a million tiny little things

Fallon stood in front of the full-length mirror, turning and examining her outfit from every angle. Her stomach tumbled as she prepared for her date with Harry, but in a good way, like a Christmas morning anticipation. She still had a bounty of nerves inside, but she realised she was more excited than nervous. She still wondered if the self-deprecating part of her would rear its ugly head while out with Harry, but she continued to remind herself to stay in check and remain flirty, not emotional.

Harry said he would pick Fallon up at three o’clock, so she ensured she was waiting on her street view balcony well before three. She didn’t want Harry to come upstairs and see her small apartment. While she adored her apartment, with its bright bay window and decommissioned fireplace with a brick surround, it was little, cluttered and the abundance of pictures on the walls were too personal for him to see just yet.

She saw a black Range Rover pull up along the curb, but she waited until the driver vacated the car before she stood. Once she saw Harry, she stood up and descended the stairs, her excitement putting an extra bounce in her step. She gave him a bashful smile as they met at the bottom of the stairs.

Harry matched Fallon’s smile. After stumbling through the texting landmines, he was now more confident seeing Fallon. He continued to feel nervous, but his excitement was stronger. Seeing her bright smile was reassuring, like his friends were right and she really did like him.

“Hey,” Harry greeted, hesitating for a brief pause before enveloping Fallon into a hug. He couldn’t help it; she looked so cute in her jean cut-offs and Adidas runners, her hair in a tousled side braid. He loved the casual look, and it made him happy they were doing something low-key like mini-golf.

“Hi,” Fallon greeted, Harry’s hug surprising but pleasing her. He had on casual clothes, relieving Fallon. She didn’t think she dressed too understated, but Harry seemed to be an over-dresser. But instead, he wore in a simple grey T-shirt and tight jeans, his hair pulled into a man bun. She didn’t think the hairstyle would ever be something she would like, but Harry looked hot.

He grinned, tugging on the end of Fallon’s braid as they separated. “Catnip,” he teased. “I like it.” She was adorable.

“You know The Hunger Games?” asked Fallon, wishing Harry kept hold of her for a bit longer.

Harry rocked on his heels. “Mmm… I know enough,” he determined. He hadn’t read the books, but he watched the movies. He had a massive crush on Jennifer Lawrence, but he decided he wouldn’t share that with Fallon. “But yeah… it looks good…” he mused with a shy grin.

Fallon’s cheeks warmed, but she reminded herself to be the cute, coy girl and not the self-deprecating girl who wanted to argue with him. “Bet you could pull off a look like this, too,” she jibed instead.

Harry laughed, leading Fallon to his car. “Nah, I don’t think I would be as cute as you,” he affirmed, opening the passenger door. His face warmed as he complimented her, but he noticed her own cheeks redden as she settled into the passenger seat. It was an odd thing to have in common, but he liked that he wasn’t the only shy one.

“Have you been to Castle Park before?” asked Harry as he joined Fallon in the car. Harry hadn’t, but he perused the Yelp reviews the night before, hoping to find the perfect place to take Fallon. Castle Park was a kitschy sort of wonderland, with statues of fairy tale characters scattered about. It looked to be a bit dilapidated, but it added to the charm.

“I haven’t,” Fallon answered, pulling her seatbelt on. “But there’s a mini-golf course back home I used to go to all the time, so… I’m pretty skilled…”

Harry scoffed. “We’ll see,” he teased, flashing Fallon another grin as he pulled from the curb. “Where is back home?” he wondered. Harry refrained from Googling anything about her. He didn’t want Google to give him a preconceived notion about Fallon; he wanted to get to know her organically.

“Wyoming,” Fallon answered. “Near Casper…” She glanced over at Harry. He had no idea. “It’s in the middle,” she added with a laugh. She didn’t expect him to know – even full-blooded Americans had a tough time with facts about Wyoming.

Harry now wished he spent more time Googling Fallon. He didn’t know a thing about Wyoming. He thought Brokeback Mountain might have taken place there and almost mentioned the tidbit to Fallon but stopped himself. If all went well, she would find out about his love of romantic movies soon enough.

