Rock Me


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20. Next Week

Harry's POV

"I'm getting married next week, mate," I say in disbelief.

"I know," Niall laughs as we watch the derby game.

"It's unbelievable," I whisper.

"How so? You were the one that proposed, remember?" Niall continues to laugh.

"Niall, you know what I mean."

"Elaborate, please."

I sit up on Niall's plush couch in his flat and look at him.

"Niall. I'm getting married. Next week. Married," I say, making awkward hand gestures.

"Wow," he sighs.

"I know," I close my eyes and lean back against the couch.

"No, no. Wow as in 'I can't believe you're getting married before me'."

"Niall," I groan, making him crack-up all over again.

"Have you talked to any of the girls since we left London?" he asks.

Since Olivia is a huge believer in superstitions, she sent the groomsmen and I here to Dublin until the day of the wedding, and her and the bridal party are staying in London at the penthouse.

"No. Actually, Eleanor called today to ask where Olivia's breathing stuff is."

"She's still struggling with that?" Niall asks, his eyes going wide.

"Yeah. The doctor told her to get more sunlight, but London is so cloudy and all she's been focusing on is wedding planning."

"Then how is she getting her vitamin c?" Niall asks.

"Its actually really cute and funny," I laugh, thinking of what the doctor is forcing her to wear until after the wedding. "She has this light corset thing that straps around her stomach and shines light on her lungs. She hates it."

Niall opens his mouth to talk but the rest of the guys bound through the door with takeout and a twelve pack of bud light. Tom raises an eyebrow as he holds up a bottle of the hard liquor and I shake my head.

"Mate, you're whipped!" Louis laughs, taking a seat next to Niall, handing him a beer.

"Proud of it," I mumble. "Right. Well, I better be off. I'll see you all in the morning for another tux fitting. Be ready, please," I say, reminding myself of my fiancée.

"Whipped!" they all shout as I gab my jacket and close the heavy metallic door behind me.

Normally, I would have stayed and enjoyed the night with them. But I promised both myself and Eleanor, who made me promise for Olivia that I would stay sober until the wedding, with the exception of my bachelor party.

Honestly though. I just want to be at home with her. And instead I'm in Ireland.

Olivia's POV

"No," I say. "I don't know. No."

"Olivia, work with me," Rydelle presses. I crash against the mound of pillows on me and Harry's bed, sinking into the comfort of his scent.

"I don't know, Ry. I just want to sleep," I groan.

"Harry said you're supposed to rate you're ability to breathe on a scale of 1-5-"

"1 being the worst, 5 being okay. Rydelle, I know. I know. I rate it so he can help me adjust the corset. But I'm fine. So 5."

"Why are you so damn stubborn?" Rydelle asks, laying down next to me and flipping on the large television mounted onto the wall above our fireplace. What kind of bedroom has a fireplace? Oh right. Mine.

"Because I am," I sigh, watching as she looks through the list of recordings. Of course, Downton Abbey is recorded for my benefit. And Harry has Breaking Bad recorded. And we're both obsessed with Resurrection. She ends up choosing a movie we agreed on recording last week, 'Mama Mia'. Ironic, huh?

As the movie begins with Sophie dropping off the invitations on the main land, my phone rings. Rydelle groans and pauses her favorite movie.

Without looking at the caller ID, I answer the call.

"Hello?" I mumble.

"You sound tired," his voice says in its raspy gloriousness.

"Really? That's weird. I'm wide awake."

"Hello, my darling," he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Hey," I smile.

"What are you up to? Are you wearing your corset?"

"Watching Mama Mia with Rydelle, Ironically. And yes, I'm wearing the stupid corset."

"Okay, okay. I'll let you watch your movie. I'm back at the hotel anyways, so I'll be headed to bed before long."

"Hotel?" I look at Rydelle. Her and Niall's flat is plenty big to house at least five of the boys.

