Summertime & Butterflies

Thirty-Four

"Hey, hon?"

"Yeah?" Olivia called back, directing her voice to the upstairs balcony Harry was leaning over. She smirked up at him from her seat on the sofa. "I can almost see up your towel," she added, attempting – and failing – to utter a whistle.

A freshly showered Harry matched Olivia's smirk before unwrapping the towel and giving her a quick flash. "Do you want to head out to Malibu? Jeff and Glenne want to grab dinner."

Olivia scowled. It didn't take long for Harry to forgive Jeff – a broment on the flight home and all was well between the two – but Olivia already didn't have the time of day for Jeff, and his selfishness at the premiere only made it worse. The thought of driving all the way out to Malibu just to suffer through a meal with Jeff was nauseating.

Not to mention, after the experience in London, Olivia was apprehensive about being seen in public with Harry. She'd fallen down the Instagram rabbit hole and found the picture the girls had posted of her. The comments were some of the worst things she'd ever read in her life, though the amount of positive comments she read surprised her. It wasn't fifty-fifty – not by a long shot – but it wasn't ninety-ten either. Still, it was devastating, and the last thing she wanted to do was give the One Direction fandom more ammunition to throw at her.

Rather than reiterating her feelings to Harry, Olivia just let out a sigh. "Can't we just... stay here?"

Harry huffed out a grumbled sigh, "We've been staying here. For a whole week," he pointed out. "I thought you wanted to go out more," he added, his eye roll obvious even from the second story.

It was funny how the tables had turned, but Harry was right. They'd gone from Olivia desperate to get out of the house to Harry eager to go out on the town. She knew he understood where she was coming from, but she also knew it frustrated him she was letting the fans command her life.

"Yeah, I did," Olivia answered evenly. "Until your fans called me fat and ugly all over the internet!"

Harry groaned. He was supportive of Olivia's plight, but even Harry had his limits. Judging by his loud groan, he was reaching his breaking point. "Jesus... Liv, come on..." he complained. "It happened one time... You thought it would happen at the airport, and it didn't, right?"

Olivia frowned. He was right, but she didn't confirm.

Harry leaned further over the railing. "And you thought there'd be assholes at CVS the other day, didn't you? And was there?"

There hadn't been. Still, LAX at four in the morning and the CVS next to an old-folks home weren't a restaurant in Malibu. "I don't want to," Olivia repeated. "You can go," she offered, knowing full well he wouldn't go without her.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Harry sighed. "Fine, we'll get take-away... again," he snapped, turning on his heel and stomping back into the bedroom. "Something new and different for us," he called sarcastically over his shoulder.

What a baby, Olivia thought to herself, but she chewed her lip as she heard Harry's stomps above her and wondered if she was being unreasonable. Harry had explained to her that there would always be someone with something negative to say, and while it would be hurtful, she had to rise above their comments and let them roll off her back like water on a duck. She always thought it was something she could do, but thrust into the experience, she realised it was harder than she thought it would be.

With a quiet sigh as she thought she might be the baby, Olivia tossed her phone onto the couch and stood up, making her way up the stairs towards the master bedroom. The door was ajar, but Olivia could hear Harry's electric razor humming from the bathroom. She crossed the bedroom and leaned against the bathroom door, waiting for Harry to notice her.