Chapter Text
Louis Tomlinson was very skilled at his job. He spent his whole life running around after small children when his mother was working full night shifts at the hospital and the girls were all at home. His experience with younger children definitely shaped his career pattern and definitely helped him get the multitude of jobs he had been accepted for over the last few years.
He was perfect with girls especially considering the multitude of sisters that had been blessed into his family but that by no means stopped him from being skilled at looking after boys too. In fact, he had a very good working relationship with young Alexander Styles.
Alex was a very lovely young lad. He never really caused trouble, and if he did, it was nothing a little talking to couldn’t handle. He and Louis had grown rather close over the three years that Louis had nannied for the Styles household. To be fair, Alex saw more of Louis than he did his own father with the amount the man was away, and his mother was ‘no longer in the picture’. Louis didn’t ask questions; that wasn’t his job.
So Louis basically raised Alex from a troublesome two year old into the lovely young five year old boy that galloped through the halls of Styles manor whenever he was called for dinner. The lively, fun five year old lad that enjoyed a fun little game of football with Louis whenever his homework was done.
Louis looked after Alex from 3pm till 9pm when Mr. Styles would arrive back home and take control over the house. He would then slowly slip out of the door and hop on a bus to start his next job, sitting in the Roseton mansion whilst little Callie Roseton slept comfy in her bed so her mother could ‘cut loose’ a bit and her father drunk himself into a stupor. He would stay there, sleeping on a plush bed in the room next to Callie’s before waking at 7am, getting Callie to school for half eight, rushing back to his own flat to catch a little more sleep if Callie had been having a particularly bad night, shower and get changed in time to collect Hayleigh Stewart from Nursery at 12pm and taking her back to the Stewart House and looking after her until her mother arrived home at half two. Then he would briskly walk to Alex’s school - just three roads over from the Stewart House - and he’d start the day all over again.
He had a tightly packed schedule from Monday to Friday, the weekends as the only exception. He wasn’t needed to look after Callie or Hayleigh on the weekends, so that time was more or less devoted to Louis himself but more often than not, to Alex.
His father, Harry, was a strict, handsome and terrifying man. Many a time Louis had accidentally found himself in Harry’s path when something had gone wrong at work - he ran a fashion firm, apparently. Again, it wasn’t Louis’ job to ask. Although he thought it ironic, considering the man’s last name, but not at all a surprise - and had regretted being present almost instantly, caught under the larger man’s furious glare. He never lasted for more than a few seconds with the eye contact and would instantly break it off to make an excuse about looking after Alex and running away.
He’d never seen Harry around Alex, usually bumping into the man on his way out of the door whilst Alex was tucked safely into bed. That all changed, however, on March 19th.
Louis was reading Harry Potter to Alex who was curled up tightly in his bed, eyes drooping heavily as the lasting adrenaline left his body. Harry Potter was currently staring at his reflection in the Mirror of Erised and seeing his parents for the first time. Alex sighed.
“I wish that mirror were real,” he whispered to Louis, fingers reaching out from under his duvet to outline the drawing marked on the page, “I’d love to see my father more often. He’s never home.”
Louis smiled softly and ruffled the boy’s hair, “I know, lad, but you know Mr. Styles works really hard to give you a good life.”
Alex nodded, but his stiff bottom lip betrayed him, wobbling and breaking apart as he took a deep breath, trying to stop the tears from falling, “It would be a good life if I had him with me.” He whispered.
Louis didn’t know what to say, his fingertips brushing through Alex’s hair in the soothing way that helps him to fall asleep. Alex yawned and fell silent, the rise and fall of his chest suggesting he’d fallen asleep. He slowly lifted himself off the bed and slid the book back onto the shelf, being sure to make the page with a bookmark for the next night. He pulled the duvet up higher around Alex’s neck, closed the windows of his bedroom and picked up the day clothes that were scattered on the floor, placing them in the laundry basket. Quietly, he tip-toed out of the room and turned the light off, pulling the door closed enough that the light of the hallway wouldn’t disturb the sleeping boy, and he made his way back to Alex’s playroom.
