Summertime & Butterflies

After a lengthy shower – in which Harry determined Olivia’s breasts were, in fact, filthy and needed to be sudded up and scrubbed down several times – the two of them found themselves curled up together in Harry’s bed, the scent of grapefruit and amber wafting from their skin. A Jason Bateman comedy played on the TV across the room, but neither of them were paying much attention to the film. Knowing it was their last evening together for who knew how long, they were more focused on one another than watching Jason Bateman pee into a fountain.

“You know what’s weird about Humpty Dumpty?” asked Harry, his question coming from out of the blue as he absentmindedly wound locks of Olivia’s hair together. She was certain she would have a monster knot when he was finished, but loving the feeling of his fingers gently brushing against her scalp, she didn’t even care.

“Uhm…” Olivia began, drawing the word out before punctuating it with a laugh. “I can’t pick just one thing!” she teased him, nudging his bare stomach. How Harry’s mind worked tickled her – she didn’t know what he’d been thinking about in order to ask her about a nursery rhyme character, but she adored his goofy randomness.

“I know,” he agreed, twisting a handful of Olivia’s hair into a bun shape before letting it fall against her shoulder. “But… listen to this. No one ever says he’s an egg! He’s just this broken apart… thing. He could be a giraffe for all we know!”

Olivia scoffed loudly, lifting her chin and looking up at Harry before shaking her head. “You’re a nut,” she determined. “He’s an egg! They say he’s an egg…” she added thoughtfully, reciting the rhyme in her head.

“Uh-uh,” Harry countered, shaking his head. “Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall…” he quoted, tapping his hand rhythmically against Olivia’s arm as he spoke. “Humpty Dumpty had a great fall… All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again…”

Olivia snickered, hearing Harry’s proud grin behind his words, though she couldn’t see his face. “And… and… Humpty Dumpty was an egg,” she free-styled, giggling through her words. “So… when he fell and broke his…, uhm… leg… All the king’s horses and all the king’s men… Uhm… scrambled him up and… and… threw him in a pan!” she finished triumphantly, twisting her body to face Harry, grinning gleefully at him.

Harry laughed loudly at Olivia’s attempt to prove him wrong, his giggle erupting out at least eight octaves higher than his usual baritone. “Jesus!” he cackled, snickering as he pressed a kiss against Olivia’s forehead. “That was pretty good,” he chuckled. “I mean, completely wrong, but… nice little free-style there,” he added, laughing again.

Olivia flicked her hair over her shoulder, feigning arrogance. “Well, I do moonlight as a rapper, so…” She shrugged haughtily before pointing a finger at Harry. “Don’t go stealing my sick rap, either,” she warned him playfully. “It’s copy-written.”

Harry held his hands up defensively. “I would never,” he answered, pretending to be aghast at her suggestion. “Though it may be kind of hard to get that amazing prose out of my head,” he teased, wrapping his arms around Olivia and resting his head against hers. “You’re goofy,” he mumbled against her hair, tightening his grip on Olivia.

She laughed, relaxing her back against his chest. “You’re Pluto,” she countered, running her hands along his strong arms before entwining her fingers with his.

“You’re… Mars…”

Olivia giggled, toying with Harry’s fingers. “You’re Kit-Kat.”

Harry brushed a kiss against Olivia’s neck, laughing against her ear. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered to her, massaging his fingers along her wrists.

Olivia smiled softly at his compliment, hoping the butterflies she felt when he praised her never stopped fluttering. Still, she couldn’t help being a bit sassy. “You wrecked the game,” she told him cheekily, clicking her tongue disapprovingly.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Harry laughed, not sounding apologetic at all. “Just impossible to think of something better than Kit-Kat.”

Olivia gasped loudly, turning to face Harry, her eyes wide. “Are you saying you’re a loser?” she breathed incredulously. She held her hand up, waiting for a high five. “Just like me!”

Harry laughed, connecting his hand with Olivia’s but shaking his head at her. “No, no,” he corrected. “We weren’t playing a real game. You’re still the only loser,” he teased, pulling her hand to his mouth a pressing a light kiss against it.

