Summertime & Butterflies

“Okay, I’ve got a good one,” Harry determined, gesturing with his free hand. His left arm was being used for Olivia’s pillow, as the two of them sprawled out on the blanket, watching the stars and sharing bad ‘Would You Rathers’. The tacos and wine were long gone, the sun had set behind the Pacific Ocean with a splendor of colours, a few hours had passed but neither party seemed to have a desire to end the date anytime soon.

“As good as the one about having no penis?” asked Olivia teasingly, swatting her hand against Harry’s stomach playfully. Clearly, Harry had spent too much time with his bandmates, if he thought “would you rather have no penis or five penises?” was an appropriate question for a girl whose breasts he’d just had his hands all over.

“Oh, stop,” Harry scolded her, bending his arm and ruffling her hair. Olivia laughed – she’d already teased Harry half a dozen times about his penis faux-pas, but she had no intentions of letting up. She could tell he was embarrassed by asking her the question – an easy slip-up made when he was used to playing the game on a tour bus with a bunch of perverse boys – and his embarrassment only made it more fun for Olivia to tease him. She was finding he didn’t take himself too seriously and he found it cute – not demoralizing – when Olivia teased him.

“Okay, so… would you rather… change gender every time you sneezed,” began Harry, tapping his fingers against his stomach in thought. “Or! Not be able to tell the difference between a baby and a muffin.”

Olivia snickered and turned to face Harry, an incredulous look on her face. “Are you serious?” she asked with a laugh. “How am I supposed to pick between those?”

“It’s supposed to be hard,” Harry reminded her, a proud grin on his face. “Because it’s a very good question, because I’m fully capable of very good questions!”

Olivia patted his stomach. “Yes, you are,” she cooed, feigning condescend while she tried to think of an answer to Harry’s proposition. “Okay, so… the sneezing thing. Would I become, like… a macho man? Or would I be one of those androgynous model types where you can’t really tell gender anyway?”

Harry let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “You’re not supposed to ask questions about the questions,” he again chastised good-naturedly, as Olivia had mused further about each hypotheses Harry presented her with. But, of course, he’d obliged with each of her past questions and would do the same with this one.

“You’re so annoying,” he told her with an endearing smile, pressing a kiss against her temple. Olivia chuckled but tapped her fingers against Harry’s hand, urging him to answer her question. He let out another overstated sigh. “Okay. I guess… you don’t have to be a macho man, but you’ll look like a man. Or like a boy. Like a pre-teen boy.”

“Okay…” answered Olivia slowly. “And could I maybe supress a sneeze? Or force a sneeze? To trick this thing?”

“No. You have to accept each sneeze as it comes. And no forcing,” Harry told her, closing his eyes and absent-mindedly running his fingers through Olivia’s hair. She rolled onto her side, shifting herself closer to Harry and draping one arm across his stomach. Kissing him was lovely. She was certain other things with him would be even lovelier. But right now, cuddling on the beach with Harry, under the stars, was as close to perfection as she could imagine.

“What if I sneeze during sex?”

“Is that something that normally occurs for you?” asked Harry, lifting his head slightly to look down at Olivia, a bemused smirk on his face.

“Are you answering my question with a question?” she countered back, giving his stomach a gentle squeeze.

“I’m just trying to be annoying like you,” he teased her with a tug on her hair. “How am I doing?”

“A for effort, anyway,” she told him, trying to sound blasé but letting out a giggle. “I don’t think you’re performing to the best of your ability, though.”

“Ah, spoken like a true teacher.”

She wagged her finger at Harry. “Keep it up and you’ll have to stay after class, Mister,” she told him, fabricating sternness.

“Is that a promise?” Harry asked, grabbing her wagging finger and pulling her hand to his mouth, kissing it. Olivia laughed, yanking her hand away from Harry and propping herself up on one arm. She leaned over Harry, her hair gently falling against his cheek.

“You’re a brat,” she told him again, looking down into Harry’s eyes and wondering how it was possible to like someone this much when they’d only just met.

“And you’re annoying,” he teased her, reaching up and placing her hand on the nape of her neck, pulling her down to him. She giggled, the word quickly becoming a term of endearment and not an insult. “But you’ve got a cute giggle, and you’re awfully pretty,” he mumbled against her lips. “I think I’ll keep you around.”

Olivia smiled at his words but didn’t comment on them. She felt as though her impending return home was an elephant in the room, and she didn’t want to think about it while she was having such a fun time with Harry. She knew she would be going home. He knew she would be going home. There was no point in mentioning the inevitable.

Letting out a small sigh, Olivia flopped back down onto her back, relaxing against Harry’s arm. He ruffled her hair again and the two of them were silent for a few moments. Olivia wondered if he was thinking about her leaving Los Angeles as well. Breaking the silence, Olivia nudged Harry’s leg playfully with her own.

“So… what if I sneeze during sex?”

Harry covered his eyes with his hand. “Oh, God,” he moaned out. “Just answer the question,” he advised her, pretending to be annoyed with her.

“I can’t make an educated decision without all of the facts,” Olivia reminded him, reaching across his stomach and taking his hand in hers, tracing her fingers along his. She was enjoying the teasing banter they had going on with one another and was pleased Harry could dish it as well as take it.

