Summertime & Butterflies

Twelve

"And finally...," Harry stepped out the door and gestured to the small, curved pool surrounded by lush, vibrant foliage. If she hadn't just seen the houses surrounding Harry's, Olivia would think they were in the middle of nowhere. Privacy in the middle of Los Angeles seemed to be an oxymoron, but Harry had it.

"It's great," she determined, smiling at Harry, who seemed bashful giving Olivia the tour of his house – or maybe he was still bashful from his chicken fiasco. But she'd insisted, and like the gentleman he was, he obliged. He'd led her through the entire house, save for the master suite. Olivia couldn't help but wonder if she'd see it later.

"It's pretty nice," he agreed, watching as Olivia crouched down to stick her hand in the water, testing the temperature. "That's a bit tempting," he mused with a grin, stepping towards Olivia and placing his hands on her shoulders. He gave her a quick nudge as though he was about to push her into the pool. She instinctively braced her hand against the concrete and looked up at Harry, trying to glare.

"You wouldn't even," she challenged him, reaching up and grabbing Harry's hand from her shoulder and giving it a tug, pretending to pull him into the water. He didn't budge, but tightened his grip on her hand. Olivia used his hand as a crutch and stood up.

"I'm not sure if I trust you," she confessed teasingly. Harry let out a chuckle, wrapping his arms around Olivia's waist and pulling her close.

"Sweetheart, I promise... you can trust me," he told her, pressing a kiss against her forehead. His words insinuated so much more than just a lighthearted jab about being pushed into the water.

"I know," Olivia realised, resting her head against Harry's chest and draping her arms around his waist. With his comforting arms around her, Olivia felt at home with Harry. Still, the thought of her imminent departure from Los Angeles lingered in her mind.

Harry smiled down at Olivia, "Good," he told her, swaying his hips as he heard a song in his head that Olivia wasn't privy to. He took her hand, holding it against his chest as he hummed the song and took her other hand, placing it from his waist to his shoulder. Olivia laughed as Harry led her into a spin before pulling her back to him, continuing to hum. She couldn't pinpoint the song, but it didn't matter.

"Sorry!" Harry whispered, his socked foot stomping Olivia's bare toes. She laughed again, ducking under his arm as he spun her. He directed her to turn the wrong way, causing their joined hands to break apart as they tried to regain their proper form.

"You're a terrible dancer," Olivia teased Harry, her statement coated with affection. 

His mouth dropped open, pretending to be aghast at her comment. "What!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm wonderful!" As though to prove his statement, he moved his hand down Olivia's back, lowering her into a dip. But his socked feet against the concrete didn't provide support and when his foot slid out from behind him, he couldn't keep his grip on Olivia and she dropped. Her bottom bumped against the concrete and Harry's eyes widened as he watched his dance partner tumble.

"Oh, shit! Are you okay?" he questioned, kneeling beside Olivia. "I'm so sorry!"

Olivia laughed, leaning back on her hands and throwing her head back as she cackled loudly. The fall had surprised her, but hadn't hurt. Seeing Harry crouched above her, his face concerned as though she'd just been in a drastic accident, tickled her, though warmed her heart at the same time.

"I told you that you were terrible," she teased him, touching his cheek with affection. Harry snickered at Olivia before bracing his hands against the cement on either side of her.

"That's what I get for trying to be adorably sweet, huh?" he mused, leaning down towards her. "You laugh at my cooking... laugh at my dancing... What am I going to do with you?" He wondered, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear and staring into her eyes inquisitively.