Olivia's POV.
The past few days couldn't have been better. I'd managed to carefully divide the last moments of time that I had left between seeing all the people that meant the most to me; my parents, my friends, and Harry. Much to my surprise (and yes, I actually had no clue), all of this came together as one the other night when what I thought was going to be an intimate meal in fact turned out to be a huge farewell dinner and night out afterwards.
As soon as the doors opened and invited me into a room full of people, fancy champagne and canapés, and decorations, everything suddenly made sense. Harry had been shifty constantly for the week leading up to it, and I knew he was hiding something from me- I just couldn't work out what. It also explained why he was so insistent on me changing out of the button-up shirt and skirt that I had on into something more 'fancy', as I believe his words were. Before I'd even had a chance to question him, he'd picked out a dress from my wardrobe and was shoving it in my direction- a multi-coloured Aztec-print sequin dress from All Saints that he'd helped me pick out just last week, as it so happened. With raised eyebrows formed from curiosity and apprehension, I took heed of his adamance and slipped into the dress, thinking that it was just Harry being his generally weird and unexplainable self. In all fairness, his fingers dragging up my spine as he pulled the zip and his lips working the skin of my neck and shoulder as he did so had me completely distracted. He knew my weaknesses, and he knew exactly when to play with them. And boy, he did. By the time I was changed and ready to go, my mind was in a complete haze and all questions that I had bubbling in my mind from before had subdued, lost in his kisses and his touch.
He, of course, looked incredible. He was wearing a white low-cut tee that hung just above his black skinny jeans, held up by a brown leather belt which coordinated with his brogues. He'd slipped a black fitted blazer on top that clung to his arms and hugged his broadened shoulders; the pockets lined a deep purple. His curls were big, but tamed; skin golden and collar bones exposed, draped with a silver pendant that he never took off. A sweet aroma of Chanel hung in the air surrounding him, inviting me closer to the skin that it lingered on.
"Later" Harry breathed heavily, sliding his hands downwards from my waist and to my bum as I left a trail of wet kisses along his jaw.
"But you taste so good" I mumbled against his skin, welcoming his hand as it slid beneath my dress and massaged my buttocks.
He laughed softly through a strained growl. "You're naughty and we have to leave."
He reluctantly prised himself from my lips, raising his eyebrows at me as he swept his fingers through his hair.
"But I'd much rather stay here and do this" I whined, closing the gap between us for a second time and attacking his neck with my eager mouth.
"Olivia..." He groaned, taking another step backwards and shooting me a look of warning, before his mouth warmed into a lop-sided smile of amusement. "Later."
He was right though, we had no time to spare, and that bit of fun had to be left there for the time being.
My parents drove us to the hotel that I knew we were going to, although unaware of the true intentions of our visit. The summer air clung to my bare arms and legs as we stepped outside of the car and walked up towards the entrance of the hotel; Harry's arm around my waist as we stepped through the vast hallway. Suspicions only began to rise within me as we past the standard dining hall and were ushered down a long, bright corridor, and my suspicions were indeed confirmed once we reached the end and entered the large room at the back of the hotel. I swear my heart exploded into a thousand pieces (both a mixture of amazement and shock) as the doors opened and people screamed 'Surprise' at me, just like in some cheesy film. But it was far from cheesy. It was perfect. I couldn't remember a time when I'd actually felt that content; laughing, joking, getting tipsy on endless refills of champagne and wine... It was sophisticated, but fun. Classy with an edge of recklessness as inhibitions lowered and voices raised. By 11pm my family had left, leaving my friends and I to enjoy the night as we wished... which of course, was in no other way than getting absolutely obliterated on fancy cocktails and cheap wine (a sure-fire recipe for a killer hangover the next day.) We'd stumbled in in the early hours of the morning- a hushed handful of us taking residence in my living room and talking mindlessly until the birds began to sing and the sun spilled through the curtains.