“You’re just stalling because you don’t have an answer to such an incredible set of questions,” Harry boasted to Olivia, toying with her fingers as though they were having a thumb war. “Okay, okay,” he stated, feeling her playfully pin his thumb backwards. “Okay, I guess... you won’t sneeze while your… parts are in use. Or maybe you’ll still sneeze, but you won’t change.”

Olivia was silent, mulling over his words in her head. She was curious about the details about using gender parts – namely, if she was pregnant or on her period, would she remain female – but decided against asking Harry, though she had a feeling he wouldn’t be weirded out by the mention of the two P words. “Okay, I can live with that,” she determined after a moment. “So now, this muffin thing…”

Harry groaned again, rolling himself over so his chest was pressed against Olivia’s, pinning her arms above her head. “Why don’t I just kiss you instead?” he asked coyly, finding her lips before she could answer. She laughed against his lips, pulling her hands free from his clutches and wrapping them around his neck.

“If you insist,” sighed Olivia, her eyes shining brightly as she gazed into Harry’s own laughing eyes. He chuckled, looking at her with a sense of adoration, in a way no one had ever looked at her before. She felt as though he was looking into her soul, seeing everything about her. And the peculiar thing was, she wanted him to.


~*~*~

“So, you guys didn’t even know each other until the show?” asked Olivia, tugging on the sleeves of her sweater in an attempt to cover her hands. As warm as the afternoon had been, the ocean breeze brought a chill to the night. Harry had ventured to his car earlier and found a couple of sweaters and a lap blanket, which they’d wrapped around their knees. The logical thing would have been to call it a night and head to their respective homes, but though it was after midnight, they still didn’t want to end the date.

Harry shook his head, taking Olivia’s cold hands in his and rubbing them vigorously. “No, none of them,” he answered. “We all came in and auditioned as solo artists, but didn’t really make it far. When we got cut, we were all pretty gutted over it… but then Simon came up with this idea of putting us in a group. And we were just like… sure.”

“Was that weird?” Olivia wondered, resting her head against Harry’s shoulder. “Like, being solo and then being in this group with guys you didn’t even know?”

“I think if it happened now, it’d be weird. But we were all so young, and just wanted to perform, and this was our opportunity,” Harry explained. “We were just excited to not go home. We were more concerned about what we were gonna wear than anything,” he added with a chuckle.

“Priorities,” agreed Olivia, echoing Harry’s chuckle. “What song did you sing for your audition?”

“Me, by myself?” Harry asked for clarification. When Olivia nodded affirmatively, he smiled, almost wistfully at the memory. “Isn’t She Lovely by Stevie Wonder.”

“That’s a great song,” Olivia told him, somewhat surprised by his song choice. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to say, but not that. She lifted her head, looking at Harry with a smile. “Sing it now.”

He looked at her, matching her smile. “Now?” he asked, sounding surprised by her request.

Olivia nodded. “I haven’t heard you sing,” she told him, still smiling. “Please?” she added, her tone almost pleading with him.

“Alright,” he agreed after a moment. “Just cause you’re pretty,” he added teasingly, squeezing her hand. He cleared his throat, and Olivia got the sense he was nervous about singing in front of her.

“Isn’t she lovely?” he began, piercing the quiet night air with his voice, clear yet raspy, with a strong vibrato. “Isn't she wonderful? Isn't she precious? Less than one minute old. I never thought through love we'd be making one as lovely as she. But isn't she lovely, made from love.”

“Wow…” Olivia stated after a moment, trying to rein in her emotions. Midway through the song, she’d felt a lump in her throat. She didn’t know if it was Harry’s voice, the song, the feelings she was developing for him, or a combination of all three, but something triggered something inside of her. She cleared her throat, hoping to rid the lump and appear composed.

“You have a beautiful voice,” she told him, hearing her voice crack slightly as she spoke. Harry turned to look at her, a peculiar look on his face as he heard her voice. His face softened as he looked at her and he smiled at Olivia, rubbing her back comfortingly.

“Thank you,” he answered, planting a gentle kiss on her temple. “Can I tell you something that might sound conceited, but it’s not meant to be?”

Olivia laughed, settling her head against Harry’s shoulder once more. “Of course,” she answered, relieved he didn’t press her about her emotions. She was fairly certain he was used to girls crying when he sang, anyway.

“I sort of expected you to, like… Google me… after we met at the bar,” he confessed, sounding sheepish at the notion. “I know that sounds incredibly presumptuous of me,” he quickly added. “But it’s just… rare, I guess… for someone to not know something about me.”

“I did Google you, actually,” Olivia confessed, shrugging apologetically. “But… I felt weird doing it. Like voyeuristic or something like that. So I just looked for, like, two seconds… and then stopped.” She lifted her head and looked at Harry, smiling softly. “I wanted to get to know you from you… not from the internet.”

