Summertime & Butterflies

“How many do you have, anyway?” asked Olivia off-handedly, tracing her fingers lightly along Harry’s array of tattoos along his arm. Some of them were quite different, and she didn’t understand most of them, but having several herself, she knew they were usually a personal thing that weren’t for others to understand. She couldn’t help but wonder, however, if any of them were tributes to ex-girlfriends.

“Hmm?” Harry asked, looking over his shoulder at Olivia. The two of them were lying across his bed, sprawled out on their stomachs as they attempted to regain their strength after rounds one and two. As they hadn’t bothered recovering their clothes from the floor, Olivia was sure round three was imminent. And she wasn’t complaining in the slightest.

“Oh,” he answered for himself, realising Olivia was speaking of his tattoos. “Erm… shit, like… over sixty, anyway,” he answered with a chuckle, rolling onto his side to peer at his arm. “Maybe more,” he added as a second thought. “They’re kind of addicting,” he said with a shrug, almost apologetically.

“Hmm,” Olivia mused, her hand finding its way down his torso. “These ones are my favourites,” she commented, outlining his fern tattoos along his hips with her fingers. “Especially the stems,” she added teasingly, her fingers lightly massaging below his navel, millimeters away from his manhood.

Harry chuckled at her coy movement. “Oh, those ones?” he asked innocently, jerking his hips up and reiterating his comment. His semi-flaccid bulge, barely covered by the light bedsheet, bumped up against her hand.

Olivia laughed. “Brat,” she told him affectionately, letting her hand lightly graze across him before kissing him softly.

“I’m just checking, sweetheart,” Harry teased back, gently grasping her by the chin and returning her kiss. He propped himself upon one elbow, touching Olivia’s side. “I’m partial to this one,” he told her, rubbing his thumb along Olivia’s side, where the silhouettes of five small sparrows flew. He focused on the one closest to her breast, his thumb meandering across the side of her chest.

“You’re ridiculously sexy,” he told her, sounding breathless and in awe of her sex appeal. “Why hasn’t anyone snatched you up?”

Olivia snickered at his comment. “Just waiting for you, I guess,” she quipped flirtatiously. The words hung heavy in the air after she spoke them. Her time with Harry didn’t make her any less single than she was before she met him. It wasn’t something they discussed, and Olivia didn’t expect them to. Holiday rendezvous didn’t turn into anything more than memories.

Harry smiled at Olivia but didn’t answer. His hand crept across her back, gripping her other breast and pulling her closer to him. He pressed a sweet kiss against her forehead, tucking a lock of Olivia’s hair behind her ear before resting his forehead against hers.

“I’m glad,” Harry murmured, and again, Olivia felt as though he has more to say. And again, Harry simply smiled at Olivia, keeping whatever thoughts he had going on in his mind to himself.

“You’ll have to apologize to your sister for me monopolizing all of your time here,” he added, uttering a chuckle, indicating he wasn’t sorry at all. “I really couldn’t help it,” he laughed, his hand reaching further under Olivia’s body and giving her breast a light squeeze.

“It’s okay… Neither could I,” Olivia confessed with a smirk, kissing Harry’s wrist teasingly.

“Did I wreck a lot of plans?” he wondered, fluttering light kisses along Olivia’s forehead and cheek.

“No,” Olivia answered honestly. Life at Stephanie’s house was chaotic but ran like a well-oiled machine, and despite being her guest, Olivia had to fit herself into the puzzle. “We’re going to Disney tomorrow, and I’d ditch you for that, anyway,” she told him, her tone light but her words serious. The best part about her brother in law playing hockey in Los Angeles was the easy commute to the Happiest Place on Earth. A visit to Stephanie’s home was never complete without a Disney day or two. She wished Harry could come with her, but had a feeling a crowded place like Disneyland was a place he avoided.

“I don’t blame you,” Harry answered, sounding distracted though impressively keeping the conversation going as he covered Olivia’s shoulders with his warm lips. “Disney’s pretty cool…” he added, his fingers finding Olivia’s nipple. He rubbed her sensitive bud between his fingers thoughtfully, his lips working their way north. He gently bit Olivia’s earlobe, causing her to utter a satisfied sigh.

“Mm-hmm,” Olivia breathed out, resting her head on her folded arms, enjoying the sensations flickering throughout her body. His stamina reminded Olivia why she found younger men so attractive.

“Are you just going for the day tomorrow?”

Shit. That was a question. Olivia could think of nothing but how good he was making her feel. She exhaled, replaying Harry’s question through her impassioned mind for clarification. “Uhm… two days,” she managed to reply. “Back late Tuesday.”

Harry stopped kissing Olivia’s back, straightening up. “Shit…” he commented slowly, puffing out a sigh. “I have to go to New York for a few days. Flying out on Tuesday night,” he added, sighing again. “But… I’m back Saturday afternoon, so…” he trailed off, sounding hopeful.

