7th July 2015
Harry wakes gently. He hears the faint hum of the air conditioning and feels the softness of the Egyptian cotton under his cheek. Fluttering his eyes open, he sees the dappled sunlight dancing through the palm trees landing on the empty pillow beside him.
Bracing himself up on an elbow, he flips his pillow to rest his cheek on the cool side as he turns over to look towards the ensuite. The door's ajar and he strains but can't hear anything. Hmm.
It's the first time in three days that he's woken up without Eloise beside him, and he decides he doesn't like it much. He misses her. Those brilliant blue eyes. That beaming smile. Her beautiful face. The wild blonde tresses. Her dancing fingers.
He has to roll his eyes at himself. It's day four... Pathetic. Man up, Styles.
He scrunches up his face as he reaches blindly for his phone on the bedside table. Ignoring the notifications, he squints at the time. Huh, 8.45am. Must have slept like a baby.
Too comfy to move, he calls out her name. His first attempt so low and gravelly it's practically inaudible. Embarrassing. He sniggers and clears his throat. "Eloise!", he sing songs. Well, rasps deeply. No response. He cranes his neck and tries again, upping his pitch and holding the end of her name in a belt. Still nothing.
Curiosity gets the better of him. With a grunt, he rolls himself out of bed and stumbles to the ensuite to freshen up.
>
On his way back across the bedroom from grabbing some swimming shorts from the walk-in closet, something catches his eye through the glass balcony.
He slides open the bi-fold doors and breathes in the dry heat as he buttons his shorts. Resting his elbows on the glass balustrade, he leans over to find her in the pool.
He admires the flashes of gold as she turns her head to breathe and the long tanned limbs slicing through the water with ease. Her speed only increases as she approaches the wall and executes a practiced tumble turn before gliding back underwater.
He can't help but smile. At her. At her being his.
>
As he emerges outside, he spots the rubbish bags and empty beer crates piled neatly by the side gate and wishes she'd woken him.
He plots his approach carefully, keeping to the shadows under the tall trees along the back edge of the pool. Timing her next turn, he steps out of the shadow as she tucks in at the wall, leaping to cannonball over her and block her path.
She wraps her arms around his waist as she pulls up short, and they break the surface at the same time, laughing and spluttering. In her haste to pull off the unflattering goggles she found, he's met with her grimacing as she tangles them in the hair behind her ear.
He pulls her shallower and bats her hand away to help detangle. His eyes flick to hers. "You sure you're not a morning person? You've been busy", he gestures to her handiwork at the side gate. "You didn't have to do that".
"It was nothing", she shrugs, grimacing at the final tug.
"Well, I know I missed waking up to this", he trails a finger across her cheekbone, over the indentation from the goggles.
She drapes her arms around his shoulders and wraps her legs around his hips. "You looked too cute sleeping", she smiles, leaning in for their first kiss of the day.
"Mmm... Well good morning to you too", he chuckles, pulling back as his hands skate down her thighs to her bum. "How long have you been at it?".
"Oh, I don't know, I always lose count. Half an hour, maybe? Haven't done anything but eat and drink for days and was starting to feel all... Jiggly", she wiggles playfully in his arms.
"Nonsense!", he scoffs. "Besides, I happen to love any jiggly bits", he laughs, squeezing her toned bum and perving down at her boobs bobbing against his chest as her breathing settles.
>
He emerges from some laps of his own to find her setting up a breakfast of freshly made coffee and steaming omelettes at the table.
They enjoy a quiet morning, relaxing around the pool, sunbathing and chatting. Hands inevitably stroking and fingers tangling.
Returning the favour, she takes her time applying suncream to his broad back. Sitting perched on his bum, she can't resist treating him to a massage.
His grunts and groans and suggestive lewd comments are cut off when a phone rings. He'd left his in the bedroom so it must be hers. Recognising the ringtone, she jumps up off him, slapping his bum before skipping into the house.