Olivia rolled her eyes as she flicked her wrist slightly, connecting gently with Harry’s cheek. “Brat,” she affirmed good-naturedly. She was fairly certain Harry was the only person who could get away with calling her a loser, and sound so endearing while doing so.

“Well, yeah,” Harry agreed. “But I’m a cute brat!”

Olivia sighed loudly, shrugging indifferently. “You’re alright,” she decided after a moment pause, a teasing smile breaking out across her face.

“Cheeky girl,” Harry snickered, pinching her shoulder playfully. Olivia grinned, rolling onto her side and snuggling against Harry, draping one arm across his stomach. He lifted his arm, allowing her to get comfortable against him before dropping his hand onto her shoulder, pulling her close.

“Oh, you know you’re better than alright,” Olivia told Harry, tracing her finger along his stomach.

“I just want you to say what I want to hear,” Harry teased, repeating what Olivia had said earlier. Olivia sighed dramatically, giving his bottom a light pinch.

“Do you have to remember everything I say?” wondered Olivia.

She felt his head nod against hers. “’Course,” he determined. “Especially when it’s something I can tease you about later,” he added cheekily, his lips pressing against Olivia’s hair. “Best just get used to it, honey,” he teased her.

“I guess after this, I can just hang up on you if you tease me,” Olivia commented, her words meant to be light but leaving a heavy tension behind them. “I won’t,” she quickly added, hearing Harry let out a quiet sigh, “but I could…” she joked, attempting to bring the conversation back to the mindless goofiness they were so good at.

“I know,” he assured her, tightening his grip on Olivia. “Besides, I’d just call back anyway,” he added with a chuckle, relieving Olivia. He ran his fingers up and down her arm thoughtfully. “Maybe I should just kidnap you,” he mused. “Then you can just stay right here with me forever...”

“Forever?” Olivia questioned, the word taking her by surprise, but she didn’t want to press on it. Despite their discussion about not wanting to eat food with anyone but the other one, she wasn’t sure if she and Harry had a label. On one hand, it seemed ridiculous to label something with someone she’d see so sporadically. But on the other hand, since they’d both agreed they felt the same way about spending time with other people, it seemed ridiculous not to.

“Can I at least go to Disneyland first?” she asked him after a pause. She didn’t want to bring up labels, not now. The moment had passed. Olivia knew she’d have to find out officially what their status was – vague suggestions only worked with teenagers – but, right now, she was enjoying being curled up with the boy she suddenly realised she already considered her boyfriend.

The sudden revelation shocked her. She knew of couples who hadn’t know each other long, who’d gone on a couple dates and were suddenly Facebook official. The hasty unions always baffled her – she didn’t understand how two people could decide they wanted to be together for the foreseeable future before they even knew one another. What if he chewed his food loudly? Or picked at his ear wax? Or wanted to spend his Saturdays watching subtitled German tennis matches?

Then, she realised something. It didn’t matter. She suddenly discovered what all of the quick coupling couples had discovered before. She didn’t care if Harry chewed too loud, or picked at his orifices, or watched horrible foreign sporting events on television. His bad habits didn’t define him, just like Olivia’s didn’t define her. He had so many good qualities, she found it hard to focus on something bad – of course, they existed… he was human, she was almost certain – but his bad habits were essentially irrelevant in the grand scheme of him.

Without warning, she was terrified. She hadn’t come to Los Angeles thinking she’d meet someone at all, let alone someone like Harry. She’d planned on sleeping in late, sunbathing in her sister’s backyard and hitting up Disneyland, not meeting a man that she wanted to take six thousand selfies with, make an Instagram collage and post idiotic hashtags like #mancrushmonday, #blessed and #brunchwithbae. She didn’t intend on spending her vacation falling for a rock star almost a decade her junior, but she had, and her intense feelings mixed with the fear of the unknown made her want to throw up and laugh hysterically at the same time.