“I reckon it’s massively different from this, huh?” he asked instead, gesturing to the busy Los Angeles traffic. “Nice and quiet?”

Fallon nodded. “Yeah, it’s definitely a slower pace than here,” she agreed. “Nothing but wind and wolves,” she added with a chuckle.

Harry laughed. “Sounds heavenly,” he answered honestly. “When did you come here?”

Fallon didn’t want to make a habit out of talking about her mother, but since she was the reason Fallon was in Los Angeles, a mention was unavoidable. She reminded herself a few answered questions about her mother did not have to be embarrassing or pitiful. Just facts. “Uhm… my mom and I came here when I was thirteen,” she answered.

Harry winced. He wanted to know more about Fallon’s mother – mostly because her secrecy was intriguing – but he didn’t want Fallon to be uncomfortable. “Are you dad and step-mom still out there?” he asked, hoping mentioning her father wasn’t also a sensitive subject for Fallon.

Harry didn’t push for further information about her move to LA at such an impressionable age, relieving Fallon. It had been difficult for her, and the small town kid from Wyoming never fit in at the affluent Los Angeles high school. She hoped she could tell him one day, but not today.

“Yeah, they are.”

“Any siblings?”

She did, but he was someone else she didn’t want to tell Harry about just yet. “Older brother,” she answered, hearing the tightness in her voice. She cleared her throat. “Do you?” she asked him, pushing the conversation off herself and onto him.

Fallon was such a mystery. He could tell she didn’t want to talk about her mother, and now her brother also seemed like a hot button topic. He hoped she would find it in her to open up to him someday, but he wouldn’t push. “I have an older sister,” he answered. “And a step brother and step sister, but they’re older and I didn’t really grow up with them.”

“Are you close with your sister?”

Harry nodded. “I am,” he answered. He felt guilty stating the truth – obviously Fallon was not close with her own brother, otherwise she would want to talk about him. But she’d told him before she didn’t want or need his pity, so he wouldn’t vocalise his sympathy. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what happened with the Schwartz family.

“That’s nice,” Fallon answered. “Sisters are nice… teach you about makeup and boys and everything.”

“That’s what I learned most from Gemma,” Harry joked. He glanced sideways at Fallon and grinned as he heard her laughing. He liked that sound. “But you… I reckon you’ve done all right without a sister…” he added with a teasing smirk.

“With my makeup or with boys?” asked Fallon with another light laugh. This is what she liked – light small talk. Not a deep heart to heart.

“Well, the makeup,” Harry explained, blushing slightly. “And, I mean… maybe boys? I don’t know,” he snickered again. “But, like… you shouted at me in a public place, and here we are, so…” He shrugged before reaching out and touching her knee.

Fallon laughed. “That’s the secret,” she joked. “Just act like a psycho and they’ll be eating out of your hand!”

Shit, she was cute. “Well, it worked for me,” Harry teased.

Shit, he was cute. She felt her face warm again. “Well… good,” she answered. She liked Harry touching her knee. She wondered if he would hold her hand. “I guess I know what to do to keep your attention,” she added playfully. “I won’t, though…” she added as an afterthought. “No! I mean, I won’t act psycho! Not not keep your attention,” she corrected as she blushed.

Harry laughed. “Don’t worry,” he advised her, squeezing her knee. “You’ve definitely got my attention.”

**

“All right,” Harry announced as he parked the car in the almost empty parking lot. “You ready to lose?”

Fallon scoffed. “Uhm… no,” she answered haughtily. “Because I don’t lose!”

Harry laughed, stepping from the car. “You do now, Catnip,” he teased her, bumping Fallon’s hip as he joined her at the front of the car. “Don’t worry…” he added. “I’ll go easy on you. I’ll still win, but I’ll throw you a couple bones…”

“Such a gentleman,” Fallon replied, shaking her head. She wasn’t normally very competitive, but she needed to knock Harry and his adorable smugness down a peg. She had to win a silly game of mini-golf… and never, ever let him forget it.

Harry grinned, holding the door open for Fallon. “In more ways than one,” he told her, wondering if she would misconstrue his comment as a line, but then realising he didn’t care. They were already having a good time, joking and laughing with each other, and they only just got out of the car. They were off to a good start, Harry didn’t need to worry about sticking his foot in his mouth too much.

