(No Control | Holding Me Ransom - 87 - Running Over Thoughts That Make My Feet Hurt) 

When I wake up on Sunday (late) Jess has texted: Louis and I were seen by a photographer at Heathrow. They got some pictures of us . Just wanted to warn you xxx

And so has Louis: Papped at Heathrow with Jess. Don't lose your shit ;)

I roll over in bed and read the news article about it (how on earth can anyone possibly call this news?) and then check Twitter. The fans are in meltdown, calling Jess every name under the sun. They have recognised her from previous pictures of us together and of course the infamous kiss with Louis, and have decided she is coming between Louis and me, and Louis and Danielle. Some of the things they are saying about her are vile - home-wrecker, slut, bitch, skank, ugly, whore, snake... it's horrific. I can only hope Jess hasn't succumbed to the temptation of reading her Twitter mentions because I think she will be pretty upset about this.  

I ring her and she answers straight away. "Hi Squidge."

"Hi baby. I just woke up and saw your texts about the paps at Heathrow. Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she sighs. "Pissed off, annoyed, and wishing we could go back to the start and rewrite history, but apart from that I'm OK. I made the mistake of reading my Twitter mentions after Louis and I were spotted. I won't be doing that again in a hurry."

Damn. "I just had a quick look myself," I admit.

"Did you see the one remarking that I was happy to spread my legs in any direction? That has to be a personal favourite."

Thankfully I didn't see that one.

"Just ignore it all," I tell her softly. "Everyone will always have an opinion, and a clever comment to make, but they only matter if you let them affect you."

"Wise words."

"I'm a wise kind of guy," I smile. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too," she murmurs. "I'm literally counting the days until you're home again."

"Same," I murmur back. "Fourteen to go."

"Stop being soppy," calls a voice in the background.

"Who's that?" I wonder.

"Callie and Sarah are here. We're catching up over a couple of bottles of wine."

Ho hum. Callie was quick off the mark to get round to Jess's. Let's just hope she's working with me instead of against me now.

"Sounds like fun," I smile.

"Sarah wants to rent my flat," she announces suddenly.

"Oh!" I exclaim. "That's great news!"

"Yeah, so I'm going to have to get myself in gear to sort it out," she says. "I'll have plenty of time while you're away. It'll keep me busy."

"Excellent," I beam. "If you want a solicitor to draw up a contract I can organise it for you, or at least arrange a meeting to discuss it."

"Thanks, that would be helpful. But there's no rush."

"So, was the flight OK, apart from the paps at Heathrow? Louis keep his hands to himself did he?"

"It was fine," Jess replies, and I can hear the smile in her voice. "And of course he did. He's with Danielle. He seems pretty loved up."

I know he is, and I know I'm being a prat. But hey, she knows I'm a prat so surely she just expects this now? I don't know whether any answer she could give me to that question would make me feel good so I decide not to ask.

"I hope you won't be too jetlagged tomorrow," I tell her. "Try and go to bed at normal time tonight to get your body back in sync."

"I will," she promises. "I'm back at work tomorrow so I need a good night's sleep."

"Especially after all the busy nights over here," I leer, and she giggles.

"Yes, especially after those. I'd better go, I don't want to be rude while Callie and Sarah are here."

"Have a good evening baby. Love you."

"Love you too."

So. Callie is round there now, is she?

I resist the urge to text her to remind her not to spill the beans about my anniversary plans, but I'm now wide awake and obsessing over what Callie is up to. I search online for a blue shirt identical to the one I was wearing the night we met, as I feel it's only right that everything should look the same as it did that night, to recreate our first meeting. I contemplate texting Callie to tell her to make sure Jess wears the same outfit, and then decide against this for several reasons. The first being that I don't want to appear some crazy control freak and the second being I don't know whether Callie would even remember what Jess was wearing the night we met. I sort of remember but I haven't seen her wear the top since and if I start asking about it surely it will just arouse suspicion? Some things are better left in the lap of the gods.

I manage to find a very similar blue shirt in my size the following day after trawling through endless websites for more than two hours, and order it to my LA address because I can't risk it arriving in London in case Jess sees it and catches on to the surprise. Mum and Robin fly back home the following day, and the day after that I head into Beverly Hills to get my outfit fitted for the pre-Grammys gala in a few days' time. I meet Jeff and Glenne there, and Jeff and I spend an hour standing still and turning when instructed as our suits are measured and fitted. I tell them about my plans for our anniversary and they are both excited for me. 

