I whimper as I fall into the chair across from his desk with a huff. "I've been promoted."

Harry grins proudly, an extremely rare look of accomplishment on his face. "Don't sound so excited, kiddo..." he teases.

And when I heard the word kiddo, I nearly lost it. Memories flood back from that time when I was a four or five, the rain storm just about to hit while I was standing outside holding my favorite stuffed animal. Bear Bear, was his name. I had just felt a raindrop when my dad called for me, simply saying "come on in kiddo, it's about to rain." It was just like yesterday, and my homesick feeling just knocked me over like a 800 lb. gorilla.

I wrenched my hands together and stared at my lap, trying to push the longing memory of home away from my mind. I wouldn't be home for Christmas. I wouldn't hear my dad call me kiddo. I could feel the heartbreak working its way through my pores, pooling at my eyes.

I will not cry.
I will not cry.
I will not cry.

"Hey," Harry mutters gently. He quickly stands and makes his way over to me.

No, don't come near me. I don't want him near me. I don't want his support or his pity. Lying, cheating bastard.

He worriedly kneeled next to my chair, his hand finding its place on the arm of it. I quickly pulled my arms to my chest, not wanting to be anywhere near his touch.

"What's wrong," he asked tenderly.

I shook my head. I cannot speak. Not now. Not to him.

"Well, you've been promoted!! Congratulations!!" he exclaims, forcing me to let out a bit of a snort at his antics, even though I didn't want to. He feels encouraged at the sound, so he continues. "And hey! Now that Stacey's gone, you get seniority. You can be the boss of the place, have your own minions to order around like a Nazi! That'll be fun!"

I chuckled again, despite myself. Damn him.

"And you'll be Eleanor's right hand man -- er, woman -- " he finished, but then has a bit of a realization. "Well, that's not much of a perk," he chuckled to himself, but then it hits him. His face forms an "o" shape and then falls. "Oh...you have to come to England with us..."

All I could do was nod, squeezing my hands tightly together in my lap as the swell of emotion threatens my tear ducts again. Harry let's out a small gurgled sound of pity before letting his hand touch my shoulder gently, letting me know he was there for me. I immediately tensed, feeling him pull his hand away just as quickly as it was there.

"Look -- I'll talk to her, okay?" he offered. "She doesn't need an assistant out there anyway. We'll be with my family. It's the holidays..." he nods, more to himself than me. As if he could convince Eleanor to do anything. Eye roll.

I nod, sniffling softly, still overcome by the emotion coursing through me. I kindly take the tissue Harry handed me from the box on his desk. After a long pause to make sure I was okay, he got up and returned to his chair, letting his fingers run over the magazine I had just dropped off.

"So flowers, huh?" he offered, continuing to try and distract me. He looked so bored as he flipped through the pages.

I nodded. "Hard hitting journalism, right there," I mutter sarcastically.

We both let out a little chuckle, the tenseness in the air dissipating a bit.

"I should get going," I mutter. "I have to screen new applicants today." I rolled my eyes while he laughed.

"Good luck with that," he finishes dryly. "Oh, and congrats on the promotion."

"Thanks," I sighed, moving towards the door.

"Oh, and Livvy..." he trails. I turned back to him, giving him a questioning glance. "You, uh...you know that nothing was, uh...nothing was going on with Calley earlier?" he mutters, nervously playing with his tie.

I blushed furiously, a pang striking me in my gut that I wasn't expecting. "Oh, yeah!" I fake enthusiasm. "Of course. Mum's the word, don't worry."

You bastard.

"Thanks," he chuckled nervously. "But uh, you know that nothing really did happen, right? It wasn't what it looked like," he offered, seeing my face scrunch in some emotion I wasn't even sure of myself. "She really was just straightening my tie. You believe me, right?" His eyes searched mine uncertainly.

"Yeah! Of course," I feign. I turn to leave, but he interrupts me again.

"Oh, Olivia?" he asked again. "What do the colors mean?"

I eyed him with a stare that I hope didn't give away just how irritated I was with him still. "Oh, right. Greens are definite. Blues are maybes. Yellow are maybe, maybe nots." My tone was filled with childish hostility, smirking to myself at giving him the wrong information. Let's just see how Eleanor responds when he hates everything she loves. Served him right, cheeky bastard.

We both nodded to each other.

"Thanks, Livvy," he smiled uneasily. "And don't worry about Christmas -- I have it completely under control."

Riiiiiiiiiiiight.

--
Author's Note:

Double update! Yay! May update later today if I feel so inclined. Likes and comments appreciated!

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