“Lucky me,” Fallon mused, her voice quiet as she stepped in the door, glancing over her shoulder at Harry and offering him a coy smirk. She grinned to herself as she turned away from Harry. The flirty little girl had decided to come out and play.

No, lucky me, Harry thought as he watched Fallon walk in front of him. Despite her short stature, Fallon had amazing legs, long and tanned, and her denim cut-offs accented her bottom without being racy. She was a perfect balance of cute and sexy.

“Lucky you is right,” Harry teased instead, resting his hand on Fallon’s lower back as he guided her towards the rental counter. He let his hand linger for a moment as they waited for help but reluctantly dragged it away as the cashier approached them. He didn’t want to be too much too soon.

Harry told the cashier they wanted to play two games, and the cashier placed the two clubs and two balls on the counter as Harry dug for his wallet. Fallon picked up one club and rearranged the other club and balls before nudging Harry.

“Look familiar?” she asked him in a low voice.

Harry glanced at the counter, blushing as he saw what Fallon had done. “Oh, shut up,” he told her good-naturedly, nudging her back as Fallon laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that! And anyway,” he added, picking up the other club and poking Fallon’s stomach with it. “It worked.”

“Well, it got me to the golf course, anyway,” Fallon teased, picking up the two balls and holding her hand out to Harry. “Oh! This isn’t meant to be pervy!” she told him, quickly dropping one ball into her other hand.

Harry guffawed. “Oh, sure…” he teased, though happy they could joke about his embarrassing faux pas. He reached for the ball, letting his fingers tickle against her palm for a moment. He wanted to grab her hand, but he refrained. For now.

“It wasn’t!” Fallon protested. Harry’s fingers against her palm radiated tingles through her body, and she wished he would take her hand. She wondered if she should take his. The flirty girl would, but Fallon was still at the helm.

“Mm-hmm…” Harry hummed. “Glad to know I’m not the only pervert,” he added, nudging his hand against hers as they walked towards the outdoor course. He held the door for her again and again, admired her shorts, before stepping into the warm sunshine.

Fallon rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say,” she teased. She stopped in front of a tall, ceramic archway with chipped paint and looked around. “Is this the start?” she wondered, looking up at the arch. It didn’t seem very stable.

Harry nodded. “I think just through there,” he told Fallon, touching her back again and directing her under the tilting arch. He stood on the green, facing Fallon. “Ladies first. And may the odds be ever in your favour,” he quipped, keeping with the Hunger Games theme. He held out his hand, intending on offering Fallon a friendly rivals handshake, but really, he just wanted to touch her again.

Fallon gripped Harry’s hand, feeling the heat from his palm against her skin. She didn’t want to let go, but after a few shakes, she released his hand.

“You know, your accent makes you sound more like Effie Trinket than you think,” she teased, setting her ball on the green and lining up her shot.

“Hey!” Harry protested.

Fallon laughed, taking her shot. Her silent prayers worked, and her ball ended up a shot away from the hole. She looked up at Harry, smirking as she leaned on her club. “Good luck, Effie,” she teased, watching Harry line up his shot. His tight jeans were an amazing fit, and she couldn’t help but admire his bottom.

Harry scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Couldn’t at least call me Gale?” he asked as he eyed the ball and hoped he would have a better shot than Fallon. “At least he’s cool!” He hit the ball, wincing as it flew past Fallon’s ball, through a small hole and bounced back to the start.

“Too much muscle,” Harry explained, flexing his arm. Fallon’s laugh was so cute, he would almost let her win if she laughed like that the entire time.

“Mm-hmm,” Fallon teased, tapping her ball into the hole. “You do have nice muscles, though,” she added unintentionally, bending down to retrieve her ball. She met his eyes and offered him a shy smile. She hadn’t meant to say the words, but they were true.

Fallon’s shy smile was adorable. “Well, thank you,” Harry answered, matching Fallon’s sky smile with one of his own. “I guess I’ll use them as an excuse if I keep duffing the ball,” he added, hitting the ball and landing closer to the hole than before.

