23rd July 2017
After wrapping up their last few photo shoots and interviews, Harry and his cast mates returned to Dunkirk for the French premiere last weekend, then headed straight to New York from there for the last round of press and the final premiere on Tuesday.
Since its general release on Friday, the early numbers are looking strong, and the reception has been really positive.
Eloise hopes that might help soften the blow of her bad news.
The Sunday morning traffic had been light heading to Heathrow, so she parks up at the VIP entrance with time to spare.
Chewing on her lip, she pulls up her calendar on her phone, hoping in vain to find a solution that's alluded her so far.
Her phone has been blowing up ever since the Daisy Jones & The Six trailers premiered. It seems like everyone she's ever known, or at least certainly ever worked with, wants a piece of her. It's exhausting, and a little transparent.
After her unanticipated time off to recuperate, they had to reschedule a number of photoshoots and interviews for the long-lead glossy magazines.
Despite her best efforts, they'd been condensed into one very busy week.
This coming week. Her last and intentionally clear one before they start shooting Killing Eve.
The one she had resolutely promised Harry that she'd keep free; for their last opportunity for some quality time together before she's at the mercy of long days shooting on location - first around London in August, and then across Europe from September - as he bunkers down for rehearsals prior to heading out on tour.
Swiping through her calendar once again, she frowns. Even more has been scheduled in overnight.
In between shoots and interviews there will be meetings galore, to sign off promotional materials and lock the press tour schedule - London, NYC and LA in October. It has proved a nightmare trying to squeeze everything into a couple of pre-negotiated windows within her Killing Eve shoot schedule.
"Fuuuuck", she whines as she spots another new invite. A dinner with Netflix executives next Sunday - literally her final night before they start shooting bright and early the next day.
Frowning and tugging at the roots of her hair, she taps on the new invite and checks the other attendees, hoping to find some kind of leeway.
>
"FUCK!", she repeats, this time at a shout as knuckles rap unexpectedly against her window.
Jumping in surprise, she accidentally flings her phone across the car where it lands with a clatter in the front passenger seat footwell.
Dropping her left hand to her hammering chest on a shaky exhale, she whips her head to her right and immediately breaks into a grin at seeing his laughing smile, tired eyes and tousled hair.
Impatiently tugging on the handle of her locked door, he soon hauls her from the car. Dropping his heavy leather tote and garment bags at his feet with a thump, he wastes no time in pulling her straight into his arms.
"You and your surprises!", he chuckles, nuzzling into her hair and breathing in the sweet, elusive scent of her shampoo. He can never quite pinpoint it; but he'll never tire of trying. "God, I missed you".
"You too", she mumbles back, pressing a kiss to his neck. "I couldn't bear to wait another hour".
Pulling her back, he skates his hands around to cup either side of her jaw, thumbs stroking across her smiling cheeks. "I have to say, you are a lot prettier than my usual driver", he smirks.
"I should bloody hope so!", she scoffs, swatting at his arm.
"Hey! Don't be mean to Greg", he parries back playfully.
"H?", she steps closer and pulls him down, "Shut up and kiss me".
>
They break apart only when another car pulls into the walled car park.
Grinning, he pecks a kiss to her forehead before holding her door open, then stoops to collect his bags, slinging them in the boot on his way to the passenger seat.
Sliding in, he catches her biting her flushed, plumped lower lip. Smiling so broadly that his dimples pop, he leans across the centre console to peck her lips again.
Pulling back, he rests a hand on her cheek, eyeing her appraisingly. "How are you feeling?".
"Better", she nods with a soft smile.
"Better, better?", he checks, raising a sceptical eyebrow.
"Better, better! I promise", she rolls her eyes fondly.
As she starts the car, he reaches down for her phone in the footwell and glances at the still lit up screen of her calendar. "Holy shit!", he winces.
"Ugh, I know. I'm so sorry" she grimaces, pulling out of the car park. "I'm having to play some serious catch-up after the last few weeks. Everything's been squeezed into next week and it's looking hideous. I'm so disappointed; I was so looking forward to a week of just us before the madness kicks off again. We need it. But if I can-".
