Summertime & Butterflies

The sun had long set but the dark city appeared more lit up than usual. The street lights were hardly noticeable over the intense flashing of the photographer’s cameras. The paparazzi, reporters and fans had hurried from the Odeon to the after party to stake out a spot in front of the entrance. They were each hoping to get a glimpse, autograph or interview with one of the stars of the film, but as the cast was officially in party-mode, it would prove more difficult to get what they wanted.

The roomy back seat of the sedan seemed the size of a small apartment with just Harry and Olivia. Anne and Gemma had decided against attending the after party, and Harry hadn’t extended the invite to Jeff and Glenne. Clearly, he was upset with Jeff, and while Olivia desperate for details and a small dose of bad-mouthing, she wouldn’t bring it up before the party.

“Jeez…” Olivia commented under her breath as the driver stopped the car about half a block from the club. She could hear the shouts and cries, the crowd yelling out Tom’s name as Harry’s co-star arrived at the party just ahead of them. Olivia’s stomach tumbled as she realised it would be the first time she and Harry would be in a public photo together.

Appearing to sense her trepidation, Harry squeezed Olivia’s hand. “Just calm down,” he advised her, echoing her own words from earlier. “You look beautiful,” he promised, kissing her knuckles. “And besides, they’re here for me, not you,” he told her cheekily.

Olivia rolled her eyes and swatted Harry’s knee. “Yes, Meryl Streep,” she answered with a good-natured sigh. “I know.”

Harry smirked, tugging Olivia closer to her before pressing a sweet kiss against her lips. “Hey, I prefer to be called Ingrid Bergman,” he joked. “But seriously, honey. We’ll get out of the car, take just a few steps past only a few cameras, and then we’ll be inside, alone… With a bunch of other people that worked on the film who you don’t know… that I hardly know, really. But… open bar,” he added, raising his eyebrow.

Olivia nodded. It would be fine. She would be fine – she was wearing Spanx and Versace. She’d be okay.

“Just… don’t scowl,” Harry advised as the car crept forward. “You’ll want to squint, because of the lights, but don’t.” He wasn’t saying what he wanted to say, that much was clear to Olivia. She suspected he was trying to tell her not to look bitchy, because the fans would have a field day with that, but he was proving to Olivia that sometimes he could be a smart man and keep his mouth shut. Sometimes.

Olivia turned to him, the aforementioned scowl on her face. “I don’t scowl!” she shot back indignantly. She knew she did, and likely would, but she didn’t need Harry reminding her to not make her face wrinkle up like a bitter old lady’s.

“I know!” Harry quickly corrected. “Just… don’t. Just keep your face loose and and… You know, like this?” he suggested, allowing all of the muscles in his face to go limp as he stared into space. He held the pose for a beat or two before grinning charmingly at Olivia. “Just like that, see? Just, like… meh! You know?”

Olivia shook her head. “If I do that, everyone will think you’re dating a helmet wearing, short bus rider… when really, that’s who I’m dating,” she teased, clutching his hand again as the car came to a stop. The windows were darkly tinted, but the camera flashing made visibility seem as though the windows were rolled down on a sunny day.

Harry leaned across the seat, quickly kissing Olivia before the driver opened the door. “I love you,” he assured her, touching her hand before he stepped out of the car. He was greeted with an onslaught of shouts and flashes, but he ignored them as he turned back to the car to assist Olivia in her exit.

She was relieved Harry was standing in front of her, as she suddenly realised she hadn’t practised exiting a car in a dress. The only thing worse than looking like a scowling bitch in the pictures would be flashing her Spanx for everyone to see.

“I know,” she whispered in response as she stood, her grip crushingly tight on his hand.

Harry smirked over his shoulder at Olivia, smiling and nodding at the crowd surrounding the entrance. He kept his hand around Olivia’s and she kept her head down, reminding herself to have a loose face, as Harry had so ridiculously demonstrated.