>
Soon reappearing outside, she falters mid-stride, slipping her sunglasses down her nose to peer at him with a raised eyebrow. He's reclined on his back, tugging at his shorts whilst adjusting himself; evidently worked up from her touch.
"Yep, he's right here. Say hi", she says loudly, pointedly, into her phone screen as she approaches.
Perching on his sunlougner next to him, she carefully tilts it up towards Harry.
He clears his throat and lifts a hand to shield his eyes from the sun to peer at her screen, "Oh, hey Ollie! How you doing, man?". One look from the disconcertingly familiar features peering back at him, and his boner disappears in an instant, thank God.
"Hey, superstar!", Ollie cheers. "Amazing digs, dude. Hope you're not sick of this troublemaker already? Please don't send her home!", he jokes.
"Ha!", Harry barks a laugh, arm wrapping around her waist to pull her back to lean against him. "No chance-".
He's interrupted by Ollie, squinting quizzically at them. "Hang on. You both better actually be wearing something?".
Eloise barks a laugh at that "Yes, Dad!", tilting the phone down quickly to reveal her strapless bikini and Harry's trunks.
"Don't be jealous! It's already hot as out here... Anyway, what do you want? This is precious tanning time", she jokes with her brother.
Harry grins at their easy rapport and can't help but compare the two. Twins; but not identical, thanks very much, as Eloise has to point out worryingly often. But the similarities are undeniable.
Striking blue-eyed blondes, they're armed with matching killer cheekbones and stunning smiles. Both tall and athletic; but her ballet-honed, yoga-toned, long lithe limbs are dwarfed by his hulking professional rugby trained frame.
He's only a couple of inches taller than Harry but must outweigh him by more than two stone of solid muscle. An absolute unit. The difference between the heft of his body and the slightness of Eloise's is comical. But there's a similarity to their movements; a slinky, almost cat-like poise.
Harry grins at their back and forth, delighting in recognising familiar expressions, gestures and patterns of speech. It's fascinating.
As Ollie fills her in on the uproar over an ex-girlfriend hooking up with a teammate, Harry's attention settles firmly back to Eloise. As it always seems to these days.
As she follows the story with rapt attention, Harry can see her every thought and feeling play out across her expressive features. He unconsciously cups a reverent hand to her cheek, and her eyes cut to his to return his intense gaze.
"Oh, God, you two have got it bad! You're all... Moony", Ollie laughs at their distraction.
"Oh, piss off then you. I'll speak to you later", Eloise hangs up with a laugh and twists to lie between Harry's legs. "What?", she smirks.
"You're lovely", he smiles back softly.
"Oh God, you are moony!", she laughs, reaching to cup his cheeks as she leans in for a kiss. "But I happen to think you're lovely too".
>
After things, inevitably, heat up, she pulls him back into the pool to cool down.
She floats on her back as he guides her gently around the pool. Hands groping her bum every so often, to her squirming amusement.
"So, umm, speaking of exes...", Harry clears his throat, in an awkward non-sequitur.
"Mmm-hmm?", Eloise blinks an eye open and looks up at him curiously.
"Well, I wanted to give you a heads up...".
"Okay...?", she encourages, righting herself to stand in front of him.
"Well, it's just that Kendall might swing by tonight, at the bar or the club. Louis texted to say they bumped into her last night and she said she wants to hang out with everyone before we're off. It's not a big deal. At all. We weren't anything serious, and we're still good friends. She's cool; really chill. So you might see her, or see me talking to her, but it's nothing. There's nothing there beyond friendship, I promise, and I just... Wanted to let you know", he spews, unnaturally quickly. For him.
"Jesus! Was that all in one breath?", she wraps her arms around his waist, stroking up his back soothingly as she looks up at him.
"Why are you nervous to tell me?", she asks plainly.
