front of him was clearly nervous. “You look nice,” he commented, opening his arm to greet you both in a hug. Maybe if he started off with compliments, you wouldn’t scold him so harshly when you inevitably told him what he’d done wrong. “I thought you had an event thing?” 

“Babysitter cancelled. I was hoping you could take her while I’m out. It’s fine if you can’t, I know you’re busy and I really didn’t want to just show up like this, but I was out of options and–” 

“Breathe.” 

Mabel had begun squirming in your arms, eager to get to her dad, despite having only seen him a couple hours ago before he left. He was more than happy to take her from you, placing a loud kiss to her cheek. She bubbled with laughter, the sound making you feel a little bit lighter about the whole situation. 

“I’ll take her. There’s plenty of stuff for her to do around here, and I’m sure uncle Arthur has plenty of stories to tell her. You go have fun.” 

Your entire body sagged with relief. You didn’t know why you had so little faith in him– he rarely ever let you down before. “Are you sure? 

He placed his hand on your arm, squeezing gently with the softest smile you think you’d ever seen. “Stop stressing. It’s fine.” He turned to the toddler in his arms, lightly poking her cheek to hear the way she laughed. “We’ll have lots of fun, won’t we?” 

You let out a breath, nodding your head. You could stop panicking now. “Thank you.” 

He laughed. He was her dad, this is what he was supposed to do. “What are you thanking me for? Stop being silly.” In a move you didn’t expect, considering all the eyes around you, he leaned in and stole a quick kiss. “Now go have fun at your fancy thing. Leave us to it.” 

The first thing Mabel wanted to do when she was given free roam was eat– definitely her father’s daughter. The burgers she could smell looked appetising, although Harry checked at  least 3 times that they were properly cooked before he started feeding pieces to her. The last thing he needed was for one of his mates to accidentally poison his child. You would never let that go if that happened on his watch.

She hummed happily as she ate her small bites of burger, ignoring most of what was going on around her in favour of watching her uncle Ethan trying not to wipe out on the mechanical bull. Like a true masochist, she couldn’t help but laugh loudly every time he fell off. 

The music from the ice cream van quickly distracted her. The rest of her food was abandoned in Harry’s lap. Now all she could think about was the possibility of an ice cream. She knew she needed to put on her best puppy dog eyes if she stood any chance of getting herself a sugary treat. 

“What you pouting at?” 

She looked in the direction of the van and then back at Harry. 

He was shocked that such a tiny girl could eat so much. “You want ice cream as well?” He didn’t know if it was worth risking the inevitable belly ache when she ate it too quickly. Today would be a long day and he didn’t want to have to take her home halfway through. 

“Yes!” 

He shook his head. “In a bit, babe. After your dinner’s settled.” 

She whined, crossing her arms over her chest with a frown. No doubt she would have stamped her little foot if she was standing up. Usually that look would work on Harry. He was a big pile of mush for his little angel daughter, and she knew she could normally get anything she wanted from him as long as she flashed those puppy dog eyes. 

“Why don’t we get your face painted first and then you can have some after?”

“Ice cream first.” 

“Mae, no.” 

This time he was going to keep standing his ground. Which would have been a lot easier if his friends didn’t keep stirring the pot. 

Cal came wandering over with a big grin, eager to see his favourite niece. She briefly lit up at the sight of him, before seemingly remembering she was supposed to be throwing a low level tantrum. “Is your dad being mean, Mayday?” 

Harry shot him a glare, seconds away from telling him to fuck off while he handled things. That wouldn’t go down well with you if it made it into the video. 

“She’s mad because I told her she’s got to wait to have some ice cream.”

Cal booed loudly. “Let the girl have some ice cream.”

“Yeah!” 

“No! It’ll be me that has to deal with your whining when you’ve got a tummy ache.” 

Seeing as that would be none of Cal’s business, he scooped her up off the beanbag she was perched on and started heading towards the van. “I’ll get you some ice cream, little Wroetoshaw, don’t you worry.”

She cheered, sticking her tongue out at her dad as he sat in the same spot in disbelief. How could he be the adult in charge and somehow still end up with no authority? He could picture it now, the way you were going to laugh watching this video as his friends walked all over him and gave Mabel the princess treatment. You would definitely appreciate him trying to be a responsible parent, but you were definitely still going to find it hilarious. 

He didn’t see Mabel again until he stumbled on her at the fruit machine with George, the man crouched down to her height while she listened intently to the rules he was trying to explain to her. She didn’t understand a thing he was saying, but she nodded along like it all made sense. 

“Are you teaching my 3 year old how to gamble?”

It was absolutely what he was doing, but George scoffed anyway, shaking his head. In all honesty he hadn’t really thought about that part. Although was it really gambling if there was no money on the line, and it was just a Sidemen video? “Course not. I’m teaching her instincts, Harold. If she happens to win in this gambling-adjacent game, that’s just a bonus.” 

“As long as you know that if she wins big, as her dad I’m legally allowed to take half.” 

“Daddy, no!” 

No one ever needed to know if the 3 holding the fruit actually conspired to get her a win. But they definitely did. She didn’t care, she was just happy to win. And she definitely wasn’t going to share her winnings with her dad– that brownie was just for her, and maybe a little bit for mummy if she was feeling nice. 

Seeing everyone get into the tiny paddling pool made Mabel jealous. Even her dad was in there, and yet she was forced to sit on the side while everyone had fun without her. 

He tried to make her laugh, hating to see the pout on her face again. When nothing worked he felt a little dejected, frowning along with her. “What’s up, Mae?”

“Swim.” 

