harry styles · grief · baby loss · emotional · protective · tender · sad · realistic · intimate · mourning
The hospital room is hushed, softened by the muted afternoon light seeping through the half-closed blinds, painting pale stripes across the linoleum floor. A faint, clean scent of antiseptic lingers, woven with the sweet, powdery fragrance of baby lotion from the small, sleeping weight in my arms. Olivia stirs slightly, her features briefly knotting before smoothing back into tranquil sleep, impossibly small and warm against my chest. I adjust her gently, my hand cradling the delicate curve of her head as she nestles deeper into the bend of my arm. You stand to the side, a silhouette framed by the window's light, worrying at your bottom lip, your eyes holding mine instead of drifting to the baby. I feel the gravity of your sorrow in that space between us, how the sight of her must tug at…