"We'll it's just... This, us, is so new... And I'd hate for anyone to say or do anything to make you to feel uncomfortable", he says quietly, earnestly.
"Well, thank you, for the heads up", she steps closer, lifting her arms to the back of his neck. "But I'm not worried. Because you told me", she looks at him meaningfully for a beat, before smirking playfully. "Besides, psh, I'll have my own supermodel in tow. I'm sure Rosie would be willing to have a catfight for me".
He laughs, relieved. "Thank you for being so understanding", he presses a sweet kiss to her lips before pulling back with a wince. "But we, ugh, probably do need to have the exes chat at some point, don't we?", he groans in realisation.
>
When late morning rolls around, Eloise is standing over Harry's bed shoving her clothes and make-up back into her big slouchy tote bag. Humming to the quiet melody floating up from the speakers downstairs, she's pondering what to wear tonight and looking forward to rummaging through her suitcases at Adele's for some fresh outfits. If only to give Harry some respite from these denim shorts, she thinks with a smirk.
She flinches when muscular arms snake tightly around her from behind. "Have I told you how good you look in my bedroom?", he whispers lowly in her ear, hooking his chin over her shoulder as he casts an eye over her hurried packing.
"Keep them out", he reaches around her to pull the jeans back out her bag. "We can take the bike", he says lowly and slowly, lips pressed to the shell of her ear.
She gasps and twists in his arms to look up at him. "That's playing dirty!".
"What?", he protests innocently, "I'll be able to cut down to Beverly Hills quickly in time for lunch".
Pulling away from her, he steps back towards his closet. "And, well, if it gets you all hot and bothered and looking forward to seeing me again tonight, then all the better!" he continues with a smirk, cockily shrugging his shoulders.
Returning quickly with a bundle of clothes in his arms, he chuckles to see her standing exactly as he left her, mouth slightly agape.
He saunters back to her and pulls a khaki green 'Obsession' emblazoned sweatshirt straight over her head.
He pecks a kiss to her lips whilst shimmying tight jeans up over his boxers, then tugs at the belt loop of her shorts, "Off".
"You don't need to wear leathers here, but pop your jeans on", he explains, reaching for his blue and white vertical striped shirt.
She stares at him, unblinking and with an eyebrow raised, whilst she pulls off her shorts to wiggle into her jeans. He's distracted by her legs before he clocks her haughty expression. "What?".
She tugs at his short sleeve and rolls her eyes, swerving past him before ducking into his closet.
Strutting back, she reaches up and pulls a grey sweatshirt straight over his head, exactly as he'd just done to her. "Don't even...", she levels flatly before reaching for her bag next to him.
"Ah, don't you even...!", he sasses back, batting her hand away to lift her bag on to his shoulder, as he casts a roving eye up and down her frame.
Her long legs look amazing in the tight skinny jeans, contrasting with the oversized sweatshirt swamping her top half. "You look good in my clothes", he grins, snaking an arm around her waist to pull her in for a kiss.
She looks down at her bare feet and pulls a face. "I've only got open-toed shoes...".
"I'm sure I'll have something of Gem's somewhere", he says, "Come on".
>
He heads to the garage to prepare the bike as she rummages in a cupboard in the laundry room. A mess of lost and forgotten items, she eyes a scrunched up Rolling Stones t-shirt with interest whilst digging for an elusive left shoe.
She walks into the garage, brandishing the t-shirt. "Totally calling dibs on this".
He looks up, "Sure. Wondered where that got to".
"Oh, it's yours? Sorry", she folds it and leaves it on the workbench before bending over to tie her laces.
She clocks him sneak the t-shirt into her bag. "Don't even!", he mimics, wagging a finger at her, before clocking her shoes with a laugh.
"What? These can't be yours too?", she laughs. "Sorry if Vans aren't up to par, Mr. YSL! But they were the only ones that fit. Everything else was massive".
"God, don't tell him that. They're Louis'!", he laughs again as he steps back to the bike.
