Login with:

Facebook

Twitter

Tumblr

Google

Yahoo

Aol.

Mibba

Your info will not be visible on the site. After logging in for the first time you'll be able to choose your display name.

P.S.

Seven


Two drinks. That was all Olivia would allow herself to have. If she had over two, her inhibitions would be too low and she would do something with Harry, something she wouldn’t regret but should. Her sober mind was having a difficult enough time keeping her hands to herself, she could only imagine what an intoxicated state of mind would do to her.

Olivia sat stiffly on the couch, her hands clasped in front of her. She recalled the words she’d spoken to Harry while he was sitting on the very same couch, only days prior. She’d meant every word, but she also didn’t think she would see him again. Now that she was back in his house, with Harry and his family and the memory of her confession, she felt embarrassed.

Harry sat next to Olivia, closer than what might have been acceptable, but not close enough for his liking. He handed her a drink, meeting her eyes as their hands touched over the cup. “Relax,” he murmured to her. “You’re wound tighter than an eight-day clock…” He smirked at the simile, but looked down at his hands. “You don’t have to stay…” he told her, hating the words. “I won’t be too gutted,” he joked, nudging Olivia’s knee with his own. He would be, absolutely.

Olivia followed Harry’s gaze to his hands. “I know,” she assured him. She didn’t have to tell him she wanted to stay. He knew that much, she was certain.

She took a sip of the drink – a Santa Clausmopolitan, as Gemma called it – before she reciprocated Harry’s knee nudge. “What’s an eight-day clock?” she wondered, taking another sip of the sweet beverage. She didn’t care for it, which would make her two drink maximum easier to obey.

Harry laughed, his skin tingling at her touch. “It’s a clock…” he informed Olivia, a cheeky smirk on his face. “… that’s only wound every eight days. Like a grandfather clock,” he explained, bumping against her knee again. God, he loved touching her. “It’s pretty old-school… thought you might remember when they were first in stores,” he teased.

Olivia scoffed, shaking her head at Harry. “Oh, shut up…” she sighed, a smile forming on her lips. Harry always enjoyed teasing Olivia about her age, but he never had any complaints about it. She almost pointed out the fact to him, but decided it was too inappropriate. Instead, she elbowed him gently. “Where can I get tickets to your comedy show?” she teased back.

Harry laughed. Joking with Olivia reminded him of the old times. She still needed to relax, but he would help her to do so. “I’ll give you a couple on the house,” he told her. “Just cause you’re the butt of all my jokes, so it seems only fair,” he chuckled.

Harry’s sense of humour was so ridiculous, but he always made Olivia laugh. “Well… I’m not the only butt in the room,” she answered innocently, taking another sip before smirking at Harry. Olivia loved laughing with him. She realised over the last few days she missed a lot of things about Harry, but she missed laughing with him the most. She and Ben didn’t have that kind of relationship. They had fun, of course, but they didn’t tease each other the way Harry and Olivia did. Ben was too sensitive to accept Olivia’s light jibes as jokes.

Harry’s jaw dropped, feigning astonishment “Mum!” he exclaimed, drawing the word out in a whiny tone. “Olivia just called you an ass!” He let out a dramatic yelp as Olivia swatted his knee. “And now she’s beating me!” he moaned, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Harry, love… I’m sure you deserve it!” Anne teased back, calling to her son from the kitchen. She and Gemma insisted upon making a plate of snacks even though Olivia urged them not to. But, with Harry’s family in the kitchen, it meant Harry and Olivia had a few moments of semi-alone time – the privacy good and bad.

“Haha!” Olivia guffawed, tickled that Anne still liked her well enough to take her side. “Tattle-tale,” she added in a murmur, pushing Harry’s knee again. Every time she touched him, or he touched her, tingles ran throughout Olivia’s body. She was ashamed to realise the tingles were less caused by guilt and more by excitement.

“Oh, shut up,” Harry laughed, grabbing Olivia’s hand. He wanted to press his lips against his knuckles, but he couldn’t. Rather, he pushed her hand against her own knee, tauntingly murmuring “stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself.”

“Stop it!” Olivia laughed, her stomach fluttering at Harry’s childish antics. But don’t stop it, she pleaded to herself. As Anne and Gemma entered the room with the tray of snacks, Olivia shifted her body away from Harry and slowly dragged her hand across his fingers and back to her lap. She was almost certain Anne noticed her motion. A small smile formed on Harry’s mother’s lips as she watched Olivia. Olivia blushed, ducking her head as she sensed Anne’s gaze on her. She wished she knew what the woman was thinking. Or, on second thought, maybe she didn’t want to know.