His name was being shouted all around them but Harry didn’t stop. He offered smiles, nods and expressed his thanks repeatedly, but as one hand was clutching his cane and one was clutching his girlfriend, he didn’t have a spare limb to sign autographs with.

“Harry, is this your girlfriend?”

“Harry, mate, what’s her name?”

“Are you getting married, Harry?”

“What about Kendall?”

“What about Taylor?”

Olivia could not resist rolling her eyes at the last question, but she quickly remembered the masses of cameras around her and blinked rapidly, hoping to hide her disgust. She felt Harry’s hand tighten at the mention of his ex-girlfriends and she squeezed back, reassuring him it was okay. It wasn’t – she hated hearing those names – but she also knew they were names she would continue to hear for a long, long time and would have to get used to it.

Thanking the crowds a final time, Harry and Olivia ducked into the club. A security guard was standing in front of a velvet rope, blocking off the VIP section from any potential party crashers. Recognizing Harry, he nodded a greeting at him before unhooking the rope and allowing Harry and Olivia to pass by. A narrow staircase was on their left, leading them to the private lounge.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Harry asked, turning to smile at Olivia as they ascended the staircase. “Did you scowl?” he wondered, his eyes crinkling as he laughed.

Olivia smacked Harry’s bottom. “No, I made sure I looked like a dumb ass, just like you taught me,” she retorted cheekily. “I might regret saying this, but I’m glad we’re out in the open now,” she admitted to him. She knew things would be different now, but she also knew she and Harry would stay exactly the same

He stopped at the top of the stairs, facing Olivia. “I told you, I didn’t want you to feel like I was hiding you,” he mumbled into her hair as he embraced her. “And I’ll call out anyone who says any kind of shit about you. I will,” he added, hearing Olivia’s quiet snicker. “Prince Harry did it, and… I’m your Prince Harry, aren’t I?”

Olivia giggled. “You’re more like… my court jester,” she teased, hugging her arms around Harry’s narrow hips. She didn’t expect Harry to scold his fans on his social media, and would likely fall over if he did defend her honor publically, but she did appreciate his intended protectiveness.

“Hey…” Harry protested in a whiny voice. “I’m pretty princely!”

“Mmm…” Olivia hummed, smirking coyly at Harry. He shook his head at her, tightening his hug around her shoulders.

“Don’t be cheeky with me, Pita,” he murmured into her ear, his breath against her skin causing goosebumps to form along her arms. “Or I’ll have to find a dark corner to punish you in…”

Olivia arched her back slightly, pressing her chest against Harry’s. “Promise?” she asked, knowing she was turning him on.

Harry let out a quiet groan. “Oh, fuck you…” he told her as he ran his hands up Olivia’s torso, cupping her breasts. He stared at her chest for a moment before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “You’re so fucking hot, honey…”

Olivia laughed, covering Harry’s hands with her own. She massaged his hands against her breasts once, twice, three times before taking his hands in hers and pulling them away from her chest. “Just a little taste of what’s coming later,” she taunted flirtatiously, nudging his hip with hers as she silently directed him into the party.

“You’re such an asshole,” Harry grumbled, though obliging as he led Olivia into the room. “But you are fucking hot…” he added in a whisper, tugging Olivia closer to him as one of Harry’s co-stars turned around at the sound of their entrance. “These guys are going to try to charm the pants off you. Don’t let them fool you, they’re all gross. I’m the best. Hi!” He greeted with a laugh, shaking the blonde man’s hand.

“Best… Song Ever…” he sang out his greeting in a thick Scottish accent, accepting Harry’s hand. “Well, we did it, huh mate? No tomatoes were thrown either, so I think we might have done okay!”

“Maybe they’ll be waiting outside after the party…” Harry mused. He shrugged. “We can make salsa.”

Olivia snickered, punctuating her laughter with a roll of her eyes. Her chuckle caught the actor’s attention, and he echoed her laughter.