>
"Grab those for me, please", he gestures to the helmets on the work bench.
He fishes the gloves out of the glossy black one and passes them to her. "They might be a bit big, but they'll have to do", he says as he slides her sunglasses off the top her head and hands them to her too.
He then pulls down her hair from the messy bun at the top of her head and skilfully pulls it into one at the nape of her neck. An oddly sexy gesture, she can't help think. But maybe that's just down to the proximity of the bike.
He bends his knees slightly as he gently pulls the helmet over her head and wiggles it into place before adjusting the chin strap. He opens the visor and carefully slides the legs of her sunglasses through. "That all feel okay?", he checks.
"Yerp", she muffles out, pulling the strap of her bag over her head and positioning it across her back.
"Do me a favour and hit that button once I'm through", he nods to the panel on the far wall as he passes her his helmet to hold. "Oh, and pull up Adele's address for me, please?", he says handing her his phone, open on the maps app.
She can only nod dumbly and wander over, staring transfixed as he throws a leg over the bike and nudges it off the kickstand with a practised roll of his hips. Jesus Christ.
The thundering roar as he turns the ignition and shifts to neutral has her practically drooling as he walks the bike out on to the drive.
She's only pulled from her reverie when he twists to look over his shoulder, nodding for her to follow. Quickly hitting the door close button, she joins him, hesitantly stepping close and handing over his phone and helmet.
He balances the helmet on the seat behind him and pinches at the map screen with one hand whilst absentmindedly gunning the throttle a bit to warm up the engine.
He has no idea what this is doing to her. Then again, she thinks, maybe he does.
Spotting her opportunity whilst he's distracted, she takes a few steps back, sliding her phone from her back pocket. Crouching low, she sneaks some photos and videos. "Hey, H!", she calls loudly over the idling engine.
As he looks up, she captures what she's convinced is possibly the most perfect footage ever taken. In the dappled sunshine and moody shadows of his paved driveway, set against a backdrop of gently swaying palm fronds. Legs astride the gleaming bike, her gorgeous man looks up at her; expression melting from smoulderingly sexy to stunningly handsome as his pouty smirk transforms into a beaming smile as he starts to laugh. The slight wobble from the shake of her hand at the very end of the clip will serve as a fitting reminder of exactly how she felt about him in this moment. The anticipation almost too much to bear.
Pocketing his phone, he pulls on his helmet and gloves, and beckons her to him with a curl of his finger.
He pulls her close and pushes her phone deeper into her back pocket, raising his voice to ensure she hears him over the engine and through their helmets. "Swing a leg over. Feet on these. Lean into the corners; you'll get it. You'll have to get really close. Arms around my waist, but try not to distract me too much".
>
She's giddy with excitement by the time he's pulling through the gate and into the quiet road, and can't help but let out an uncontainable squeal of excitement as he picks up speed down the street.
Holding tightly on to his waist, hips nestled right into his bum, she feels the heat of him as much as heat of the bike beneath her and the Californian sun bouncing off the tarmac. The rush of the wind through her clothes as he speeds them up through the Hills feels exhilarating.
Just ten minutes later, she feels conflicted seeing Adele's gate come into view over his shoulder as he slows - devastated that their fun is over so soon, but eager to get the helmets off and pounce on him. Oh, and to see the girls too, obviously.
>
She practically drags him from the bike and pulls their helmets off to tackle him with an intense kiss and roving hands.
They're interrupted by a shout from the front door. "Jesus! Impressionable eyes", Adele laughs, hands playfully covering the eyes of both the toddler and supermodel alongside her.
"Well, mission accomplished", Eloise pulls back with a sigh from a stunned Harry. "Might regret that tonight, mind...", she bites her lip, raking her eyes up and down him. She grasps his hand in hers and pulls him dazedly down the pathway to the door.
Adele insists he come in for a drink and they're soon settling into the plush sofas on the sprawling deck overlooking the pool.