“Sorry, what?” Olivia asked suddenly as Harry nudged her, realising she hadn’t heard him speaking. She rubbed his stomach affectionately, attempting to forget about her internal epiphany. She let out a chuckle, recounting her emotional revelation. It was meant to be a simple titter, but her giddy thoughts about hashtagging with Harry and wanting to call him her Biff spun her into a giggle-fit.

Harry echoed Olivia’s laughter, though a confused look dawned on his face as he tangled his fingers through her hair and tried to figure out what was causing Olivia to cover her face in a hit of hysterics. “Noth – what’s so funny?” he questioned, nudging her chin up to look at him.

She looked up at him, her mouth remaining covered as her eyes crinkled with jollity, her body shaking as she erupted with giggles. “Nothing!” she squeaked out, the fact that she couldn’t stop laughing making her laugh harder. She pulled away from Harry, straightening up into a seated position. She criss-crossed her legs, resting her elbows on her knees and ran her hands along her cheeks, attempting to regain her composure.

“You just… make me kind of giddy,” she told him, hearing the latter part of her sentence before she spoke it. She doubled over again, realising how silly the words sounded. “I mean…” she trailed off, covering her face again as she giggled like a little school girl. “I don’t know what I mean!”

Harry scooted closer to Olivia, replacing her hands with his own. “You’re such a weirdo,” he told her affectionately, smiling as he looked into Olivia’s eyes before leaning towards her and pressing a kiss against her giggly lips.

“But… you make me kind of giddy, too,” Harry confessed to Olivia, grinning shyly against her lips before playing puckering. “My sister was taking the piss out of me for talking about you so much the other night,” he added, looking as though he regretted the statement as soon as it was made. He ducked his head bashfully, a slight smile barely visible.

Olivia didn’t know what “taking the piss” meant, but she was more focused on the fact that Harry had told his sister about her. “You told your sister about me?” she repeated, cocking her head and peering up at Harry from under her eyelashes, flattered that he found her to be someone worth mentioning to his sister.

“Well, of course,” Harry answered, sounding surprised that she questioned it. “I mean… it’s a pretty good story to tell. It’s not every day someone throws up all over you and then ends up being your girlfriend…”

Olivia raised her eyebrows as she heard Harry answer her unasked question about labels. She wondered for a moment if she’d heard him correctly, but she knew she had. She smiled inquisitively at him. “Are you calling me your girlfriend?” she questioned, her small smile stretching into a bright beam at the word, and forgetting to correct him – she hadn’t puked all over him… just a wee little dribble!

Harry’s brow furrowed at her comment. “Well… I mean… yeah..?” he stuttered out, sounding confused. “I mean, I thought… Isn’t that what we meant? When we said we didn’t want to eat anyone else? Eat with anyone else,” he quickly corrected, his face reddening at the error. “Fuck… I thought that’s what we meant…” he whispered, more to himself than Olivia.

Olivia smiled at Harry, amused by his embarrassment over the situation. Given how much he enjoyed making fun of her, she decided to have a little fun at his expense.

“Well, I mean… what would make you think that?” she inquired, focusing on keeping her voice as serious as she could manage. “That’s awfully presumptuous of you, thinking I can decipher your weird little analogies,” she reprimanded, holding back her giggles as she watched Harry’s shoulders slump, like a scolded puppy. “Besides,” she added, a smile finally breaking across her face. Harry, hearing the smile in her voice, looked up at her. “Here I am, assuming things too, and… you never even asked me…”

A relived smile crossed Harry’s face and he shook his head at Olivia. “Jesus,” he snickered good-naturedly. “You’re a real piece of work…” he commented, bracing his hands on Olivia’s crossed legs and leaning into her, closing his lips around hers. “I really thought…” he trailed off, shaking his head again.

She laughed, letting him kiss her for a moment before gently pushing him away. “Well, you know…” she stated, matching his shrug. “You didn’t…” she reminded him, raising her eyebrows at him and silently urging him to ask her. Maybe it was a moot point by now, but she still wanted him to officially ask her, so she knew officially it was her and him.