"I gotta tell you Harry, I absolutely love Jess," Glenne tells me as I'm pulling my jacket back on. "I really feel like she just gets everything. You know what I mean? Like she just fits in. There's no drama with her, she doesn't crave attention, she's happy to learn the way you do things. I don't mean that to sound patronising!" she assures me when I look up. "Far from it! What I mean is, when you first met her and she came over here to visit you I did wonder - well, we both did - " (she looks over at Jeff who nods), " - how she would cope with fitting into your life with, like, zero experience of the way it works. But she's so laid back, she just goes with the flow. And to be fair," she adds, with a hesitant glance in Jeff's direction, "all the drama was caused by you, not her."

"So dramatic," Jeff admonishes, rolling his eyes at me and then cracking up laughing as I reach over and try to flick his arm. I accept the receipt from the tailor with a smile and check the date of the final fitting - it's in a couple of days' time.

"What I'm trying to say," Glenne finishes with an exasperated look at Jeff, "is that I think you and Jess are great together. She gets you, and you get her. She obviously makes you happy and that's really all I care about. Because you deserve someone who will make you as happy as you seem to make everyone else."

Jeff pretends to wipe a tear away. "That was so beautiful."

"Will you shut up," Glenne sighs tolerantly.

"Yeah, shut up," I agree, frowning theatrically and jabbing my index finger towards my own chest. "I make people happy. You just annoy everyone." I stab my finger back at him to accentuate my point, and turn on my heel to flounce out of the door. Unfortunately it's one of those slow-opening ones and I stumble awkwardly into the gap as Jeff and Glenne crack up laughing behind me. 

~~~

I wake up to a text from Callie the following morning that contains a link. I'm wary to open until I read the accompanying message:

I guessed Jess's icloud password. I've downloaded all the photos of the two of you, and your text and Whatsapp conversations too. Don't worry, I didn't read them. I've saved everything to a new remote cloud, just click the link I've sent you and you'll be able to see everything. Just make sure you tell her asap that you're busy on the date of your anniversary. Don't let her get carried away organising anything extravagant for you!

I click the link with trepidation (I'm still not a hundred percent sure I trust Callie after everything) but it appears she is true to her word. There are photos here I haven't seen before, obviously all from Jess's phone, and it's strange (but fabulous) to see these moments that I have lived and remember so clearly, taken from someone else's perspective. There aren't that many, but I scroll through them all several times, feeling my mouth beaming involuntarily as I study every inch of each one: her smile, the sparkle in her eyes, the grains of sand on her cheek, the drops of pool water glistening on the strands of her hair, the soft fabric of the fuck-me dress and the way it clings to every curve of her body. I pause on this one, my eyes travelling over the swell of her breasts, imagining I can see her nipples through the fabric and remembering the feel of them in my mouth. 

I'm getting hard, and decide a it's time for a bit of self-indulgence. I roll onto my back and scroll through the pictures of us with my left hand, my right hand in my shorts. It doesn't take long before I'm grunting in pleasure, imagining her hand on my dick and her lips on mine as I come. I lie still afterwards, breathing deeply and mentally calculating the number of days until I can turn my fantasy into a reality. 

Once I've showered I pull on some comfy clothes and head downstairs to save all Jess's photos to my laptop. I read through all our conversations that Callie has sent me but to be honest there isn't anything here that I don't have on my own phone (I haven't deliberately deleted a single message conversation since having an iPhone) but I'm guessing Jess had deleted everything so I'll assume she would want this back as well. I decide to create a slideshow of pictures (not just Jess's, but mine too), and begin scrolling through my own phone to select the best ones. I take screenshots of my favourite text conversations and slot these in between some of the photographs. I make sure I only select ones I wouldn't mine anyone else reading, as I'm now thinking I could arrange for this slideshow to be playing on a screen somewhere at the house party while Ellie sings Love Me Like You Do. 

It's several hours before my project is complete, and once it's done I send a quick text back to Callie.

Thank you so much for sending me these. I really am so grateful. Harry.

Ah bollocks, I put my name at the end of the message. I feel like she's going to pick me up on that.

You don't need to thank me. Jess loves you and you make her happy. That's all I've ever wanted for her. I have her One Direction stuff here for you whenever you want to come and get it. Callie. 

OK she's definitely take the piss by putting her own name at the end of her message. But I get the impression it's a harmless piss-take, rather than a sly dig of the past. 

I won't be back in London until 22nd February but I'll text you nearer the time to arrange picking it up if that's ok? Harry. 

I'll be waiting on the edge of my seat. Callie. 

She's a sarcastic witch, but I'm definitely relieved she's with me rather than against me. I never want to be on wrong side of that girl again as long as I live. 

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Happy Saturday! Or Sunday, depending where in the world you are! Another update for you, I hope you enjoy it - I haven't done much writing this week as I've been busy with other stuff but I'm hoping to get back to it next week xx