>
Harry positions himself in the corner, spread legs jiggling with pent up energy and maybe a bit of nervousness. He knows how important these two are to Eloise. She's been surrounded by his family and friends for days now, and can appreciate just how well she's handled the pressure.
She folds into his side and he automatically pulls her closer, resting an arm behind her shoulder. They look up to see her two best friends eyeing them intently.
Adele casts Rosie a pointed look as she clears her throat.
"So, Harry, what exactly are your intentions with Eloise?", Rosie says seriously, leaning forward with an elbow perched on her crossed legs.
"Errr, well-", Harry's cut off after a second by Eloise's bark of laughter.
"Oh, do fuck off! What are you two like?". She turns back to a slightly pale-faced Harry, "Do not answer that".
Adele breaks first and hoots with laughter, patting Rosie on the back before pointing at Harry, "Your face!".
"Sorry! Couldn't resist", Rosie offers, hands up.
"Oh, don't! I've already got her dad and three brothers to contend with", he chuckles weakly, pressing a kiss to Eloise's temple.
Adele hoots with laughter again, rubbing her hands with glee.
"Ooh, shhh, would you?", Rosie's laugh tapers into a whine.
"You cannot still be hungover? You better man up for tonight!", Adele admonishes.
"What have you been up to now?", Eloise laughs. "I can't remember the last time I saw you not drunk or hungover, actually".
"I didn't mean to", she whines, reclining on the sofa to rest her weary head in Adele's lap. "Drinks at the end of my shoot turned into Jason's wrap dinner which turned into drinking till 3am with the cast".
"So Hollywood, darling", Eloise teases. "How bad?", she adds with some sympathy as Rosie bats away Adele's hand combing through her hair.
"Not great, but certainly not 'top tier'. Think a nap then hair of the dog should do it".
"What counts as 'top tier' bad?", Harry questions with a chuckle.
"Ooof", Eloise groans dramatically.
"The worst of the worst hangovers. Usually reserved the most outrageous benders or diabolical mixing", Adele clarifies.
"Come on", Rosie says, interest piqued, "You must have some good stories with the band", she probes. "Regale me with your woes and make me feel better".
He shakes his head. "They keep us on a pretty tight leash, to be honest, so probably nothing as interesting as you'd expect".
He leans forward, "I mean we're no choir boys and have definitely had our moments", he chuckles at Eloise's raised eyebrow. "Nights when we were way drunker than management realised on stage in front of ninety thousand people at the Rose Bowl. Or when none of us could remember having been interviewed on live TV at the BRITs. Couple of trashed hotel rooms... That sort of stupid thing. Niall practically has Guinness running through his veins, but it's Louis and Liam that get lairy".
"And what about you?", Adele asks with a smirk.
He shrugs, "Well, you can be the judge of that for yourself tonight, right?", smirking back. He surreptitiously runs the hand hanging by Eloise's shoulder up the side of her breast, teasingly, promisingly.
"Well what about hers?", he counters, gesturing to a squirming Eloise. "I've seen these two put away some tequila", he points to her and Rosie, who gags. "There have to be some good stories here?", he grins at Adele.
"Hmmm...", she ponders. "Well none of us have knowingly touched sambuca" - Eloise and Rosie join her in gagging on cue - "since our BRIT School leaving do. But I'm not sure we could piece together enough from that night between us to cobble together a story anyway!".
"But El's worst? Hmm...", she drums her fierce red nails against her chin in thought. "Oh, it's gotta be St. Petersburg, late last year", she cackles.
Eloise groans at the thought before gasping in horror. "Oh God, no! We haven't, umm, had the exes chat yet", she grimaces.
"Well therein lies the problem. He's not technically an ex, is he?", Adele counters.
"Wait, what?", Harry gasps in horror, head whipping around to face Eloise.