“So!” Anne announced brightly, setting the food on the coffee table before settling into an armchair. “Eat up and let’s catch up! Olivia, it’s so lovely to see you! How is everything going with you? Are you still teaching?”

Olivia looked up at Anne, avoiding Harry’s inquisitive eyes. “Uhm… yes…” she answered. She didn’t want to divulge too much about her life, fearing Anne and Gemma’s reactions would be like Harry’s. “Things are… good…” she added, taking another drink and hoping she sounded convincing. But why wouldn’t she? Things were good. She had a great life, a fact she kept forgetting to tell herself.

“That’s a nice ring you’re wearing,” Gemma mused, though not unkindly as she glanced between Olivia and Harry. “When’s the big day?”

Harry turned his head to watch Olivia’s reaction to his sister’s question. Olivia chewed on her lower lip, looking uncomfortable by Gemma’s innocent inquiry. He wouldn’t admit it, but he liked seeing her discomfort. If there had been enthusiasm in her response, Harry wouldn’t think he had a chance to shove Ben to the side. He still wasn’t sure he could, but her apathy gave him hope.

Olivia shook her head. “Oh… we don’t have a date…” she answered with a shrug. It was a question she loathed. New Years Eve would mark a year since Ben proposed, and they hadn’t even started planning the wedding. People back home constantly asked about the date. She’d always surmised she and Ben would elope on a whim, find a commissioner to perform a set of simple vows on the lakeshore or top of a mountain. But they hadn’t even discussed a small ceremony. They’d both continued to live their lives and carry on as they had before Ben proposed. Olivia refused to admit it, but even before Harry returned to her life, she had a hard time picturing herself as Mrs Schafer. She loved Ben, but she wondered if she just wasn’t the marrying type. Now she found herself wondering if she just wasn’t the marrying Ben type.

“Oh!” Gemma replied, sounding surprised. “Thought you’d be right in the thick of the whole planning thing. Seems like it would be fun!”

Harry breathed out a quiet sigh. The last thing he wanted to discuss was Olivia’s upcoming nuptials. It surprised him she hadn’t settled on a date though. The Olivia he knew was a planner. She had every event, every date marked in the tattered calendar she carried around as though it was still the last century. It was odd to him she’d let such an important occasion go unplanned for so long.

Olivia heard Harry’s sigh. Her heart sank for him. How devastated would she be if she had to hear him discuss his own wedding plans? She took a sip of the sweet beverage, casting a covert glance in Harry’s direction. He held his hands together across his knees, and his gaze settled on the floor. Why was Olivia making it a habit to treat the men she loved with such blatant disregard?

“It’s a lot of work,” Olivia answered, struggling to keep her voice lighthearted. “But, anyway, enough about me! How’s things with you two? How are the cats?”

Harry snickered at Olivia’s subject change. He’d never known cats to be such an interesting topic, but his mother and sister thought otherwise. Before long, the two women were talking over one another, laughing as they shared anecdotes of their feline friends. Despite her own affinity for cats, Olivia remained uncharacteristically quiet on the subject, leaving the talking to Anne and Gemma.

Harry shifted his position on the sofa, scooting against the back of the couch and, in the process, slid closer to Olivia. She noticed his movement and glanced up at him. She offered him a wistful smile, tugging on his heartstrings. He nudged her knee. “I thought you were the crazy cat lady,” he gently teased, nodding towards his mother and sister.

Olivia smiled. He was trying so hard not to be awkward. “Eh, you didn’t seem to mind me talking about my cats that night at the bar…” Olivia pointed out. As she said the words, she wished she hadn’t. Talking about their past made the truth of their present much more difficult.

Harry chuckled, her comment awakening memories. “Guess I’m a sucker for girls obsessed with their cats,” he commented. He nudged her again. “Your cute smile was just a bonus,” he added with a small smile.

Olivia beamed at his words. A warm sensation coated her cheeks, but she didn’t look down like she wanted to. Instead, she kept her eyes locked with Harry’s. His earnest, sweet smile had just a touch of shyness, and the warmth from her cheeks rushed through her body. Her eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, and if his mother and sister hadn’t been sitting across from them, Olivia would have kissed Harry.