Harry exhaled loudly, his smile conveying nothing but relief at her statement. She suddenly realised that she wasn’t the only one feeling trepidation about the other party’s intentions. It would be naïve of Olivia to think she was the only one out of the two of them who’d fell victim to fool’s gold. How many times had Harry been used for his wealth or his fame, for someone else’s gain? The thought broke her heart and infuriated her at the same time.
“Where did you come from?” he mumbled rhetorically, leaning his forehead against Olivia’s. She smiled at him, pressing her lips to his.

“It’s a secret,” she teased him, though she was wondering the exact same thing about him.

~*~*~

“He was stricter with Steph and Jess, but yeah… just kind of a stodgy old man,” Olivia joked, describing her father to Harry. Her voice was muffled, as she was stretched out on her stomach, using her arms as a pillow. Harry was stretched out beside her, their arms touching as they shared more childhood anecdotes with each other. “I got away with more, only because I think he was burned out by the time I was a teenager!”

“I’m sure you made life incredibly simple for him,” Harry teased, a hint of a grin visible.

“I was perfect!” Olivia retorted. She paused, letting out a giggle. “At least as far as my dad knows, anyway,” she corrected.

Harry chuckled, reaching out and pulling Olivia closer to him. He rested his head on her back, his chin grinding into her shoulder, but she didn’t care. “Wow,” he said suddenly. “It’s getting light out.”

Olivia turned her head, away from the shade of the cliff and looked further down the beach. Harry was right. A few stars were still barely visible, but most of them had disappeared, giving way to the greyish-pink rays poking in from the East.

“Have you really talked my ear off all night?” Olivia asked Harry teasingly. He reached around, squeezing her stomach playfully.

“I think that award goes to you, darling,” he told her, the word hanging in the air after he’d spoken it. Olivia grinned, liking the way it sounded on his lips.

“Oh, psh,” she scoffed, dismissing his comment with a flick of her wrist as she reached for her purse. She hadn’t looked at her phone all night – appreciatively, neither did Harry – and while it was lovely for the both of them to be unplugged and focused on each other, she realised she should have checked in with her sister before –.

“Five a.m!” Olivia yelped, the numbers on the phone seeming more real to her than the changing sky. “And five missed calls from my sister, and about eight thousand texts,” she added with a sigh, showing Harry the screen. He laughed, holding his phone up for Olivia to see.

“’Bout the same,” he chuckled. “Think she’s had a stroke yet?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Olivia answered, laughing as her fingers flew across the keyboard, assuring Stephanie that she was alive. She tossed the phone back into her purse and looked at Harry. Despite the sudden realisation that she was exhausted – and likely looked it too – she still didn’t want to leave.

Olivia exhaled loudly, punctuating the sigh with a shrug. “Well… I don’t want to say this…” she began, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“I know,” Harry answered, uttering a sigh of his own. “But I suppose I should let you sleep…”

“Maybe,” Olivia agreed sullenly, stifling a yawn. Harry laughed and stood up, offering his hands to Olivia and helping her up. Once standing, Harry wrapped his arms around Olivia, holding her tight as the two of them stood silently together.

“I kind of don’t want to let you go,” he whispered into her ear.

“Then don’t,” Olivia whispered back. Harry pulled away slightly and looked into Olivia’s eyes, both of them attempting to determine what her words meant. Even though she was the one who spoke them, Olivia wasn’t sure what she meant – literally, figuratively, indefinitely. But she knew, whether Harry was physically holding her or not, he was going to have a hold on her.

~*~*~

“Well,” Harry said unnecessarily, pulling into Stephanie’s driveway. “Here we are.”

“Here we are,” Olivia echoed, the statement coming out as one, long sigh. She looked at the house and back at Harry, biting her lip. She knew what she wanted to say, but it was stupid to even bring it up. She was leaving in less than a week. The smart thing to do would be to remember the date as a wonderful night and file it along with the other wonderful dates she’d been on. But, Olivia wasn’t always the smartest person.

“I want to see you again.”

“Can I see you again?”

They laughed in unison as their voices overlapped, reminiscent of the night in the bar. Harry took Olivia’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb along hers. “I’d like that,” he told her, his voice sounding hoarse with drowsiness.

“Me, too,” Olivia agreed, giving his hand a light squeeze. “I had a really amazing time with you,” she told him honestly. “I haven’t…” She paused, smiling at Harry. “Thank you,” she said instead.

“I had such an incredible time with you,” Harry answered, his grin stretched from ear-to-ear. He cupped her face with his hands and pulled her closer. Though languid, their lips found each other eagerly, the curve of his smile and warmth of his mouth having a sense of home.

“I’m gonna let you get some sleep,” Harry told Olivia, pressing his lips to hers in a quick peck. “And then… I’m gonna call you tomorrow morning, and we’ll make a plan, okay?”

“Deal,” Olivia agreed, already excitedly anticipating seeing Harry again. She leaned forward, offering her lips to Harry one more time. As the peck became more urgent in nature, she pulled back, grinning at him.

“I’d better leave now, before I don’t,” she told him cheekily, hand on the car door handle.

He nodded. “Stick around much longer and I won’t let you leave,” Harry teased back, running his fingers through Olivia’s hair. “I’ll see you soon,” he promised her. “But maybe not soon enough,” he added, a teasing statement with an abundance of truth behind it.

Notes