The next three days passed so quickly. We had such a good time that I didn't want this to end.

— You won't forget to send me a message as soon as you get to Paris?
— Don't worry about me, what do you expect to happen to me with two sons as bodyguards?

A laugh escaped my mouth. My mother gave me a kiss on the cheek and whispered to me to look after myself, then got on the train, quickly followed by Charlie. It came to the moment where I had to say goodbye to Harry. He put down the bag he had just lifted and stared at the floor.

— Stop making a goodbye so complicated, I said, smiling.

He wasn't particularly sensitive, but he always struggled with these moments.

— You know I'm always afraid something will happen to you, I'm always afraid this will be goodbye for good, Liz.
— Harry, I insisted, putting my hands on his cheeks, we don't know what's going to happen, but I'm never going to let anything separate me from you, so you've got nothing to worry about, you'll see me soon, okay?

He swallowed and nodded.

— Thank you, Liz. I'm going to miss you.

I hugged him.

— You too, Harry. And don't forget to let me know about the girl.

He dragged his feet to the train and finally got on after a final exchange of glances. Through the window, I saw him sit down next to Mum and opposite to Charlie. The departure bell rang and my family waved their hands in greeting. The train pulled away until it disappeared from my field of vision.

I inhaled sharply to calm my sadness, as a cool breeze caressed my hair. Putting my bag back on my shoulder, I walked out of the station and back to my flat.

The sunlight flooded into my living room. I pulled the curtains a little before tidying up. I glanced at the clock, which said nine o'clock, when someone knocked at my door. As I wasn't expecting anyone, I was slightly worried. Checking my mobile, I noticed that I hadn't received any notification. As I didn't have a peephole, I approached the door cautiously.

— Eve? I exclaimed as I saw her holding two bottles of rosé and a bag. What are you doing here?
— A lady came out of the building, so I snuck in, but otherwise I thought it'd been a long time since we'd had a takeaway from one of our favorite places, and as my flat is a big mess, I came here.

She came into my house waving her short hair. I smiled, delighted by her visit. Once the door was closed behind us, she put the bottles and bag on the kitchen counter and connected her phone to my speaker. I was checking out her black lace top, leather trousers and ankle boots when I heard the melody of Drunk in Love, The Weeknd's remix. Enthusiastic, I quickly joined her in the middle of the living room, where she had already started dancing.

I've been thinking, I've been thinking
Why can't I keep my fingers off you, baby?
I want you, na na

While we were screaming and swaying without any embarrassment, my phone rang. It only took one look for her to stop the music and for me to pick it up, after calming my breathing.

— Good afternoon Sibylline! I exclaimed too loudly.
— Good evening, Elizabeth, she replied in a surprised voice. Are you well?

Great, I've got a good evening to a good afternoon, I feel silly now.

— Well, everything's fine, and you?
— I wanted to ask you if you were still going to write your article on criminals?

I frowned, as she had never question my choices in the past.

— Yes, why? Is something wrong?
— Absolutely not, it's just that the idea seemed to have come to you on the spot, I didn't know if you wanted to keep it or if you found it too tricky to deal with.
— Do you think that writing an article about the fact that some criminals have a "good heart" is a tricky thing to do? I really want to do it because I think we need to stop demonising them. Not everything is black and white. I chose this subject after seeing a controversy on Twitter about it. At first, I didn't feel quite ready, but now I know the path I'm going to take.
— I'm aware that you're a daring person and I admire you enormously for that, but I just wanted to make sure that you were still one hundred per cent into it.
— I am, I said without a doubt.
— All right, I can't wait to see how it turns out then.

Appearing reassured, she hung up.

I looked at my mobile phone before staring into my best friend's green eyes. She too seemed a little lost.

— Did I hear her wrong or did she ask you if you were thinking of changing the subject of your article?
— You heard right. Anyway, I'm not going to let her cloud of doubt affect me.
— Come on, she said, dragging me along after turning the music back on. Come on, Lizzy, move your hips!

