Give Me Love (Finn Harries)

Chapter 1

(A/N): Hey guys! This is the first chapter of my Finn Harries fanfic, called ‘Give Me Love’. Thank you so much for reading I love you all!

…

My nails clung to the unfortunate, middle-aged woman sitting next to me, nerves shooting through every available vein in my body. My brown hair had clumped into the shape of a rats nest at the top of my head, ears popping from the altitude we were at. I didn’t like flying at the best of times; a metal, flying death cage, somehow, didn’t seem too appealing. I couldn’t believe that I had flown all the way from New Zealand to London, all by myself. I imagined mum at home, rested in her favourite arm chair while dad made her a cup of tea, a pang of home sickness shooting through me at an alarming rate. Wheels trundled on the tarmac, the plane shaking with the impact placed upon it. I exhaled a shaky sigh, releasing my grip from the lady’s arm, slowly regaining my natural heartbeat. But what if it’s awkward? I was going to live with one of my cousins, Sam Pepper. We had been stuck at the hip, he and I, when we were younger. Well, before I moved to the middle of nowhere, otherwise known as New Zealand, when I was 6. He was about 4 years older than me, but age never really did seem to make a difference. We’d seen each other on the odd Christmas, but other than that, we hadn’t talked much since I’d left England.

“Ma’am,” a stewardess coughed, interrupting my mini panic-attack. I quickly noticed that everyone had already exited the metal death trap, so I did the same, filing through customs at double quick speed. Once I’d acquired my suitcases, containing my entire life in the 2 black, non descript trundle bags, I searched around Heathrow for my cousin.

“Ollie?” Sam. I could tell his voice anywhere, a South Londoner accent that seemed to ring out in the cavernous airport. I turned around, seeing that Sam no longer had that bright green hair that I’d seen a few Christmases ago, and threw my arms around him. “Can’t… Breathe…” he exaggerated, grinning nonetheless.

“When did you get these?” I asked, loosening my grip around him so I could admire the artwork on his arms.

“Ages ago, Liv,” he said, brushing off the topic as quick as it had arisen. He wrapped an arm over my shoulder, slinging my backpack over his back and guiding me towards the terminal.

“So what’s new with you, Sam?”

It was a big question to ask, since the last time I’d seen him, he was working as a zookeeper, and had neon green hair that stuck up at the back.

“Nothing much, really,” he stated dismissively, shrugging his shoulders just as we were slightly blinded by the mid-May British sun. “What about you?”

“Same, same, I guess,” I stated pensively, shielding my eyes. I was used to raining and awful weather, it being so close to winter in New Zealand. “Noah’s just started university.”

Noah was my twin brother, and best friend, although he and Sam never really got on like we did. “Always the smart one, Noah was.”

“Excuse me,” I laughed, softly jabbing him in the rib. We’d gotten to his car by this point; a puny, red vehicle that could barely fit me, Sam and my 3 bags, but once we’d got going, we’d reached London within the hour, talking about our lives since we saw each other last. Sam told me that he’d done next to nothing, while I told him the exact same. He wanted to know why I’d left home, but I honestly couldn’t think of an answer. It wasn’t as if I was there for a career, because I’d just snagged a menial job at Topshop that wouldn’t get me very far, and I wasn’t there to travel, mostly because I had no money. I was just there. Soon, we’d pulled up to his apartment block, a standard grey building with a few bright scribbles here and there.

“It’s nothing much, really, but it’s home,” Sam said, hauling one of my bags over his back with an audible heave. Back home, flats like this weren’t very abundant, so it was a wonder for me to be living here. Within a few minutes, we were at his flat, number 44b on floor 5. Don’t forget that number, Olive, I told myself. Olive was my full first name, although I had a ton of nicknames that had gathered over the last 18 years: Liv, Ollie, Livvy, Viv, Lee. The list was endless. People only really called me Olive if I was in trouble, though. Number 44b on floor 5, Number 44b on floor 5, Number 44b on floor 5.

-

Hours later of sleeping, unpacking and calling home, Sam woke me up, saying that we were going for dinner with a few of his mates. Quickly, I pulled on my go-to black skinny jeans, with my white, loose swing singlet with the faint black outline of a heart on it. I slipped on my red converse, donning my army green, mid-thigh trench coat that zipped up, before heading out of the door, arm in arm with Sam through the streets of central London. He held a fancy camera in his free hand, looking straight down the barrel of the lens and talking to it.

“Hi guys,” he started, despite my bewildered looks. “This is my cousin, Ollie. Say hi, Liv!”

“Who am I saying hi to?” I asked, confused as ever.

“My subscribers!” he prompted.

“Subscribers?” Suddenly, I remembered mum telling me something about Sam becoming ‘Internet famous’, or something along those lines. “Oh right!” I cried. “On YouTube, or something, eh?”

“As you can see, Olive Rose Pepper is the best cousin you can get,” Sam teased, his famed guffaw following not long afterwards.

“I most definitely am,” I said proudly, lifting my head up.

“Anyways, we’re going to Wagamama’s for a meal,” he started. “And since Ollie just got here this morning, she’s going to meet everyone!”