He shook his head. “You can’t go swimming, kid. You’ve got no spare clothes and mummy will have my head if I bring you home shivering.” 

She wasn’t really listening to a word he was saying. The moment he turned away she was going to find someone else that would let her go swimming. When she set her mind to something, no matter what it was, she found a way to do it. That was the stubbornness she’d inherited from both of you. 

With a huff, she seemingly accepted his no this time, then wandered away to find someone that would entertain her wishes. She knew exactly who she was looking for. And luckily for her, he was pretty easy to spot. 

“Alfie!” 

He was surprised at the little voice calling his name. On the few occasions that he’d met baby Wroetoshaw the two seemed to bond rather quickly. Maybe it was because Alfie had a similar mental age to her actual age, or maybe he was just one of those people that was surprisingly good with kids. Whatever it was, she had grown fairly attached to him pretty quickly. 

“What’s up, girl?” 

“Swim!” 

“You want to go swimming?” 

She nodded, reaching her arms up to signal she wanted picking up. Alfie complied, carrying her back in the direction she’d just toddled over from. In the time it had taken her to find her friend, Harry had momentarily disappeared from the water, heading off to grab another drink. Which gave Mabel ample time to put her plan into place. If her dad wasn’t there, he obviously couldn’t stop her. 

“Do you need help getting your shoes off?”

The sparkly pink crocs on Mabel’s feet were her prized possessions. There was no way she was going to risk getting them wet and possibly damaging them. But she was a big girl, she didn’t need an adult's help to get them off her feet. She wasn’t 2 anymore. 

She managed to fling them off before Alfie had time to wait for an answer. He could tell she was eager to finally get a dip in the pool. 

It didn’t even cross Alfie’s mind that the water would be much deeper for her little legs. The moment he set her down in the pool, the water drenched her entire dress, almost covering the bottom half of her face. The man hissed, praying that his slip up hadn’t been caught on camera. He yanked her back up just as quickly as he put her down. 

Thankfully, she didn’t cry, just let out a few quiet laughs. “Again.”

Harry showed back up before he could do so. Mabel knew she’d been caught red handed, doing the very thing her dad told her she couldn’t do. The moment he set his hands on his hips, she knew she was in trouble. 

“What did I say?”

She shrugged, hoping the cuteness of her face could get her off with less than a warning. In her eyes he was being very mean today. 

He couldn’t stay mad at her. He hadn’t figured out that skill yet. He let out a long sigh– his patience was usually a lot thinner than this. “You want to get me in trouble with your mum, don’t you?” He turned to Alfie next, who looked pretty sheepish. “And you need to stop encouraging her.” 

He raised his hands in his defence. “Sorry, dad.” 

If he didn’t have a child to dry off before she froze, Harry absolutely would have made Alfie pay for giving him extra work. Sometimes it felt like he wasn’t just parenting his kid, but all of his friends too. For grown adults they could all be pretty stupid sometimes. 

Harry wrapped Mabel up in a fluffy towel, the girl giggling as he trapped her arms by her side and picked her up. It wasn’t doing much considering her dress was soaked through as well, but combined with the sun she would dry out in no time. At least this way she was kept warm and cosy. 

“Why don’t we go get your face painted, yeah?” That might keep her out of trouble for a bit. 

“You too, daddy.”

“Me too?” 

That wasn’t in the plans, but if it kept her from crying then he didn’t see the harm in it. It was those puppy dog eyes once again that resulted in him having his face painted like a cat. His friends were definitely going to take the piss, but it was worth it to see the way Mabel’s eyes lit up. 

He sat the toddler on his knee, still restrained in the towel, but more than content to relax in her dad’s arms. He just needed her to sit still so the woman could work. 

It was easy for Harry to forget who he was talking to when he told her to sit still. Not only was she a toddler, who found it difficult to keep focus on anything for longer than 5 minutes, but she was also his daughter. Even at his big age he couldn’t sit still for very long. It was a losing battle for her really. 

After a couple breaks and more than enough reminders to keep her head still from Harry, she was pretty happy with the results. 

A tiger wouldn’t have been Harry’s first choice. He could have guaranteed you would have liked to see her with something like a butterfly on her face, but she thought that was boring. It was this or something similar to the travesty that had ended up on George’s face.

“Let’s see, Mae.” 

She turned to him and bared her teeth, making a small growling noise that made his heart soar. He would have laughed if she wasn’t trying to genuinely be scary. 

“Oh, wow, scary.” He slipped his phone from his pocket. “Shall we take a picture for mummy?” 

Her head nodded rapidly and she posed for his camera. He grinned. You were going to love that. After a couple more, where she insisted he get in it as well, he sent them off to you for your approval. Although, he wasn’t counting on a quick response. 

After some more running around and a terrible attempt at kicking the football into the goal, which no one would believe considering the cheers that erupted when Arthur ‘missed’ the save, Mabel was ready to crash. Too much sugar and plenty of running around would do that to a small child. 

By the time Harry made it home with a completely passed out 3 year old in his arms, you were already home and changed into your comfier clothes. 

The sight of your favourite people coming through the door made you smile, despite the fact you were ready to crash yourself. You didn’t know how you found the energy to get up off the sofa to greet them, but it was worth it to see your baby girl in her dad’s arms. 

“She looks like she had a good day,” you whispered, lightly brushing your hand over her messy pigtails. You couldn’t help the smile on your face at how sweet she looked like this. She no doubt had been a terror for her dad all day, but at least she was calm now, with her orange striped face and slightly damp curls. You would ask about that later.

He nodded. “Oh, she has. She’s been spoiled, that’s for sure.”