I loved this side of Eve, where I didn't need to repeat things. I laughed as she put her hands on my hips to create movements in sync with hers. Although reluctant at first, I soon began to move my arms and hair in all directions. The room was spinning before my eyes as I felt as if I were moving in slow motion.

After we'd raved about five songs, she took off her shoes. I walked over to the kitchen counter and offered her a drink. She looked at me with a bewildered expression.

— Me? Wanting a drink now? What an idea.

Shaking my head, I served each of us.

— Delicious I said with my lips.
— Garrus can indeed be quite delicious, she said in a professional voice, standing up straight.
— It must have cost you a fortune!

She winked at me.

— Well, it wasn't me who bought them. Do you remember when my parents came over a month ago and we had to go to a friend's house that was really loaded?
— Yeah.
— They had bought two bottles of Garrus for who knows how many euros, so as not to show up empty-handed, and they ended up forgetting them at the flat when they left in a rush.

She shrugged, then climbed down from the high chair, adding:

— So we've got quality rosé for ourselves!
— But are you sure you don't want to save the second bottle for another occasion?

She approached me and put her hand on my shoulder with a serious expression.

— There will never be a better opportunity to drink rosé while my best friend and I pretend to be bourgeoise women married to eighty-nine year olds: so yes, I'm sure I'll want to open it, she smiled at me. Oh my God! she suddenly exclaimed. How super embarrassing it was on Thursday when Gerard's girlfriend moaned by his laptop.

I could remember the incident so vividly so that I started hysterically laughing.

— Oh my God, yes! During the online meeting! Can you imagine? The whole editorial team heard, the poor guy, he turned red in an eighth of a second. It was just the best thing.
— But wait, can you imagine? He was touching her while he was telling us about his next article? There's a certain mindset you've got to have...

I laughed again.

— I guess you're right. Everyone has their delusions, listen, but did you hear what Sibylline mumbled?
— No, I didn't. What did she say?

Struggling to keep from bursting out laughing, I explained.

— She said, and I quote, "If only he could write with the same quality as the mobility of his hands".
— Bloody hell! Sib said that and I didn't hear? Well, it seems that Gerard didn't hear either, and fortunately not, because you know how quickly he gets offended.
— Yup.

We exchanged glances and laughed. I couldn't believe that this had happened, or that Eve didn't hear Sibylline's comment. In all fairness, it may have been a good thing since she would have hysterically laughed on camera. The rest of the evening flew by. We played the songs that came over the loudspeaker. With two bottles of wine down, we weren't thinking straight.

After a hundred songs, a broken glass and a few sprained ankles, we finally dozed off in the living room.

— Ow, my head! I heard close to my ear. Oh fuck, my ankles.

No longer feeling the warmth I'd felt a few moments earlier, I concluded that Eve had risen from the bed — or rather the floor. As I took my time coming back down to earth, I realised that the sunlight that was normally supposed to burn my eyelids was nowhere to be seen. As I tried to move my arms, I felt them tingle because they were being crushed by the weight of my body.

— Er, Lizzy, tell me your mobile's been acting up, added Eve in a hoarse voice.
— Eve? I asked in an incredibly broken voice.

My God, our voices.

— Who else? she said.

Then I started to open my eyes and saw thick grey clouds through the window. As I struggled to raise my head, I saw Eve standing there, tapping my mobile phone against her left palm.

— What the hell are you doing?

She showed me the lock screen on my phone.

— Tell me it's not four o'clock.
— No! I exclaimed when I saw 4.19p.m. displayed on it. It can't be!

I jumped to my feet, ignoring the stabs in the back of my neck, and looked at the clock in the living room: 4.20p.m.

— Did we sleep eleven hours straight?

She laughs.

— I think so. And my God, Elizabeth, don't shout, especially for the sake of your voice.

I gave her a pat, laughing in turn, before looking at the damage from the evening: a few sprinkles on the floor, the boxes upside down, clothes and accessories everywhere... and a broken glass. We exchanged glances and decided to tidy up quietly.

After she left, I drank soup and went to bed early to recover from my horrible hangover. However, it had to be said that this girl time had been just what I needed.