“So you’re the lovely lady who willingly puts up with this bloke, huh?” he asked, releasing Harry’s hand and taking Olivia’s. “Must be a saint or something.”

“Well, I drink a lot and work with kids, so I’m pretty suited for the job,” Olivia replied, teasingly bumping Harry’s hip. He scowled, facetiously insulted.

The blonde man laughed. “I’m Jack,” he introduced, and Olivia was relieved. She didn’t know if she was expected to know who he was, but it would be embarrassing if she was, and didn’t.

“Olivia,” she answered. “Nice to meet you. And congratulations on the movie. You were wonderful,” she added, hoping – as always – that she sounded as sincere as she intended.

“Thank you, I appreciate that,” he answered. He released Olivia’s hand, nudging Harry’s shoulder. “Can already tell she’s too good for you,” he joked.

Harry nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know that,” he agreed. “She doesn’t, though, so let’s just…” He trailed off, pretending to button his lips.

Jack chuckled. “Got it,” he answered. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Olivia. I’m going to go find my drink and a girl, but I’ll find you at the bar later. We’ll do a shot or two,” he said to Harry.

“For sure,” Harry answered. “Good luck with the girl.”

“You too,” Jack chuckled, smirking at Olivia before sauntering into the crowd.

Harry turned to Olivia. “So, pretty girl… can I buy you a drink?” he asked coyly, resting his hand on Olivia’s lower back, his fingers tickling against her bottom.

“Open bar,” Olivia reminded Harry, running her hand through Harry’s hair before lightly massaging her fingers behind his ears. She knew she was being a tease, but she also knew Harry’s ears were his sweet spot, and getting him excited in public was rousing to her.

Harry let out a guttural sigh. “Stop,” he told her, though his carnal tone telling her he didn’t really want her to stop. “Can I get you drunk then… and maybe take advantage of you later?”

Olivia leaned into Harry, pressing a soft kiss against his dimpled cheek. “Maybe…” she whispered, letting her finger trail slowly down Harry’s chest. “If I don’t get to you first…” She let her hand settle on his belt, giving it a gentle tug before taking his hand.

Harry groaned loudly. “I fucking hate you so much right now, you know that?” he grumbled as Olivia led him towards the bar. She smirked at him as she glanced over her shoulder. Teasing Harry was definitely one of her most favourite pastimes... teasing, and what came after the teasing.

~*~*~*~

“What?” Olivia asked again, leaning closer to narrow-eyed actor with the heavy Irish accent. The accent was difficult enough to understand, but the few drinks in his system and surrounding noise made it nearly impossible. Olivia wasn’t even certain he was speaking English.

Barry laughed loudly. “I said, how long are you in the city for?” he repeated, slowing his words down.

“Oh! Sorry,” Olivia apologised. “Uhmm…” she trailed off, glancing beside her at Harry. He wasn’t paying attention to Olivia and Barry’s conversation, so Olivia shrugged, turning back to Barry.

“Probably a couple more days, then… back to Los Angeles for a bit,” she answered, amazed the summer was half over, and she only had a couple more weeks with Harry before she had to return home. The thought of leaving him saddened her and she reached out, grasping Harry’s hand.

He turned at her touch, squeezing her hand back as he grinned. “You mean, back to LA forever,” he corrected teasingly, though Olivia knew there was more truth than tale behind his words. Harry didn’t make it a secret that he wanted Olivia to stay with him. She understood, but she wished he wouldn’t bring it up so often.

Rather than saying that, however, Olivia let out a quiet chuckle and shook her head. “I live in Canada,” she added to Barry by way of explanation. “So… I’ll have to head back soon…”

“Not soon,” Harry countered. “Eventually.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Tomato, tomato,” she answered. “But, I’ll be back lots,” she added, more for Harry than for Barry.

“It’s not easy,” Barry agreed. “But least you can FaceTime with his ugly mug, anyway,” he jibbed, grinning playfully at Harry. “Why you wanna though, right?”