"No! Not like that", she grabs his hands, hurriedly explaining. "She means we weren't ever together in the first place".
"Phew! But, who?", he asks, relieved but curious. She said there hadn't been anyone else since the beginning of the year.
"Urgh", Eloise groans dramatically, shaking her head in her hands.
"Sorry, not sorry", Adele singsongs with a smirk. "Well, go on...", she gestures to Eloise. "Why don't you tell it and I'll jump in when you get to the blanks?", she teases.
"Okay, err...", Eloise lifts herself up to sit facing Harry, cross-legged, hands resting on his own in his lap. "Some context: it was last Autumn, right at the end of filming War and Peace. We were playing Natasha and Andrei. I met James a year earlier, through our agency", she winces as she says his name. "I'd been pathetically pining after him for most of it, but was finally coming to my senses. He'd been grieving his ex so I was really careful to just be there as a friend and didn't push anything at all, but I guess he knew I felt something and it was getting awkward...", she tails off seeing Harry pulling at the neck of his sweatshirt in discomfort. He was expecting funny drunken antics, not a heavy exes chat in front of an audience.
"He totally strung you along! Bloody played you hot and cold", Adele interjects before Eloise carries on.
"Anyway, filming had been so intense and we'd had a big bust up over his moods and properly fallen out, despite being stuck in each others pockets, filming in Russia and bloody remote Latvia. I was hurt at the rejection and desperately trying to get over him", she takes a deep breath and looks at Harry cautiously. He nods in encouragement.
"Then the good old BBC insisted on us shooting a love scene...", she grimaces as he blanches. She continues hastily, "My first. Urgh, it was hideous. We were barely speaking and I was in total turmoil, having to pretend to have the feelings for his character that I'd been desperately trying to switch off for him. I was all over the place, really". She shakes her head, palm to her forehead recalling the anguish. "I hope to God it doesn't make the cut... It wasn't in the book so they'd get slated for it anyway".
"Anyway, safe to say, I'd had the worst day ever. I literally couldn't speak to anyone after and just hightailed it straight off set... Dramatic, moi?!", she chuckles ruefully. "I got back to the hotel in the city centre by mid-afternoon and went straight to the bar. I still had my hair all pinned up in ringlets and was knocking back neat vodka. Just ridiculous. In the end the barman left me the bottle. I'd barely eaten in two days from the stress and, well, the pressure of stripping off. In front of him and the Russian crew", she shivers in recollection.
"Anyway, this one...", she gestures to Adele, "Serendipitously, was flying in for private gig. She found me in the hotel bar a couple of hours later. I can barely remember".
Harry bites his lower lip in sympathy and pulls her in to him, rubbing her shoulder in comfort.
Adele jumps in. "It was a quiet bar in a classy five star hotel. Oh my God, she'd sunk half a bottle of vodka and ordered loads of caviar".
"I don't even like it; vodka or caviar!", Eloise laughs.
"She was talking the ear off this old barman and there was a dodgy business man who definitely hoped she was some high-class call girl. It was carnage. So I dragged her upstairs, threw her in the shower, let her have a good cry, then left a poor assistant to babysit her. When I got back a few hours later after the gig, she was awake again and had sobered up a tiny bit and was bloody raring to go! We stayed in the suite but just went mad; singing and dancing and jumping on the bed. Woke up the next morning with two more bottles of vodka gone between four of us. It was like something out of The Hangover. She even slept in the bath!", she points at a blushing Eloise.
"I can still taste the vodka when I think about it. I was sick as a dog and had to go back to set to say goodbye to the crew. I saw a photo afterwards and swear my skin was actually green. Anyway, I flew home sprawled on the floor of her jet, wishing for death. I didn't feel okay again for like a week. Never again", she says adamantly, shaking her head.
"It was great!", Adele cackles gleefully.
"Can we please change the subject", Rosie weakly interjects, looking a bit green herself.
