Summertime & Butterflies

Thirty

When Olivia woke the following morning, she rolled over to snuggle against Harry, as she tended to do during the quietness of the dawn. When she reached for him, it surprised her to find his side of the bed empty. While Harry often woke earlier than Olivia, he'd tossed and turned so much during the night, she was certain he hadn't slept and wouldn't be crawling out of bed until the last possible moment.

The shower was running in the bathroom, but Olivia left Harry to his own devices, pulling on her short robe as she headed downstairs. She was nervous about the day – unbearably nervous, if she was honest with herself – but she felt silly telling Harry so. All she was doing was walking into a movie theatre with his sister, in a ridiculously expensive cocktail dress. It was his day to be nervous, not hers.

As she waited for the coffee to brew, Olivia tried to imagine what the day would be like. She knew she would spend most of the day with Gemma, and she also knew Harry's fans were almost as obsessed with her as they were Harry. There would be shouts.... pictutes... questions. And then, once Harry put her name on his lips, as he said he would, there would be the comments. As much as she wanted her relationship with Harry to be in the open, she dreaded the cruelty that would follow.

"Mmm, mmm... smells good in here," Harry said, coming into the kitchen. He flashed a grin at Olivia, who was sitting at the table with her cup of coffee. "Looks good, too," he commented, pressing a kiss against Olivia's tangled hair.

Olivia smiled up at Harry. "Good morning, super star," she answered, watching him find a coffee cup and pour his own cup. "You get any sleep last night?"

Harry shrugged. "Not a ton," he confessed, joining Olivia at the table. He wrung his hands together, watching the steam billow from his mug. "I'm nervous," he added, letting out a short snicker.

"You don't have to be," Olivia told him, hoping she sounded comforting as she touched his hand. Reassuring comments weren't her speciality. "You'll be great. Promise."

"I hope so..." Harry answered with a loud exhale. "I just... don't want to be a joke, you know?"

Olivia stood up before stepping behind Harry, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You could never, ever be a joke, sweetheart," she assured him, pressing her cheek against his. "You're the most talented person I know. And you're such a ridiculous perfectionist, I know you wouldn't have stopped until every scene was perfect."

Harry laughed, covering Olivia's arm with his hand. "Thanks, Pita," he teased, taking her hand and pressing his lips against it. He sighed again. "Fuck, my stomach feels like it'll explode," he said, pushing the coffee cup away from him.

Olivia pressed a kiss against Harry's cheek. "No throwing up on the red carpet. That's my gig," she teased him, hoping to calm him down. She ran her hands along Harry's neck, lightly massaging his shoulders. "It's going to be great, honey. Just try to relax and have fun with it. And just think... You're going to be in pictures with Tom Hardy. You lucky ass."

"That's really the only reason I did the movie," Harry agreed, tugging Olivia towards him and pulling her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head against her chest, trailing his fingers up and down her back. "I think I know what would calm me down..." he suggested, tugging on Olivia's robe and exposing her shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss against her bare skin as Olivia rolled her eyes at him.

"Getting me naked is your solution for everything, isn't it?" asked Olivia with a laugh, though making no motion to stop Harry. She knew they didn't have time, but his lips felt so nice against her skin, she didn't want him to stop.

"Well, you know... when you find something that works," Harry answered innocently, pulling on the other sleeve and revealing Olivia's breasts. "I feel more relaxed already..." he commented, his hands tracing along her curves.