It was Olivia’s turn to pull away from Harry. “I leave Saturday morning,” she told him, almost incredulously. It took her a moment to realise this was the last time she’d be seeing Harry. She briefly entertained the idea of blowing off Disneyland with Stephanie and the kids, but despite how easy-going Stephanie had been about Olivia spending so much of her time with Harry, she would draw the line at Olivia backing out of the trip. Not to mention, something told her Harry wouldn’t let her either.

“What?!” he asked, sounding as incredulous as Olivia had. “I… I thought you’d be leaving on Sunday.”

Olivia shook her head at Harry. “No… early on Saturday,” she told him, attempting to discreetly swallow the lump forming in her throat.

“Fuck…” he commented quietly, angling his body closer to Olivia. She rolled onto her side, pressing her chest against his. Avoiding his eyes, she tucked her head under his chin. She didn’t want Harry to see how upset the revelation made her.

“Yeah,” she mumbled in agreement, hearing her voice waver. Harry heard it too, and responded by hugging Olivia tightly against his body.

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart,” Harry told her, his voice overly cheerful as he tried to reassure Olivia. “We’ll text, and call... Facetime… I’ll even let you send me naughty pictures,” he added, swatting his hand playfully against her bottom in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Olivia let out a short, humourless snicker. “Yeah,” she answered shortly. While the intentions were good – and maybe they would text, and call from time to time – it wouldn’t be the same as being curled up in one another’s arms, every inch of their bodies pressed together as they shared warm kisses. It wouldn’t be long before the efforts died down and one of them – and truthfully, Olivia suspected it would be Harry – found themselves in someone else’s arms, easily forgetting about the Spring Fling.

“We will,” Harry assured Olivia, hearing the uncertainty in her laugh.

“I agreed with you.” Olivia snapped, the cold tone of her voice surprising her. She let out a shaky sigh and looked up at Harry. “I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I just… don’t want to leave,” she confessed to him.

“I don’t want you to either,” Harry told her, brushing her brusque tone aside.. “I… I think I…” He trailed off; sighing quietly to himself as he tenderly massaged his fingers against Olivia’s bare back.

“You think what?” asked Olivia, silently willing him to tell her what he was thinking, and wondering if it was the same thing she was thinking. But what she was thinking was crazy, so it couldn’t be the same.

She heard him utter a laugh deep in his throat and felt his lips press against the top of her head. “Oh… nothing,” he answered vaguely. “Just… think I’m gonna miss you a bit…” He laughed, attempting to sound light but his words heavy with emotion.

“You are?” asked Olivia, smiling at his confession.

“Well yeah… of course I am,” Harry answered, sounding surprised. He exhaled softly as he continued to absentmindedly draw circles and shapes across Olivia’s back. “Can’t do this… or this… or this… with you so far away,” he told her, pressing his lips against her forehead, cheek and collarbone with each ‘this’ uttered. “Can’t do this either,” he added cheekily, grabbing her by the bottom and pulling her hips towards him.

“Is that all you’re going to miss?” wondered Olivia, knowing full well it wasn’t, but wanting to hear the reassurance from him.

“Course,” Harry answered sarcastically. “I thought it was pretty obvious that I’m just all about getting in your pants…”He pulled away from Olivia, propping himself up on one elbow as he studied her face. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured softly, “you know it’s more than that.”

“I know it is…” she answered. “But then… but how can it be?” Her lips jutted out into a childish pout. She hadn’t wanted to bring up any of the “what is this” feelings she had – thoughts she’d had since the first night she met him - but they began tumbling out of her. “I mean, you’re here and I’m there. Sure, we can text and shit but… it’s kind of fruitless labour, isn’t it?”

Harry’s face twisted with confusion. “Why?” he asked, sounding dumbfounded. “I mean… I want to… and you want to. Right?”

“Of course I do,” she replied quickly. “It’s just… ugh, never mind,” she decided, waving her fingers dismissively. “Don’t worry about it…”

“No, no, no,” Harry told her, tipping her chin up and forcing Olivia to look at him. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

Olivia sighed, blowing her bangs off of her forehead in frustration – frustration at the situation, and frustration at Harry for so easily being able to pick up on her girlish signals. She’d never met a man who could so simply realise when a girl was upset, and call her out on it. She’d learned that sometimes things were better left unsaid, and he didn’t make that easy. “It’s just... I mean, we’ll text a bit and stuff, but it won’t be long before you meet someone and forget all about the chick from Canada. How can I keep you interested when I’m not even here?”

“I really don’t see that happening,” Harry laughed. Olivia didn’t understand what was so funny about her voicing her concerns about keeping up an effort with Harry. She frowned at him, sitting up straight and criss-crossing her legs, keeping the sheet tight around her body.

“But what if it does?” she asked, blowing out a long sigh, aware as to how overly dramatic she was being, but being unable to ice it down.

“What if you meet someone?” Harry countered, propping himself up on an elbow and looking at Olivia expectantly.

