Olivia's POV.
My head moved up and down rhythmically as I lay on Harry's chest; Marley and Me flickering on the TV amidst the darkness of the room. After Harry's abrupt departure the other day, the whole situation of me leaving had suddenly become a lot more real, and I think it had come to a bit of a shock to both of us. Later that evening, I received a phone call from Harry with a very apologetic voice on the other end, babbling endlessly as he said sorry more times than I could count. The initial anger of him getting up and going without a word had subsided within minutes of him leaving, and I didn't want any justification from him. I understood perfectly, and if anything, I should have probably been a bit more tactful when telling him. We spoke for hours that evening, trying to get our heads around what was going to happen in a few weeks' time. Even though my leaving had been set from the start of relationship, I don't think either of us really thought of how it would affect us when the tie came- particularly Harry. His dad left suddenly when he was ten with no warning and no contact until he reached sixteen, when a phone call finally came. He'd also lost his uncle to a short-lived battle with cancer and I knew just how much that had shaken him up, no matter how many times he tried to convince me that he was fine. I think Harry felt that I was walking out of his life, leaving him like the people that he loved always seemed to do. It took me hours of talking to convince me that this wasn't me leaving him, and that it was just me walking into my own life- something that I had to do.
I was snapped out of my thoughts as Harry stretched his arms behind his head; sighing softly as his muscles stretched and the hem of his t-shirt rose upwards from the waistband of his grey Abercrombie joggers. He held his taut position for a while, bringing the band of his boxers above his joggers, before finally releasing and sinking back into himself. His arm found its place back around my neck and shoulders, giving my upper arm a quick squeeze as he made sure I knew he was still aware of my presence, and at that moment, I could feel his eyes on me. I curled my body more tightly into his, draping my arm over his warm stomach and pulling him as close as physically possible. I could feel his heart thumping softly against his ribcage, sending me into a distant trance as I focused on its metronomic rhythm. I let my eyes flutter shut as I inhaled deeply; the faint scent of cologne and washing powder on his clothes filling my nose.
I loved moments like these... Just cuddling up and lying in a comfortable silence. I think that's when you know that you really have found someone worth giving every single ounce of emotion and love that you have; someone you want to share every little thing in your life with. I really did feel like this with Harry, and it killed me that it would be over so soon. I wanted to lay like this forever; him holding me... touching me... kissing me like only he could... Before Harry and I got together, I didn't believe that feelings like this even existed. In fact, I would often scoff and make cynical remarks at people who would say such things... but being with Harry made me realise that they were right all along.
I opened my eyes and focused them back on the screen in front, watching intently as the final scenes ensued.
"Are you crying?" Harry's voice stirred my attention from the screen, his head shifting to look down at him.
"No." I choked out, fiddling with his t-shirt between my thumb and forefinger.
"You are" he laughed. "I can feel it through my t-shirt..."
"I'm not, shut up" I protested, before lifting my head from his chest and burying it into the pillow below.
I hated people seeing me cry; my eyes would swell and cheeks flush a ghastly shade of red, and it definitely wasn't one of my more attractive moments. With my face down against the crisp cotton, I began to sob uncontrollably, unable to stifle the lump that was trying to burst out of my throat.
