Alex's POV
When I'd finally made it home, I walked into the living room, which was now only lit with the dim light of the lamps, and threw my jacket over the back of a chair and my keys down on the table. Olivia was snuggled up on the sofa, with one of the blankets – I usually keep out in case Jack ever crashes down here – over her; the same show she was enjoying before still playing. Must be a marathon of some kind.

She was startled by the sound of the keys hitting the table and jumped up, a light giggle escaping her lips as she realised it was just me. I couldn't help but smile. "Hey," she chirped, seemingly in a much better mood, she sat up and paused her show, "did you have fun?"

"Yeah," I nodded, chuckling a little as I remembered the faces of my shocked best friends as I revealed my secrets. I slowly made my way over and flopped down onto the opposite sofa, closing my eyes and yawning. I heard Olivia laugh.

"You promised pizza," she reminded me, a mock-stern look on her face when I opened my eyes again.

"I'm a man of my word," I smiled as I fished my phone from my pocket. We took an extensive amount of time deciding our orders before I finally made the call and then we sat quietly as we watched her show. She excitedly explained the premise of it to me, pointing and gesturing when her favourite to win came on screen and assuring me constantly that it was a great show. I just smiled as I watched her passionately speak about something as insignificant as a cooking show. I remembered she'd always been passionate about the things she enjoyed; it was such an endearing quality.

Once the food arrived we plated it up and went back to our show. I sat beside her now, which wasn't a big deal but my heartbeat still increased, if only marginally. We sat and ate and laughed together; celebrating when her least favourite was eliminated and crying in outrage when her favourite didn't win in the end. I hadn't had so much fun just eating pizza and watching TV in a long time.

By the time we were done and our dishes were in the sink, it was 11:25 PM and I was exhausted, but Olivia seemed wide awake. The next episode began playing and I let out a loud, obnoxious yawn which she giggled at. "Go to bed," she more suggested than demanded.

"You not tired?" I questioned, turning to face her whilst her eyes remained fixed on the television screen.

"Nope," she responded, popping the 'p' casually, "but you can go," she assured me, turning to give me a smile and then turning back almost immediately.

I took a moment, nibbling on the inside of my lip, I really wanted to ask about how off she had been earlier, whether that was also the reason she didn't want to sleep, but I wasn't sure if it was any of my business and honestly, if I didn't have all of that Dutch courage coursing through my veins I probably would've left it alone, but instead I blurted out, "Do you regret coming to stay with me?" I instantly regretted it, it sounded pathetic.

"What?" she questioned, turning to look at me now, tilting her head in confusion, "Where did you get that idea?" she shook her head, "No, not at all, I really appreciate this."

I nodded, my eyes wandering like a child not knowing where to look, "So...." I dragged out the sound, "You weren't mad earlier?" I looked her in the eyes now and she seemed taken back by my question.

"Why would I be mad at you?" she furrowed her eyebrows a little and I could see the cogs turning in her mind, trying to figure out what the hell I was talking about. I started to think maybe I'd made the whole thing up when she let a small "Ohhhh" escape her lips. "No," she smiled sympathetically at me, which made me feel even dumber, "No, I wasn't mad at you," emphasis on the 'you', so clearly she had been mad at someone.

"Do you mind me asking who?" I raised my eyebrows a little, trying not to pressure her into talking.

"It was just Derek," she waved it off, looking back at the now paused TV, avoiding eye contact, "He had some news to tell me and it wasn't great, although he was pretty happy about it," she explained, muttering the last part as though she was just saying it to herself, but I caught it.

"Ohhhh," I sighed, nodding knowingly – although I didn't know, "Do you wanna talk about it?" I offered, wincing a little in preparation for rejection.

She rested her head in her hand and pouted, turning to me she said, "Maybe." I smiled in response, she was confusing, yet adorable. "Basically, he told me all this stuff about how my dad's expanding his law firm and they're creating a branch up in New York, where Derek's family is from, and my dad wants Derek to run it and that would mean we'd have to live in New York and, don't get me wrong, I love New York, but I don't wanna be away from my family and me and Derek don't even live together back in LA, so this would be totally new to me and his parents hate me and New York is so far from home and I don't know if I'd be able to keep my contract with my current modelling agency, like they can get you work internationally, but they're located in LA, so I don't know if that'd work and-" she paused to take a deep breath and I reached out and placed a hand on her leg, comfortingly.

"Woah, slow down," I chuckled. She looked up to meet my gaze and she looked truly upset and anxious, "Take a deep breath," I instructed, no longer laughing, she did as told, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to," I insisted, rubbing her leg ever so slightly. I wasn't good with advice and I knew a cliche line like that would never actually help, but I wanted to help, "If you don't wanna live in New York, then don't."

