Elodie Hart;
"Tasting her is like heaven. But Harlow isn't heaven. Nor is she hell; Harlow is the f*cking devil herself, with her sharp intimidation and her cruel way of things, but she tastes nothing like it. She tastes of sweetness and determinati...
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Waking up on the morning of Harlow and I's France trip had me absolutely ecstatic. The week leading up to it went slower than I could have imagined, but it was finally here, and I couldn't be more ready.
I set my alarm super early to ensure I had enough time to prepare. Overprepare, as Harlow kept saying this past week after I wouldn't stop asking her about the trip, but I don't think there's such a word. Ever since I got home from my shopping trip with the girls, where Harlow asked me about the trip, I started packing my suitcase. I finished packing it yesterday after I got ready for bed and knew I wouldn't need to use anything I had packed the next morning. When I woke up this morning though, I did triple-check my suitcase and my other bag, just to make sure I wasn't missing anything.
I sit on my bed, suitcase beside me on the floor and my bag propped beside me on my bed. I gaze over the two bags and furrow my eyebrows. Did I pack too much? An entire suitcase and a separate bag for a three-day trip?
I shake my head; underpacking is a thing, but overpacking - absolutely not. Who knows, maybe I'll need everything in these bags?
Okay, realistically, I probably won't, but I have to keep in mind that I have no idea what we'll be doing when we're in Paris. Harlow didn't tell me what to bring, and she would not tell me what kind of outfits I had to pack, so I was completely in the dark. I need to be prepared for anything. The girls did help me out with choosing outfits, which was a great help during the week when all I could think of was how perfect I needed this trip to be.
I have fancy dinner outfits, cold evening outfits, museum trip outfits (as Elena called them), and so many more categories, they all barely fit in my suitcase.
Not knowing what the weekend had in store for me was killing me, yet it was also so exciting at the same time. I love surprises, and this is a perfect one. But god, Harlow has refused to budge all week. Whenever I mentioned the trip, she'd do all sorts to change the subject, which quite a few times meant us ending up on any flat surface around us until I forgot everything on my mind but her.
The only thing she told me was the time I should be ready for this Friday morning. She said the flight was early, because we should make the most time of the weekend starting Friday, and so we were set to leave the mansion at 10 AM. She told me to be ready for 9:45 AM and that she'd be waiting in front of the mansion for me. She said she had some last-minute things to sort out, but I wasn't sure if it was for the trip or not. Either way, I'd be spending the entire weekend with her, and her only, so I couldn't complain at all.
I pick up my phone from beside my bed and check the time. 9:44 AM. I've been ready for the last half an hour since I got up way earlier than I should have, but better early than sorry. Plus, it gave me time to check everything I possibly could so I couldn't stress out about anything while we were away.
I'm about to press on my messages app on my phone when there's a knock on the door. For a second, I thought it was Harlow, but it wasn't her usual knock. I stand up from my bed and walk towards the door, unlocking it quickly and opening it up. Directly outside it stands one of Harlow's guards. He's at least 6"3, tall and defined, I can tell through his grey suit.
