Give Me Love (Finn Harries)

Chapter 7

(A/N): Hey guys! Sorry for the long hiatus :'( please comment, vote, follow and like!

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Nearly 2 weeks later, I was sitting in bed on my laptop, while blasting some music through my headphones. Sam was out, doing some form of prank for his latest video, so I was home alone. Nothing much had really happened since we’d been to Nando’s, apart from a few nights out, and Skyping with some friends and family back home. I wanted so desperately for Finn to say that he liked me, but as time ran on, it seemed less and less likely that he even had feelings for me in the first place. Suddenly, I felt a body jump on my bed and displace all of the weight. I freaked out, heart beating fast as I snapped my head up, to see that it was just Finn. Speak of the devil.

“Jesus Christ, Finny,” I sighed, ready to throw a whole slew of offensive language at him, but he gave me a grin so warm that I couldn’t help but smile shyly back.

“Sorry about that,” he said, not sounding apologetic at all. “I just couldn’t resist.”

“I’m sure you couldn’t, Finny,” I retorted sarcastically, training my eyes back on my laptop as I scrolled through my Tumblr and mumbling absently, “Sam’s out.”

“I know, Liv,” he mumbled, kicking his shoes off and tucking himself into my bed, his head rested softly on my shoulder. “I came to hang out with you.”

I smiled genuinely; no one had really come to hang out with just me. I tended to tag along with Sam a bit. “Really?” I asked.

“Really,” he affirmed, “What are you doing?”

“Just checking up on Facebook and such,” I mumbled absently. “Nothing really exciting.”

Suddenly, he sat up excitedly, a bright idea popping into his head.

“Do you know what we should do?” he grinned, pulling my laptop in his hands and typing in a URL that I couldn’t quite see. Within seconds, the main page for Twitter appeared. “We’ll make you a Twitter account!”

I groaned, remembering the countless times I had tried to work that useless website. To be fair, Chris had set one up for me, not bothering to tell me how the site worked. Maybe Finn’s different. “Fine,” I sighed. No, Finn is different. An absent smile registered on my lips, and I knew that Finn was good for me. We may not have been romantically involved, and truth be told, I didn’t think we ever would be, but he was kind, caring, and he made me feel special.

He filled in my details, and properly showed me how to work Twitter. Surprisingly, it was easy.

‘@FinnHarries: I taught this poo how to use Twitter. Her name’s @OlivePepper, give her a cheeky follow!’

Within minutes of Finn tweeting those few words, my follower count rose by hundreds, thousands, even. “You have some bloody dedicated fans,” I noted. Sam, Marcus, Jack, Alfie and a whole bunch of other people I’d met followed me promptly, tweeting their own fans to follow me. By the end of the hour, I had 8,336 followers, and counting.

“Not bad for a first day,” Finn smirked. His green eyes bored into mine, rain tapping gently on the window outside. He brushed a loose piece of hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear just as beetroot blush covered my entire face. “Has anyone ever told you that you look so cute with those glasses?”

If I wasn’t bright red before, I certainly was now, a shy smile plastering my face as I fiddled with the simple gold band on my right index finger. Finn tilted my chin up, placing a sweet kiss on my lips. A thousand butterflies erupted in the very pit of my belly, numerous knots tying themselves at once. He tasted like freshly brushed teeth, and strangely, chocolate. However odd the mixture was, I loved it. I entangled my hands in his chestnut hair, breaking away for a few seconds, resting my forehead on his. An uncontrollable grin appeared on both of our faces. “I’ve wanted to do that ever since I laid eyes on you, Liv,” he murmured, placing his hands on the small of my back, pulling me closer with one swift movement. Before I could reply, his lips found mine again, and I could sense the truth in his words. I should’ve stopped him, told him that that wasn’t how things worked, but something stopped me. The laptop had been cast aside, along with all of the previous day. I could feel myself growing weaker under his touch, my carapace faltering along with it. He was so domineering that I couldn’t bear to peel myself away from his warmth. But I had to. I wasn’t that kind of girl. Well, not anymore.

Regretfully, I pulled away from his embrace, losing that sense of warmth immediately, only to be replaced by coldness where his touch was once on my body.

“Come to lunch with me,” Finn said, both commandingly and softly.

I nodded, “Just let me get changed first.”

“You could go naked, for all I care. In fact, I’d prefer it if you did,” he smirked, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re quite cheeky,” I remarked, grinning all the same as I got up. I must’ve looked a fright, my hair in a lazy side plait, glasses on, still in my powder pink, spotty pyjamas. After shooing Finn out of the room, I made my outfit choice for the day: a pair of light blue jeans, a checked, button up shirt, and a pair of plain black jandals, or flip-flops, in England. Soon, we were out the door, and I was inwardly contemplating whether or not I was brave enough to hold his hand, but decided against it. He might think that I’m desperate, or needy, or even worse, weird. We’d only just kissed, it wasn’t as if we were dating. Nerve-wracking questions attacked my brain; was he going to ask me on a date? Did he actually, properly like me? My palms grew clammy, knots multiplying in the pit of my stomach.

Finn must’ve had a calming effect on me, because as soon as he wrapped his arm around my waist, everything seemed so much simpler. He guided me to a generic bakery, ordering something for me while I sat at the window, watching life in London go by. Before I knew it, Finn had brought back a tray, containing the bakery essentials: a sausage roll, a mince and cheese pie, and a large slab of delicious looking brownie.

“You should’ve let me help pay,” I said, sounding a lot less commanding than I had hoped. Finn had that effect on me, whenever I looked into his green eyes, flooded with curiosity; I seemed to go weak at the knees.

“That’s not what a gentleman would do on a date,” he smirked. Date?

“Who said I wanted to go on a date with you?” I teased, grinning all the while. Someone like him wants to date someone like me? The idea seemed unfathomable, unreachable, and just plain silly.

“I know you were thinking it,” he winked, a short chortle following suit. He can read me like a book, I thought. The next hour passed too quickly, and in all honesty, it was the most fun I’d ever had. Finn was everything I could ever hope for in a man: kind, caring, gentlemanly. Sometimes, I was taken aback by how Finn was so chivalrous. He’d open doors for me, saying, “Ladies first!”

Or he’d offer his jersey when I got cold. Sighing, I realised that I was so much happier here. London was where I was meant to be.