Olivia laughed. “Ahh, I’m kind of fond of this mug,” she answered, touching Harry’s cheek gently. She rested her head against his shoulder and sighed quietly. She didn’t want to think about the summer ending, but it was hard not to notice the elephant in the room.

After a moment, Olivia stood up. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, giving Harry’s shoulder a light squeeze before stepping away from the table and heading towards the ladies room.

She stepped into the small room, locking the door behind her. Olivia always appreciated the ladies rooms in fancy establishments – rather than sticky floors and empty soap dispensers, this washroom had a floral scent, a wide assortment of lotions and creams to use, and a wingback accent chair tucked into the corner – because everyone knew girls never went to the washroom alone.

After washing her hands, Olivia pawed through the basket of lotions, trying to select one to try. Holding a vanilla peach in one hand and cherry blossom in the other, she wondered if anyone would know if she took one. Deciding it would be quite greasy to steal a used tube of lotion, she tossed the cherry blossom back in the basket and massaged the vanilla pear onto her hands. After checking her hair a final time in the mirror, she unlocked the bathroom door.

“Oh, hi…”

Olivia jumped, startled as she opened the bathroom door. She giggled a split-second later, realising her follower was Harry. “What are you doing?” she asked him in a loud whisper, the few glasses of wine she had causing her voice to raise.

Harry echoed Olivia’s laugh, his tequila drinks making his dimpled cheeks rosy. “Shhh,” he instructed, darting into the bathroom. He slammed the door shut and locked it behind him, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

Olivia shook her head, holding her hand out to stop Harry, who took a couple of slow steps towards her. “No, no!” she giggled, backing up towards the wall. Harry bumped against her hand, making no motion to stop. “We can’t! Down, boy…” she added as Harry took her extended hand and pulled it around his back.

“We can…” Harry reminded her, gently fluttering his lips along her neck and collarbone. “I checked, there’s another ladies room by the stairs. And it’s actually nicer than this one, so we’re sort of doing all the women a favour…”

Olivia snickered, pressing her ear against Harry’s chest. “Oh, you’ve thought of everything…” she teased gently, letting out a contented sigh. Being enveloped in Harry’s arms was her favourite thing in the world. She never felt more safe or protected than she did when she was wrapped up with him, and she wished there was a way she could stay like that every day. She hated the thought of leaving him.

Harry tightened his grip on Olivia, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “I don’t like to talk about you leaving me…” he mumbled sadly, seeming to read Olivia’s mind.

“Then let’s not. Please?” Olivia asked, her voice almost pleading. She ran her hands up and down Harry’s back. “We both know I have to go, so… let’s just not think about it right now, okay?” She looked up at him. “But, uhm… speaking of me going?”

Harry furrowed his brow. “What?” he asked warily.

Olivia laughed at his frown. “Don’t worry,” she told him, affectionately patting his back. “But… so… my mom sent me a text earlier, and… she’s planning this, like… big to-do for my grandparents in a couple weeks. It’s their anniversary. So…” Olivia let out a sigh, wondering why she was having such a difficult time telling her plans to Harry. “My whole family will be there, and… my mom really wants you to come. And I really want you to come,” she added quickly. “So… can you?”

Harry eyed Olivia curiously. “Why do you sound so weird?” he asked with a laugh, pressing a kiss against her cheek. “Do you think I’d say no?”

Olivia shrugged. “Well… I don’t know...” she confessed. “You’re busy, and…”

Harry pressed a finger against Olivia’s lips, silencing her. “Stop,” he instructed sternly. “I don’t want you to ever think I’m too busy for you. You’re my number one,” he told her, replacing his finger with his lips. His words and touch sent a shiver up Olivia’s spine.

Olivia smiled. “You’re my number one, too,” she told him, ignoring the quiet voice in the back of her head, the nearly inaudible part of her conscience asking her that if Harry really was her number one, why was she planning on leaving him for her career?

Notes