Harry watched as Olivia’s gaze flitted between his eyes and his lips. He was wearing her down, he could tell. She wanted to kiss him and he wanted to kiss her. He needed to feel her velvety soft lips against his, his tongue longed to dance one more dance with hers. He yearned to embrace her, their bodies melding together as one, fitting together with such perfection, as though designed for each other. His chest tightened as he watched her, as though his heart had so much hurt, it radiated the pain throughout his body. He couldn’t do this. He had to have all of her, or none of her.

“Hello!” Gemma laughed, her chuckle sounding confused as she waved her hands in front of Harry. “Are the two of you having a stroke or something?” She laughed again, but as Harry met his sister’s eyes, she raised an eyebrow. Of course she’d picked up on the vibe. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Olivia felt her entire body redden. How could she be so careless? One minute she was discussing her wedding, and the next she was staring at Harry as though she would devour him at any moment. She sickened herself.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” Olivia blurted out, standing up and bolting to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She hardly recognised the vulgar trollop staring back at her. A thought of Ben entered her mind, and a tear pricked in the corner of her eye. He didn’t deserve an awful woman like her. He was so caring, so giving and, while he wasn’t Harry, he wasn’t any less of a wonderful man. A wonderful man who she was treating like yesterday’s garbage, all because she was a terrible person who’d never even tried to get over her past love.

She exhaled a shaky breath and swiped at her eyes. If she were to be honest with herself, she didn’t know if her current relationship would survive her new influx of emotions. But regardless of the tug-of-war inside of her, she owed it to Ben to at least put up a halfway decent fight for their relationship. The only way she would be able to do that would be to stop seeing Harry.

The realisation was heart-breaking. She didn’t want to think about a life without Harry. He was her person, her rock, her warrior. She imagined them riding through every storm together, just to dance in the rain and see what the dawn would bring. Deep in her soul, she always held onto the belief they would find one another again. Now they had, but she’d made a promise to another man. The promise was cracking, dangerously close to breaking, but it was still a promise she had to uphold.

She watched her reflection, sighing as she met her red-rimmed eyes. She placed her hand on the doorknob, her feeling of dread akin to a breakup. What an odd sensation – they weren’t even together, and yet, Olivia felt as though she was about to break his heart again.

She stepped back into the living room, hoping nobody commented on her puffy eyes. “I’m sorry, I just had a text from my mother,” she lied to Anne and Gemma. They wouldn’t believe her. “We’re doing Christmas Eve stuff back at my sister’s, and the kids are all excited, so… I’d better go!” She avoided Harry’s eyes as she stepped over to Anne.

Anne frowned, her disappointment clear on her face. “Well, I wish we could have spent more time together!” she commented as she enveloped Olivia. “It was lovely to see you, dear. Take care of yourself, all right?”

“You too,” Olivia answered, giving Anne a forced smile. She stepped to Gemma, who had a cheeky grin on her face.

“Think I’ll be seeing you soon,” Gemma whispered into Olivia’s ear as the two girls hugged. Olivia pulled back and met Gemma’s eyes, who smirked knowingly. Olivia pursed her lips together, but she didn’t confirm nor deny.

“Take care,” Olivia answered instead, catching Harry’s eyes. He stood up as she walked past the couch, falling into step with Olivia as she made her way to the foyer.

He watched her as she pulled her jacket on, waiting for her to speak up, to tell him what happened in the bathroom to make her leave with such haste. Olivia didn’t speak a word, the silence deafening as she tied her winter boots. Finally, she straightened up and met Harry’s eyes. His heart broke at the sadness behind her red eyes, and he only wanted to pull her into his embrace and make everything right in her life, and his.

Olivia twisted the doorknob, pulling the door open. She stared into Harry’s eyes, realising it was the last time she would do so. She couldn’t keep toying with him as though he was nothing more than a piece in her sick, selfish game. “Bye Harry,” she whispered. It was a pathetic farewell, but she couldn’t give him what he deserved, words or otherwise. She hoped he would one day realise the same.

Notes

Comments

@En_1960
Aww thank you so much! I'm glad you loved them!

harambejtrump harambejtrump
6/10/19

These two stories are the best fan fic I have read. Thoroughly enjoyed. Laughed, cried everything throughout. Thank you x

En_1960 En_1960
6/7/19

I love that the big thing wasn’t that big, but to them it was the worst. I told you that though...I can see why he was worried and why she is so hurt by it... that he might have thought that of her and that everyone kept it from her. It sucks but I’m glad it wasn’t some big dramatic thing

Kammy. Kammy.
2/25/19

My babies

Kammy. Kammy.
2/25/19

@morrison_hotel
Thank you my love ♥️♥️♥️

harambejtrump harambejtrump
2/25/19