He cuts off her hurried rambling with a chuckle as he drops a hand to her thigh with a reassuring squeeze. "El, relax! I get it, I'm not cross. God, that would make me such a hypocrite! I totally understand. If anything I'm just relieved they gave you a proper break to recover. I'm more than happy to be your tag-along boyfriend, alright? I'll take anything I can get, anything you can give me", he pulls his hand from her thigh to squeeze her left hand resting on the gear stick. "Let's sit down at home and compare schedules and I'll work out how much I can join, okay? Please don't stress".
He lifts her hand to his lips and sponges playful kisses across her knuckles and her palm until he works his way up her wrist, when she shakes him off with a giggle as she focuses on merging on to the M4.
>
Once home, he bundles her into the shower, despite her weak protests. He's not quite ready to be separated from her again, even for a few minutes.
It's only when he notices her angling herself away from him that he realises, belatedly.
Stepping gently towards her, he dips to catch her eye, then splays his hands over her hips to anchor her in place, not letting her squirm away. He then drops to his knees and presses featherlight kisses over the two visible small scars - it's the first time he's seen them uncovered.
They're relatively neat, but an angry dark pink against the paler skin below the tan lines from her bikini bottoms. They'll fade in time, but are a stark reminder of what she went through and what they had been denied.
After reverently bowing to rest his head against her stomach for a few somber seconds, he looks up at her through his lashes. "I love you, El. I'm so in love with you. Every bit of you", he reassures.
Swallowing thickly as her fluttery blink breaks their watery long stare, he stands swiftly and pulls her into his arms, stepping them back under the warm spray from the shower overhead.
>
Hair still damp from their long shower, he flops down on the sofa, laying his head on her lap as they compare schedules again, making loose plans for when he might be able to drop by her various shoots.
He'll avoid the journalists, obviously, and will have to hang back to wait for her nod that each of the editorial shoot crews are cool and discrete enough before he heads over. But still, it's reassurance enough to see a few hours blocked out for her in his diary almost every day next week.
See, they can make this work.
Where there's a will, there's a way. Well, with a little flexibility and pragmatism.
>
Seeing her crammed schedule again is a fitting reminder that this afternoon is the very last of her free time, so she swats away his wandering hands and drags him off the sofa.
Grabbing the picnic she'd prepared earlier, they head out for a long walk on Hampstead Heath, making the most of the glorious summer sunshine.
With his arm slung around her shoulder and hers around his waist, they can't help but recall their walk around Central Park - unbelievably now almost exactly two years before.
Spreading the picnic blanket under the dappled sunlight streaming through the leaves of a majestic old oak tree, they while away a few hours - chatting and reminiscing on their favourite memories together, between feeding each other strawberries and indulging in languorous kisses.
All in all, it's a pretty perfect lazy summer Sunday afternoon.
And one made even better - refreshingly and all too rarely - by not being spotted, interrupted or papped even once. Bliss.
>
>
25th July 2017
Jeff arrives on Tuesday morning, flying in on the red-eye from LAX for a number meetings with the publicists and the label, to lock down the final details of the tour.
Eloise returns home late that night after a long day with an editorial photographer.
She inadvertently interrupts their final meeting of the day, as they pick at takeaway sushi whilst looking over papers spread out across the coffee table.
Sniggering quietly to herself as only an inappropriately tipsy person can, she misses their bemused looks as she not so stealthily bundles into the house, rebounding off the marble island unit as she pulls off her heels. She playfully tiptoes into the living room, only to stumble into the sofa and flop down, face first, right into Harry's lap.
Having braced her shoulder just in time to soften the impact, he bursts out laughing. "Everything okay down there, babe?".
She mumbles something indecipherable into his lap, but, with a little deduction, he just about interprets it; "Accidentally shit-faced... Champagne on set... No lunch... Oops!".
Catching Jeff's grin, he scrunches his nose fondly as he looks down and rakes her hair over her shoulder.
With a concerted effort, she flips herself on to her side, but inadvertently turns the wrong way, so she ends up facing him.
"Oops!", she snorts before calling out "Hi Jeff", without turning around.
"Oh, hello El... Didn't notice you come in", he replies, deadpan, setting her off.
When Tommy, on the phone from the office in LA, pipes up with "Hi Eloise!", she absolutely loses it, making Harry crease into laughter too. Even an exasperated Jeff huffs a laugh.