"Well...", Harry coughs, a bit overwhelmed. "I better keep you away from the vodka tonight then".
"Oh you're fine", she reassures him. "The vodka definitely didn't help, but the emotional meltdown was to blame, I think. Not planning on that tonight, either", she chuckles.
His phone rings in his pocket and she sees him swiftly reject Jeff's call. "Shit, I should go. I'm going to be late for lunch", he jumps straight up, kissing the other girls on the cheek goodbye, before heading off quickly.
"Fuck, did that just scare him off?", a panicky Eloise whispers to them before hurriedly following him out.
>
She catches up to him at the bike, where he takes her by surprise, whirling around to wrap her tightly in his arms. "I hate the thought of you so torn up", he mumbles, squeezing her tightly.
"All in the past", she reassures him, squeezing him back gratefully, before he pulls her off her feet and into a passionate kiss.
He throws a leg over the bike whilst she palms the helmets, then unhooks a key from his keyring and hands it to her.
"Why don't you drop off that", he gestures to the black helmet, "And your stuff back at the house on the way out tonight? Have some drinks with the girls there if you want. I'll text you the codes".
He takes his helmet from her but hesitates before putting it on, pulling her in for another sweet kiss.
"And, umm...", he looks at her intently, "Can I take you out tomorrow? On a proper date. You know, without friends or family cramping our style. Just you and I?", he asks a little nervously.
"I'd love that", she swoons, beaming at him. "Can't wait to see you later", she tugs at his sweatshirt.
"I'll miss you. Try to stay out of trouble!", he jokes with a smirk as he fixes his gloves and pulls on his helmet.
Then, with a rev of the engine, he waves to Adele and Angelo on her hip at the front door before throwing Eloise a wink and tearing off up the drive.
"Drive carefully", she shouts after him.
Fuck. That bike. That man. She groans as she reaches the door again.
>
"God, you've got it bad!", Adele ribs her.
"In my defence-", she holds up a finger and pulls up the video she took of him on the bike earlier, playing it to Adele.
"Lucky you", she pervs as they settle back on the sofas with a sprawled out Rosie. "But he's got it just as bad. Did you see his face when you were talking about James? He looked physically in pain at the thought of you having feelings for someone else".
Rosie heaves herself upright. "Speaking of pain, is he as well hung as rumour has it? Details, please", she laughs with a devilish smirk. Don't be fooled by her angelic features.
Eloise swoops Angelo into her arms, fully intent on using the toddler as deflection from their imminent barrage of no holds barred questions, but he wriggles out of her grasp and toddles off. Traitor.
She groans and flops back into the cushions at their unwavering expectant expressions. "Ugh, okay," she sits up and leans forward. "Yes. It's mind-blowing, alright?", she eyes them both intently. "Everything about him is amazing. I get butterflies every time I look at him, melt every time I hear his voice and get goosebumps whenever he touches me", she fans herself. "He's funny and silly and sweet and cute and just so sexy", she beams. "It just feels right and easy and I'm so happy and I don't want to jinx it, so please don't keep on, okay?".
"Awwww," Adele coos, overcome at her outpouring of affection.
"So, yes he's hung, right? Knew it!", Rosie snaps her fingers. "That swagger, oof!".
With a growl, Eloise throws a cushion right at Rosie's face before jumping up, muttering about needing to find something to wear.
>
A while later, Adele pokes her head around the guest bedroom door to find Eloise kneeling in front of her open suitcases, tossing things on to the bed behind her.
She steps behind her and leans down to wrap her arms around her. "I'm so happy for you, doll. You deserve the world and I think he wants to give it to you. Let him", she says softly, pressing a kiss to her head.
Eloise hugs Adele's forearms, wrapped across her chest, and feels herself welling up. She's just so happy, and has all the feels; all of them.
"Oh, and that one, definitely", Adele says plucking a white dress from the suitcase. "You'll make him fucking drool".
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