“Duffing the ball?” Fallon repeated, stepping onto the low ledge around the green. She furrowed her brow. “Is that some weird slang from the Capitol I don’t know about?” she joked.

Harry tapped Fallon’s foot with his club. “It’s golf slang,” he corrected, knocking the ball into the hole. At least he didn’t end up too far behind Fallon. He scooped his ball from the hole and smirked at her. “Thought you were the big expert with your course back home,” he teased back.

“I’m too busy winning to learn the slang,” Fallon retorted. “Make sure you mark that down,” she told him, tapping the scorecard. “I’d hate to have to accuse you of cheating…” she added with a laugh.

“It’s just the first hole,” Harry reminded Fallon, marking down their scores. He glanced up at her, shaking his head. “You’re kind of cheeky,” he told her. Harry didn’t tell her, but he worried she would act quiet or reserved on their date. He hadn’t been sure what to expect, and her flirtatious silliness took him by surprise. He liked it. Hopefully it would last.

Fallon chuckled, walking with Harry to the next hole. “As long as that’s a good thing, I’ll take it,” she decided.

“It is,” Harry promised. He watched as she lined up her ball, her lips moving as she silently counted the spins on the windmill. She was trying very hard to win, and it was adorable. “Do do do do, do do do…” Harry joked, humming the Jeopardy countdown theme.

Fallon scowled at Harry. “You shush,” she instructed as Harry laughed. His humming made her lose count, but she didn’t want to start over and risk him teasing her. Actually, she didn’t mind his teasing. She bit her lip in concentration and tapped the ball towards the windmill. The ball almost made it under the sails, but bumped against the edge at the last moment, sending the ball off to the left.

Fallon frowned. “Do I get a redo?”

He guffawed. “No way in hell,” he answered, hip checking Fallon out of his way. “Step aside, Catnip… I’ll show you how it’s done,” he teased.

Fallon shook her head, stepping onto the ledge next to the windmill. She watched as Harry tried to time his shot and slowly dangled her club in front of the windmill. Harry looked up from the ball and laughed as he saw what she was doing.

“Move,” he laughed, assuming she wouldn’t listen to him. She laughed, and he swore his knees went weak. “Don’t make me throw a fit, because I will,” Harry warned. “And then you’ll feel bad!”

“Mmm… no I won’t,” Fallon teased, swaying the club. “C’mon, duffy boy… Thought you were going to show me how it’s done. This is just a handicap.”

Harry rolled his eyes. He had to make the shot now. He positioned his club and tried to ignore Fallon’s distraction. It was hard though. She was giggling as she dangled her club a few inches above the ground, and she sounded so cute, he almost couldn’t concentrate.

He hit the ball, watching as it rolled towards the windmill. Somehow, even with Fallon’s taunts and his own terrible skills, the ball whizzed past the sail, effortlessly sliding into the small opening. Harry turned to Fallon, unable to keep the triumphant grin off his face.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “How do you like that?” He sauntered to Fallon, the cheeky grin still on his face. “And you thought your little taunts would mess me up, yeah?” He couldn’t help himself and wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off her ledge. She giggled in his ear, her laughter telling him his action was okay.

Harry’s embrace surprised Fallon, and she struggled for a moment to find words. She felt giddy, and she didn’t want him to let her go. “It wasn’t a taunt,” she argued, laughing again as he set her down. “It was a guide.”

“Mm-hmm…” Harry replied, letting his arms linger around her waist. He pulled away just enough to gaze into Fallon’s eyes. The sudden urge to kiss her was overwhelming. Fighting the urge, he quickly released her. They were still in the first act of their date; he didn’t want to move too fast and scare her away.

Fallon watched Harry’s eyes dart back and forth between her eyes and her lips. She was almost certain he wanted to kiss her, and she wondered what he would do if she made the first move. As soon as the thought entered her mind, Harry pulled away. Fallon felt a twinge of disappointment, but Harry’s bashful smile eased the letdown.

“All right… I guess I have to tackle this opening again,” Fallon said, breaking the eye contact and focusing on her ball. She turned to Harry. “No distractions… right?” she asked, assuming he would taunt her as she had taunted him.