She's silly and flirty and absolutely getting in the way of them wrapping up their work for the day.
Despite promising to be good, she can't resist getting comfy and nosing her face under his t-shirt into his lower abs, pressing spongy open-mouthed kisses down his happy trail, sniggering all the while. He gives up when she blows a massive raspberry above his hip.
"Right, that's it!", he pretends to be stern, hoisting her up and throwing her mercilessly over his shoulder.
"Sorry, urgent meeting!", he throws back to Jeff, trying to keep a straight face as he strides across the hall.
"Hey! You're never that eager for my meetings", Jeff sasses.
"Yeah, well, no offence, but I'm not quite as emotionally invested in your gag reflex, am I?", he shouts crudely back, laughing as he swats at her flailing arms whilst kicking open the door to his office.
"Forget it, Tommy... We'll have to pick this up tomorrow", he hears Jeff sigh into the phone before the door swings closed.
Through it, he then hears him swiftly up the volume on the TV that had been playing quietly in the background.
Good man.
>
Harry keeps the lights dim and deposits Eloise on his desk.
Finally able to take a proper look at her, he takes in the sexy, smudgy make-up, tousled blow dry and the fitted black mini dress that she definitely wasn't wearing when she left the house this morning.
"Ooh, is this new?", he whispers appreciatively, running a finger down her side, over the opulent fabric.
"Mmm hmm", she shrugs nonchalantly, "Sweet-talked the stylist". Batting her eyelashes playfully, she bites her lip as she holds his intense gaze.
"Fuck, you look like sex on legs", he groans, tugging hers apart so he can step between them to get closer.
"How drunk are you, hmm?", he asks sceptically, clocking her more co-ordinated demeanour.
He tips her chin up to look her straight in the eyes; focused and clear.
"It was only a couple of glasses, H. Give me some credit!", she grins naughtily, now notably in control of all her faculties.
He gapes in disbelief, quickly smirking at her.
"What?", she asks with faux innocence. "Just an actress, in a black dress", she sing-songs his own lyrics back at him, making him burst out laughing at her cunning.
He wraps a hand around the nape of her neck and pulls her closer. "Driving me crazy, that's for sure", he bites out against her lips before they crash together in a heated, handsy kiss.
He drops his down to her neck, which she extends as she arches her back, pressing her chest up into his hands. She bites her lip again as he lathes back up the column of her long neck, rounding to trail his tongue up the shell of her ear, making her squirm and mewl.
"Minx", he grits out in a whisper, flexing his hips into hers. "Fuck, I need you. So badly".
Gasping for breath, she pushes at his broad shoulders until he takes the hint and drops heavily into his desk chair, wobbling as it swivels a little.
Her eyes flit between his intent gaze and him tugging at his smirking lips, as she dips her fingers teasingly under the hem of her dress to peel down her black lacy knickers and step demurely out of them.
Dancing her fingers back up her thighs she grips the hem of her dress and shimmies it higher and higher, up towards her hips.
His eyes snap to the teasing flash as she kneels on his chair to straddle him.
Clocking his audible gulp as she slides forward to connect their hips, she delights in the press of his notable bulge. The fabric of his black sweatpants lends scant friction against her bare heat.
"I've been thinking about you, about this, all day...", she whispers sultrily, tugging his grey t-shirt swiftly over his head.
Sneaking his right hand between her legs from behind, he trails his fingers between her lips, making her gasp. "Mmm, I can tell". He claims her others with his own, impressively multi-tasking whilst his other hand grapples with the zip of her dress.
His persistence pays off and he soon has it over her head and her black lacy bra off, to have her naked in his lap, eyebrows raised and smirking wantonly.
That can't have taken more than ten seconds flat. She's impressed. All the more so given all his blood was evidently rushing south.
As his hands wander and take in all her tanned skin on display, she buries hers in his hair and on his neck, surging in for another kiss, moaning both at his thumbs rounding her pebbling nipples and the anticipation of what's to come.
Breaking the contact of their cores only momentarily, she leans closer to keep their lips together whilst kneeling up slightly to tug at his waistband. Nudging his hips up, she pulls his boxers and sweatpants down his muscular thighs in one fell swoop.
His hard length rebounding against her core has them both gasping into each others mouths.