"But it's more than just living there," she said, her tone stressed, "if I don't go then..." she paused and shook her head, "I don't even know what it would mean," she looked down.

I narrowed my eyes, not fully understanding what she meant, "No one's making you go," I insisted.

"But they are!" she snapped back, looking up with an annoyed glare which she quickly converted to an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, just, he's my fiancé, we can't live on opposite ends of the country, we'd never make it work."

"Sure you could," I tried to enthuse, although giving her relationship advice made me feel a little uneasy.

"No," she chuckled, "and I don't know if it's worth it," she looked up at me and bit her lip, seemingly shocked by her own words, "I didn't mean that," she laughed nervously, looking away.

"Are you sure?" I questioned. My heart was beating so fast, I had no idea how to play this. 98% of me wanted to talk her out of the idea; agree that it wasn't worth it, but that other 2% knew that I was just being selfish. I shouldn't want this, I shouldn't want her and her fiancé to separate, but part of me really, really did and it was scaring me.

She took a little while before responding, "I really don't know," she shot me a guilt ridden look, I rubbed her leg once more before removing my hand.

"It's okay not to know," I assured her, "You're 22, Liv," I began.

"Olivia," she interjected, correcting me. I furrowed my brow, confused by what she meant. She quickly turned to face me, also looking confused, whilst her eyes trailed off in thought. She shook her head, as if shaking the thought away, "Uh, sorry, no, call me Liv," she shot me a reassuring smile but her eyes were still full of confusion. I was a little taken aback, I used to always call her Liv and, granted we hadn't exactly been the best of friends the past couple years, I really hadn't expected her to correct me. I honestly felt a little hurt and I think Olivia picked up on it because she continued after a brief moment of silence, "I'm really sorry, everybody hates it when people call me nicknames, back home," she explained, more nervous laughter.

I narrowed my eyes a little, "Who's everyone?" I interrogated. I knew she couldn't mean her family, unless they had completely changed since I'd last seen them. I vividly remember the long list of embarrassing pet names her parents had for her; I teased her with them constantly.

Olivia shook the question off before changing the subject, "We should get some sleep," she took a peek up at me and saw that I was still looking at her questioningly. She sighed deeply, "Derek hates nicknames," she caved, looking down and playing with her hands, "It's just 'cause we go to a lot of formal events and he thinks it's impolite to use nicknames," she defended quickly, her voice pitch drastically higher. I raised my eyebrows and tilted my head, my expression a mixture sympathetic and disappointed, before I looked away and she did the same. We sat in silence for a little bit, both of us nervously fidgeting and chewing at the insides of our cheeks.

"I think you should have a really hard think about it before you make your decision," I finally said after a while. I didn't even know the guy and I already hated him. He sounded like a pretentious douche bag who cared more about himself and his image than he did Olivia. For God's sake, the man wasn't even spending Christmas with her. Instead he had abandoned her in a hotel room, not taking into account how that would make her feel; how alone she'd be; how she would be getting home. He sounded like a complete jackass, but I was honestly thankful he had left for New York, because he sounded like a shitty person anyway who would probably just ruin her time in Baltimore. If Derek were here, Olivia sure as hell wouldn't be sat beside me on my couch right now and so, for that, I was thankful.

"Because, honestly," I began, "from what I know of Derek so far, he sounds like a terrible person," I frowned, a stern look on my face, maybe even borderline angry. I watched as Olivia continued to look down into her lap, she nodded slowly; taking in what I'd said before gulping hard. Allowing my tone to soften I continued, "and you deserve the world," I practically whispered to her.

She tilted her head to look at me with a sad smile, "I'm not so sure," she breathed and my chest ached. I pulled her into me impulsively and miraculously she allowed me to, resting her head on my chest as I fell backwards to lie down across the whole of the couch, her tucked beneath my arm, a lot of her weight on me. I kissed the top of her head, not sure if that was pushing it too far but she just snuggled further into me, suddenly seeming very tired. I wasn't sure if she was crying or not, and I knew better than to ask her and so I just held her until I knew she wasn't crying because instead she was sleeping. Her pretty, blonde head lifting a little with every breath I exhaled, whilst her own chest rose and fell with every deep, sleepy breath she took.

I watched her for a good hour or so before finally drifting off myself. I wanted to badly to stay awake and just take in every moment I could, knowing it would be over before I knew it, but finally sleep consumed me and my eyelids lacked the strength to fight it off any longer. I was dreaming; something about Jack stealing our pizza and drunk Rian performing karaoke, and for the first time ever, my weird dreams were far less interesting than what was happening in real life.

Notes