Harry rolled his eyes again at Olivia before pressing his palm to his forehead, acting annoyed by her behaviour. “So, what?” he questioned, slapping her knee gently. “You want to pretend we’re ten years old, and have me get my mate to ask you for me?”

Olivia scoffed, shaking her head vigorously. “Please,” she sneered teasingly. “I want a note. And I want it to say… ‘Will you be my girlfriend?’ And it should have check boxes… saying ‘yes’, ‘no’, or ‘maybe’.”

“Maybe!?” Harry exclaimed incredulously. “There’s no ‘maybe’, love. Or ‘no’, for that matter…” he added cheekily, planting a kiss against her cheek.

“There could be,” Olivia countered teasingly, even though he was absolutely right.

“There’s not!” Harry argued with a sigh, glancing around the room. “I have no paper for your stupid note,” he told Olivia, sighing again before grabbing her arm and pulling it to him. “This’ll have to do,” he said, tracing his index finger along her forearm, reciting what he was writing to her. “Will… you… be… my…” he paused, flipping her arm over as he ran out of room. “… girlfriend. Question mark,” he added with flourish, kissing Olivia's wrist before releasing it.

“Where’s the check boxes?” she asked him with a giggle, holding out her other arm, insinuating that he should continue with his writing on her left arm.

“Oh, sod off…” Harry cussed quietly, his dimples on full display as he tugged on Olivia’s arm. “Okay, here,” he announced, drawing a large rectangle from her wrist to her elbow. “There’s just room for one…” he advised her, his eyes crinkling as he scribbled a word on her elbow crease. “That says yes,” he informed her.

“Well… I guess… if that’s my only choice…” she teased him, taking his hand in hers. She pressed his three fingers and thumb down against his palm, leaving just the index erect. She gripped his finger as though it were a pen and drew an exaggerated check motion against her skin with his finger.

“I suppose… it’s yes,” she obliged with an exaggerated sigh. She smiled bashfully at Harry, leaning towards him and gripping his cheeks between her hands. “Just so you know… it was a yes even before you asked me,” she confessed, mumbling her words against his lips before coaxing his mouth open, their tongues waltzing together, their first dance as an official couple.

Harry chuckled, grasping Olivia’s shoulders as their tongues danced, giving her a gentle shake. “So you put me through all that for nothing?” he questioned teasingly, nibbling playfully on her lower lip.

Olivia’s eyes squinted shut as she laughed, nodded her head. “Pretty much, yeah,” she admitted. She gave him a playful shove before lowering herself onto him. “Next time, you’ll think twice about making fun of me,” she told him, her hair falling over his shoulders as she kissed him.

He let out a boisterous laugh, wrapping his hands through her hair, holding her close. “Nah… I won’t,” he told her sassily, reciprocating her kiss. “You didn’t one-up me at all, sweetheart,” he told her confidentially, shifting his legs so Olivia’s body fell between his knees.

“Oh, fuck right off!” Olivia laughed, positioning herself comfortably atop Harry. “You were shitting your pants when I called you out on your girlfriend comment!”

Harry shook his head defiantly. “No way,” he argued, wrapping his arms around Olivia and planting a kiss against her forehead. “I was just playing along…”

“You lie like a penny in the parking lot, my dear!” Olivia laughed, though not caring that Harry was fibbing. She saw his face. She knew her chastising monologue had him worried. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they agreed on one thing – him and her.

“I do not…” Harry mumbled into her hair. Olivia laughed again, rolling off Harry and propping herself up on her elbow, grinning smugly as she looked into his eyes.

“You do…” she murmured thoughtfully. “But… I’ll let it slide. I mean… I got you to say what I wanted, didn’t I?”

“Fuck, whatever,” Harry sighed exasperatedly. “I’d say you win, but… you’d never let me forget it. And,” he added, before Olivia could get a word in edgewise, “I think we both win.”

It was completely crazy, and to anyone else, it would make no sense. It barely made sense to her. But rather than questioning it, Olivia simply smiled at Harry and nodded. “We do.”

Notes