Lengthy sighs sing out as she sinks straight down again, smoothly taking him to the hilt.
>
With his feet braced firmly on the floor against the swivelling motion of the chair, a light sheen of sweat soon coats their skin as their hushed pants, moans and groans spill into the small room.
He smirks as she groans out a ragged "Fuck, H", before she shifts suddenly back, grabbing at her left hamstring. "Fuck, fuck... Cramp!".
"Oh, shit!", he gasps, lifting her out of his lap and back on to the desk, before quickly standing and massaging the muscle of her thigh firmly with his large hand.
She groans again, this time in relief, pulling him in closer, between her parted legs.
"Is that helping?", he bites out, head buried in her neck, eyes cast down at the quivering muscles of her leg.
"Mmm, keep going", she begs, her own gaze locked firmly on his glistening, straining cock.
"You have just proved you can multi-task...", she grins, sliding closer to the edge of the desk as she wraps her fingers around his length, pumping a few times before pulling him closer and lining them back up. They moan in harmony as he slides back home whilst his strong fingers continue to work their magic, burrowing into the bunched muscle of her thigh.
With his eyes firmly closed in concentration, he's soon hammering into her, hips pistoning and grinding as they chase their release.
>
Having come back down to earth, she sheepishly tugs up her knickers and pulls on his t-shirt before gathering her dress and bra under her arm. She steps close to peek over his bare shoulder as he looks around the doorframe for Jeff.
Not seeing him in the living room, she nudges Harry forward. Tip toeing cautiously into the kitchen, she soon yelps in surprise as he steps out from behind the open fridge door.
He shakes his head ruefully, chuckling. "So, can I have him back now?", Jeff sasses.
"Briefly!", she laughs, acquiescing as she skips up the stairs. "Sorry, not sorry, Jeffrey", she trills smugly over her shoulder like the cat that got the cream.
>
After a quick shower, she heads back downstairs, feeling only slightly guilty to see them sitting in front of their papers again.
In the kitchen, making a round of drinks in the hopes of appeasing Jeff, she checks that they're actually finished before heading back to the living room.
Hearing their affirmations, she impulsively snags the bottles of gin and tonic and adds them to her tray, alongside the three glasses.
>
>
30th July 2017
Eloise woke Harry up on Wednesday morning, whining about her breakfast interview as she begrudgingly kissed him goodbye in bed.
His hangover melted quickly into a nagging listlessness, apprehensive at the sense of their time together dwindling.
He's not heading to LA for another month or so, but knows their time together will soon be dictated by her shoot schedule and his intense rehearsals. Admittedly, he's not being fair; after all, it's usually his schedule wreaking havoc. But, confronted with quite how powerless it feels, he realises he doesn't like it; not one bit.
But he reined it in, and, true to his word, upon getting her green light texts that the crews seemed discrete, dutifully headed across London to various photography studios and location shoots to support her.
As much as he loved seeing her in her element and watching other people fall helplessly under her spell too, he can't quite shake the sense of unease he feels at being the one on the sidelines for once.
He's seen her in action before - at photoshoots, on movie sets, performing as Daisy, in trailers, and even at her own movie premiere - but it's somehow only seeing her interacting with strangers as 'the talent' and the centre of attention that he realised quite how much her star has already quietly risen.
She's destined for big things - and deservedly so - but he's self-aware enough to recognise when he's being an arsehole. Realising he'll need to fight that bit harder for her attention, he felt immediately guilty for even a passing moment of resentment.
But he can't quite shake it.
It was only a tiny, niggling thought, but one that seems to have worryingly taken root.
>
His disappointment is confounded when she can't get out of the Netflix industry dinner tonight after all. So much for some final quality time together.
Outwardly, he'd taken it well enough, insisting she was being unnecessarily apologetic when she'd sheepishly surprised him earlier this morning with breakfast in bed.
They'd have struggled to escape for their loosely mooted date night anyway. Jeff's still staying at the house, and Mitch and Tom are due to arrive later today, having flown in from LA for rehearsals. Mitch will be staying with them too.
Harry makes a real effort to hide his disappointment, but, still feeling guilty, she's actively looking for it, so they end up slightly awkwardly tip toeing around each other.
There's a vibe, and it's unsettling to them both.
>
But, soon enough, there's a timely distraction.