He spent the next hour of his work shift tidying the room, putting the racing cars and barbie dolls back into their allocated drawers of the shelving unit. He kept one eye on the clock at all times, waiting for the moment Mr. Styles would arrive back home.
He should really talk to him… but that wasn’t his job.
❁
Mr. Styles arrived back almost silently; the only evidence the slam of his bedroom door as he shut himself in as soon as he stepped back into the Manor. Liam Payne, Master of the House (‘Master of the House’. That title always got a good chuckle out of Louis) and possibly Louis’ best friend, appeared in the doorway of the playroom and knocked lightly on the door.
“Alright there, Payno?” Louis sighed, putting the electronic puppy into it’s place on the shelf. Alex had squealed with such happiness when he’d opened the present for his last birthday and had cuddled into Louis’ side with the largest of grins, stroking the ears of the pup as he whispered, “I’ve always wanted a puppy, Lou, forever and always.” Louis had just smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to the boy’s head, ruffling his hair and picking up the instruction manual to turn the still puppy into a lively, electronic one. Sure, it wasn’t a real dog, but it was the closest thing to it Louis could supply Alex with, and Alex understood.
Liam nodded, “Master Styles is home, you may leave.”
Louis huffed and stood from his crouched position against the wall, sliding the remaining drawers shut and grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch, “Thanks, Li.” He winked, “Still on for Sunday night?”
“Indeed I am, Tommo,” replied Liam, rolling his eyes and leaning against the doorframe, “Someone’s got to keep you in check outside of these walls.”
Sunday was the only night all of the staff were allocated off. The majority of them lived in the Manor, in quarters hidden by dark hallways and brickwork, and Liam was no exception. He was allowed the night free, from Sunday at 6pm until Monday at 7am. The majority of the time was spent with Liam visiting his family in Wolverhampton, but as they had gone away for the Summer Holiday this week, Louis promised to take Liam out to the best bars on this side of London. Liam had been reluctant with agreeing but Louis had not accepted ‘no’ as an answer.
It made Louis laugh, honestly, that Liam tried to pin himself off as a pristine, non-drinking, upper-class member of society. In reality, Liam was a lad. Of course, Louis would never tell him that over calling him ‘boy’ and ruffling his feathers, but Liam knew how to party and could do it well. They’d attended university together for heaven’s sake, Louis knew what the guy was like.
“Brill,” Louis smirked, “I’d best be off; got a little girl with a fear of thunderstorms to comfort tonight.”
Liam nodded, knowing all about Callie’s phobia and the weather reports that had been warning of the storm for the past week, moving aside to allow Louis to slip from the room. Louis quickly strolled through the hallways he had learned like the back of his hand over the past three years and quickly found himself in the cloakroom, swapping his work shoes for his trainers and swinging his back over his back. “Later, Payno!” He shouted as he ducked out of the main doors. He quickly made his way to the bus stop three streets over and seated himself on one of the benches, waiting for the bus to appear.
He thought over what Alex had said earlier. He was right, Mr. Styles was almost never home, and when he was Alex was usually in bed or he had locked himself in his study, away from his son. But Louis couldn't dwell on that too much. Right now, he had to look after Callie.
He let himself in when he arrived at the house and nodded briefly at the Roseton's as he leapt the stairs two at a time.
Callie was already in her bed, small hands grasping the sheets and pulling them up to her chin. She stifled a sob as the first crack of lightning echoed around the room, her body tense with fear. Louis climbed into the bed next to her and pulled off his shoes before wrapping his arms around her. He listened as the front door slammed shut, echoing a clang similar to the thunder that rumbled through the house.
He held back tears as he sang lullabies quietly to Callie, his heart breaking as her half asleep form whispers that it's "too loud and angry, like Daddy gets when Mummy has said the wrong thing."
He doesn’t ask; it isn’t his job.