Olivia scoffed loudly at Harry’s comment, snickering to herself. “That most definitely won’t happen,” she promised him.

“Why?” he pressed. “You’re gorgeous, you’re funny, you’re kind. Someone will notice you, and sweep you off your feet, and you’ll forget all about me.”

“No, I won’t,” Olivia mumbled, looking down at her hands. It made sense to her that he would forget about her – he was an extraordinary man living in an extraordinary world. He could easily be distracted from her. Her from him, not so much.

“Hmm…” Harry pondered, rubbing Olivia’s knee through the thin sheet. “What would you say… if someone back home asked you on a date?”

“No one asks me on a dates.”

“Stop being a brat,” he scolded her. “I did,” Harry reminded her. Olivia rolled her eyes at him, but she supposed he was right. “Let’s say… someone really good and kind wants to take you out for dinner. He’s not one of those asshole guys, he’s a good catch. He’s smart and a gentleman and lives in your town. What would you say?”

Olivia was quiet. She knew exactly what she would say to the fictional man, but she was wary to admit her answer to Harry. “What do you want me to say?” she asked him with a long shrug.

“What do you want to say?” Harry countered her question with a question, annoying Olivia the same way she’d annoyed him at the beach. She smiled softly at the memory – the day easily being one of her top five best days of her life.

Olivia sighed, blowing her lips out. “I don’t want to say… unless it’s the same as you,” she admitted to him.

Harry laughed, pinching her thigh playfully. “Okay, ask me the same question then,” he suggested confidently.

“You’re annoying,” Olivia commented with a smile, but she obliged. “But… okay. So… you’re at this fancy pants party and this skinny, leggy model thing is buzzing like a bee around you. She’s super cute and laughs at all of your lame ass jokes” -

“Hey!”

- “and lives in LA. She wants to go for dinner with you. What do you say?”

Harry rolled onto his back, tucking his arm under his head as he pretended to mull over Olivia’s scenario. “Hmm,” he began, tapping his fingers thoughtfully. “Well, first of all… I think the most important question, really… what’s a pants party?”

“Shut up,” Olivia sighed. Harry laughed loudly at his own joke before rolling back over again, pushing Olivia onto her back and settling himself atop her.

“You really want to know what I’d say?” he asked her, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers. Olivia held his gaze, her heart racing. She almost said no, fearing the unknown, but she nodded.

“I’d say, thanks leggy model, but I’ve already got a super cute girl who laughs at all of my hilarious jokes,” Harry began, conveniently changing Olivia’s words around in order to come out better. “And she might live far away, but I don’t want to have dinner… or lunch, or breakfast, or snacks, or tea, with anyone but her. Cause… I’m kind of fond of her…” He paused, rubbing his thumb gently along Olivia’s lip, down her chin and back again.

“And… I hope she doesn’t want to eat food with anyone but me, either,” he added, laughing softly at his choice of words, but his eyes were wide, seeming timid by his declaration.

His testimony sent a flurry of fluttering through her stomach - she hadn’t expected him to respond so passionately. His eyes were shining and his dimpled smile beamed across his face.

“Really?” she asked softly, her own smile mirroring his.

Harry let out a quiet chuckle. “Yes, really,” he promised her. “Stop being so doubtful, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry,” Olivia confessed. “I just… I don’t want to eat with anyone else either,” she told him, snickering at Harry’s choice of words. “But I… didn’t expect you to say the same,” she admitted to him.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because…” Olivia paused, thinking over her words carefully. She wasn’t meaning to come off as a self-deprecating brat, but her feelings for Harry terrified her. They’d come on exceedingly fast and hard, and she was scared – not only about how strong her feelings could get, but how painful the aftermath could be.

“I’m just me,” she told him with a shrug. “I mean… you could date Taylor Swift if you wanted to, and…” She watched his eyes flicker as she mentioned the pop star’s name, and she just knew…

“You did date her, didn’t you?” Olivia realised, laughing lightly at the fact, and wondering how she was to compete against someone like her.

“Well… forever ago,” he admitted, sounding ashamed at the fact. “For a bit… It was stupid… and I’ll tell you… I didn’t feel like this. Not even close. Not ever,” he confessed quietly. He balanced his weight on his arms, his shining eyes exploring Olivia’s soul.

“I like that you’re you,” he told her earnestly. “I don’t care about your job, or your height, or where you live. I like you. Why is that so hard for you to get?” he wondered, sounding dejected as he rolled back onto his side, keeping his arms around Olivia.

“Because I’m scared,” Olivia told him, her voice nearly inaudible. “I’m scared… of liking you too much… and getting hurt, and I…”

“Sweetheart,” Harry mumbled, interrupting her with a kiss. Knowing it would be one of their last kisses, his honey-sweet peck inflicted pain on her, deep inside her core. Her heart ached for the boy against her lips, the only boy she ever wanted against her lips. “Remember when I said you could trust me?

“Yeah.”

“Trust me.”

Notes