Sarah, Adam and Claire had also headed over that afternoon for a relaxed catch-up before they all need to buckle down for rehearsals.
The drinks are cracked open and they all let off a little steam.
Niall, as if sniffing out the cold beers, happens to drop by too and proves eager as ever to join in the fun.
The noisy and rowdy atmosphere floats up the stairs, and only serves to make Eloise even more resentful of her dinner, as she sits at the dressing table, finishing her make-up.
She's on a self-sabotaging go-slow, but she can't quite snap out of it.
Her ringing phone does just that.
It's Phoebe, asking her to open the gate as they're just around the corner.
"Shit! The time ran away with me", she apologises. "I'll need a few more minutes, sorry".
"In that case, can you let me in? I'm bursting for a wee", Phoebe barters.
"Oh, of course, no problem". She hangs up and jumps up, heading for the stairs. "H?", she calls down.
"YEAH?!", he hollers goofily back.
"Please can you open the gate and let Phoebe in? She needs the loo. I'll be down in just a minute".
>
True to her word, Eloise scurries down the stairs just a few minutes later, with heels and a jacket clutched in one hand as she holds the ruffled silk sleeveless blouse to her chest.
Harry looks her up and down, smirking as he cops an eyeful as she bends to step into her heels in front of him.
"What?", she catches his eye, feeling self-conscious, all dolled up in comparison to his sweatpants.
"Nothing! You look great...", he smirks, "That's, umm, a really unique look". He masks his snigger with a cough.
He steps close, making her squirm as he trails his fingers up the groove of her bared spine as he gets started on the fiddly buttons up the back of her top.
"What?", she repeats, frowning at Sarah as she steps into the kitchen.
"Oh!", she smiles sweetly, "You look gorgeo-".
She's cut off by a bark of laughter. "No way!", Phoebe cackles from behind her, making Harry lose it too as she turns to look over his shoulder.
Her jaw drops seeing her. They've unwittingly chosen identical outfits. Tailored tuxedo trousers, a silky white blouse, black jacket, statement heels and even a matching bold lip.
"Oh, come on!" Eloise laughs, swatting at Harry's abs as she steps out of his reach to head back to the stairs. "Let me quickly find something else".
Thinking twice, she twirls back to him and pulls her hair out the way for him to undo all the buttons he'd just fastened.
"Wait, wait!", Phoebe calls, handing Harry her phone as she pulls Eloise into a side hug. "Dancing Emoji twins, go!". They strike the pose.
>
Eloise emerges back downstairs just a few minutes later to a round of cat-calls, dressed this time in the fitted black mini dress she'd acquired earlier in the week. It's a little dressier than she'd intended, but the first thing she'd laid eyes on.
"If you don't, I will...", Niall calls to Harry, before promptly throwing his head back and belting out "Little black dress just walked into the room", to everyone else's amusement.
Harry just reaches over to smack him round the head. "How about you find a girlfriend of your own and stop perving on mine?", he sasses.
"Hey! Be nice", Eloise admonishes flatly as she bends to fasten her heels. "Don't take out being pissy at me on him", she levels him a look as she stands up straight.
"I'm not pissy", he huffs. "I get that you have to do this...", he relents, wrapping a hand around her hip to pull her close. "If anything I'm only pissy that you're spending an evening looking like this and I won't get to enjoy it", he whines lowly.
"Oh, H... I'll be back as soon as I can sneak off, alright? I promise".
She cheekily necks his wine, then gives him a quick kiss, carefully swiping off the vermillion red from his lower lip.
"Oh, hang on!", Phoebe pipes up again, snagging Eloise around the waist for another photo before they head out the door, arm in arm.
She posts a dual 'Twinning / Winning' Instagram post from the car as they head to Mayfair.
>
Eloise returns home just before 10pm, schmoozed out and having begged off the after dinner drinks on account of needing to be fresh for filming tomorrow.
She finds them spread around the dimly lit living room; mellowed out, drunk on too much red wine, lolling on the sofas, listening to music and chatting shit.
Seven comfy, casual outfits... And one little black dress.
She does at least kick off the stilettos after Harry pulls her swiftly down on to his lap.
Knowing her looming early call time means she'll need to head up to bed soon enough, he's intent on not wasting another minute of their time together.
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