Harry let out a chuckle. “Sure,” he answered, rolling his eyes. He would not let Fallon be the only one playing the cute distraction game.

Fallon lined up her shot and drew back her arm, about to tap the ball, when Harry jumped behind her and wrapped his arms around her torso. Fallon yelped with surprise, unable to move her arms under Harry’s strong grasp.

“What are you doing?” she laughed, wiggling her arms but not making a strong effort to escape his hold. Hugs from Harry were quickly becoming one of her favourite things.

Harry echoed Fallon’s laughter. He didn’t think she was trying very hard to get away from him. He kept his arms tight around her body, enjoying the closeness. “This is your handicap,” he mumbled against her hair, tightening his grip. “Go ahead, braggy girl… take your shot.”

“I think you’re handicapped,” she teased him, shaking her shoulders against Harry’s torso. “You’re stronger than you look, Effie,” she added, wiggling her wrists – the only part of her arms she could move.

“Compliments will only get you so far,” Harry teased back. “You going to go? Or forfeit?” He was beginning to think Fallon enjoyed their embrace as much as he did.

Fallon pursed her lips, concentrating on the shot. She flicked her wrists, tapping the ball and grinned as it rolled into the opening. The ball meandered out the other side and joined Harry’s ball on the second green. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Good try with the handicap though,” she teased, tilting her head to look at Harry. She couldn’t think of anything but her desire to kiss him.

Harry tickled Fallon’s elbows before releasing her. He smirked down at her. “Guess I’m something like a good luck charm, yeah?” he teased, rubbing her lower back affectionately. He couldn’t stop touching her.

Fallon rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny the tingle of butterflies taking flight in her stomach with every touch Harry gave her. “Well, me too, then… obviously,” she told him. His distraction was better – only because it involved touching – but she would keep that to herself.

“Obviously,” Harry echoed. He didn’t know if it was too soon, but he couldn’t help himself any longer. He boldly took Fallon’s hand in his before he led her around the windmill to their waiting balls. When she gently squeezed his fingers in response, he grinned, relieved his action was okay.

Fallon’s entire body jumped, startled and surprised when Harry took her hand. She squeezed his fingers, elated he took her hand. But as he led her around the windmill, she realised they would have to let go of each other to finish the game.

Harry gave Fallon’s hand a squeeze before pulling away. He didn’t want to let go, but he didn’t think he could win the game still holding onto her. “What is this one, par three?” he asked.

“Five,” Fallon lied, letting her fib hand in the air for a moment before laughing. “Five for me, I mean,” she corrected. “Three for you.”

“I don’t need five,” Harry scoffed. He hoped he was right. He hit the ball, frowning as it bounced over the hole and ricocheted off the barrier. It came to a stop close to where it started. “Okay… maybe I do need five,” he corrected with a chuckle. He rejoined Fallon, finding her hand again and giving her a gentle squeeze.

“Or six or seven,” quipped Fallon, enjoying feeling their fingers together for a moment before setting up her shot. Effortlessly, she punted the ball into the hole, but the momentum caused the ball the bounce right back out of the shallow hole.

“Ugh!” Fallon scoffed incredulously. “That’s not even fair! I think I’m allowed to just tap it back in…” She looked up at Harry with an innocent smile before toeing the ball back into the hole.

Harry reached over, grabbing Fallon by the hand and pulling her towards him. “I don’t think so, cheater girl,” he murmured, enveloping her into an embrace. He caressed the side of her face, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. Fallon’s eyes were wide and her gaze flickered between his eyes and his lips. She wanted to kiss him, he knew. And he, too, wanted to kiss her.

The loud shrieks of a few kids a couple of holes over snapped Harry out of his trance. He couldn’t kiss Fallon here. It was too open, too public, and he didn’t think he could keep his hands an acceptable PG once he kissed Fallon. That ass was screaming for a grab.

Harry cleared his throat, giving Fallon a crooked smile before pulling away. “Get your ball, Catnip,” he teased, giving Fallon’s braid a tug. He would kiss her soon enough.

Notes