P.S. (Please Stay)

Four

Harry and Olivia's hands remained joined as he led her past the snow piles and up Canal Street. The snow was deep along the sidewalks, and Olivia had to take long strides to ensure she stepped into Harry's prints. She could have done it without holding his hand. The only problem, she liked holding his hand.

"You doing all right back there?" Harry asked, his words difficult to hear over the sound of the wind. He turned around and laughed when he saw Olivia's face. She had her chin tucked against her chest and the biggest scowl he'd ever seen across her face. She looked grumpy, cold and adorable. All Harry wanted to do was wrap her in his arms, warm her up and kiss her frosty face.

Olivia's brow furrowed deeper. "I hate this," she pouted. Her face was freezing, her legs like ice cubes, she was angry at herself for allowing Harry to hold her hand, and even more angry that she was enjoying it. She huffed out a loud sigh as she almost lost her footing. "Can't you walk smaller?" she grumbled to Harry.

Harry laughed. Her attitude reminded him of their past. She had always been on the sassy side, but he found it endearing, not rude. "Like this?" he wondered, slowing his pace before he shuffled his feet through the snow. "Maybe wait here, and I'll shuffle all the way home... then you'll have a fancy Yellow Brick Road kind of path," he teased, nudging Olivia's arm.

Olivia looked up at Harry. She'd forgotten how he loved to tease her bad moods. He was smirking at her; unfazed by her attitude. "Okay," Olivia agreed, stopping short. She was still scowling, but a tiny grin was forming on her lips.

Harry shook his head at Olivia. "Come on, you brat," he told her, squeezing her hand. "We're almost there," he promised her. He was also freezing, and wanted to warm up, but he didn't want the hand-holding to end. He wished they had to walk to New Jersey.

Olivia huffed out another sigh but began walking. Standing in the middle of the snowy sidewalk wouldn't get them to Harry's place any sooner — though, she'd have to stop holding his hand once she had no purpose in doing so any more, and she didn't want to stop.

A few minutes later, Harry pointed down the street with his free hand. "That's my building," he told Olivia. He snickered at her, squeezing her hand again. "See, you made it!" he teased, her rosy cheeks killing him. His heart ached for her.

"Barely," Olivia answered, but she matched Harry's smile. "Guess you never saw me in the winter," she commented. "I'm a fucking whiny baby when I'm cold."

"Could have fooled me," Harry kidded. It was true, but odd, that they hadn't experienced one another for more than a few summer months. They had celebrated no birthdays or holidays together, they hadn't reached a milestone month or an anniversary together, and yet, it felt as though he'd spent countless lifetimes with Olivia. He wondered if, after just a few months together years ago, his feelings were normal.

"We'll get you warmed up in no time," Harry promised Olivia as they climbed the stairs to the lobby door. His face flushed as he listened to his words. "I mean... I just mean because I have heat, yeah? Not..." He blew out a sigh. "You know what I mean."

Olivia let out a soft laugh. "I do," she assured him. She appreciated that he was respecting her relationship — despite the hand-holding, though it was for safety — and not planning on seducing her the moment they were alone. However, a small part of her wished he was.

The doorman opened the door and Harry and Olivia stepped inside, their hands remaining joined. Olivia wasn't surprised, but she realised she would have to be the one to let go. With a quiet sigh, she dropped her hand from Harry's and stuck her hands in her coat pockets, avoiding his eyes. She hoped he didn't assume she was leading him on by allowing him to hold her hand. Then she laughed to herself. This was Harry. He would never think a thing like that.