"Yeah, with all the stuff going on, I'll need to fall asleep somewhere quiet so I can clear my head."

At this point, he's on speaker.

"What hotel?" Rydelle asks as though she knows Dublin like the back of her hand.

"The Sollinger," he says. Rydelle's eyes widen.

"That's a really nice hotel-" I cut her off.

"Okay then! Hey baby?"

"Yeah?" he asks, sounding preoccupied.

"I think Rydelle and I are going to go get tattoos tomorrow."

"What? You can't get a tattoo without me! You agreed to let me be there when you get your first tattoo."

"Baby, I know. And since you can't be here, it will be for you. I already decided I want it and its for you to see the night of the wedding," I say.

"Okay. Well I can't wait to see it," he says. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Good night," and the line goes dead.

Eleanor's POV

"Lets go! We have to go to the bakery for cake tasting and then another fitting!" I call as I walk upstairs. This penthouse is massive. Anyways, Rydelle is staying upstairs with Olivia and the rest of us have rooms either downstairs or on the kitchen level.

Wow, this place is gargantuan. I mean, what kind of penthouse takes up three floors? Oh right, this one. Because Harry Styles has the money to buy and renovate as many floors as he wants.

I laugh at my thoughts as I continue up the stairs.

"Come on, lazy bones!" I say, walking into Olivia and Harry's huge bedroom.

One glance at the lifeless, unmade bed and I begin to panic. Where could they have gone? Is Olivia sick again? Did Bo come back?

My mind is going a million miles a minute as I try not to jump to conclusions until I hear laughter coming from the closet.

Olivia has only showed me the closet once, but it's bigger than my parents' house. There's racks of clothing lining the wall, then stairs leading up to another floor of clothing. A door way on the second floor leads to a dressing room that has a counter lining the wall, where her jewelry and perfumes are displayed, and another door leads to a bathroom.

And all the while, all I can think about is how they have quite the hike to get to their bathroom in the middle of the night, or any time for that matter.

As I open the set of French doors that lead to the closet, Olivia and Rydelle come into view. They're opening pink dressing bags and lining then on hooks. Then the white dressing bag is sprawled out on the stairs.

"What's going on here?" I ask.

"We're setting up our fitting," Olivia smiles as she leans over and kisses both my cheeks. "Good morning to you, too!"

I laugh when I realize what is going on. As soon as we're back from cake tasting, we'll be having our fitting here.

"Any reason why we're having it here?" I ask.

"Because we can," Rydelle laughs and holds up her phone, showing me a text from the seamstress.

From Beatrice: Of course! I'll bring over the dresses later tonight and we'll have the fitting after your cake tasting tomorrow!

I laugh again. They had Beatrice bring the dresses over at 10:00 last night.

"I think we're all going insane from being in this penthouse too much. Can we go now?" I ask.

"Yup," Olivia says, grabbing her purse and following Rydelle and I out of the closet, being sure to close the doors on her way out.

Harry's POV

When the doorbell rings at six in the morning, most people won't answer it. They'll go back to sleep. And for whatever reason, I answered the door.

"Hello, Harry."

My stomach drops at the sight of Olivia's brother.

"Chris," I gulp, trying to form a coherent sentence.

"You've met Dax before, I'm sure," Chris says as he lets himself in, followed by a man slightly shorter than me, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes so intense that it hurts your peripheral  vision.

"Um, no," I say, closing the door. "What are you, uh... what are you doing in Ireland?" I ask, rubbing the back of my neck and squinting my eyes so they'll adjust to fluorescent light of the suite.

"Well I called up your friend Liam. Asked him why you weren't in London with my sister-"

"How did you know I wasn't in London?" I ask.

"That's beside the point. Harry, this is Daxon, otherwise known as Dax."

"Okay?" I say, beginning to fall into the unknown world of confusion.

"Dax is Olivia's ex-boyfriend."

 

 

 

 

 

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