Twenty two

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Isobel P.O.V.

I finally finished with my slideshow of Olphie. I played the little movie, watching over it a final time. As the images appeared and blurred together, following their journey from kids to where they are now, I got a tad emotional, especially because of the song choices. Deciding that pictures speak a 1000 words, I'd also like to make a small slideshow to accompany my maid of honour toast too- if it suited. I brought up a blank word page document to get the speech started. I definitely didn't want it to go for too long... something sweet and to the point, with a little bit of humor maybe.

A knock on the door broke me out of my brainstorm of ideas for the speech. I slid off my bed as I went to answer it.

Of course.

"Whitley," I said with an air of caution, holding onto the side of the door. He's sort of like this tick on my side I can't get rid of.

"Hey, do you think you could help me with something?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You can find viagra at the chemist." I smiled smugly.

"Trust me. I don't need help with that," he narrowed his eyes at me.

I snorted in amusement. "You can also find rash cream whilst you're down there."

"Isobel."

I laughed. "Okay, what is it?"

"My speech. You're a writer so I thought I could run stuff by you."

I was surprised. He really wanted to put effort into it. "Okay, well I'm going to work on mine too, so I guess we can check to see we don't overlap."

"Great! Meet me in my room?" He grinned.

"How about downstairs?" I suggested. I totally can't be alone with him.

"No way! I don't want them to sneak a peek at what we're doing." He recoiled aghast.

"Okay fine. I'll be there in a sec." I sighed. Bad idea. But of course, I'm doing it anyway. I grabbed my laptop, a notebook and pen to jog down ideas quickly when they popped up.

I opened the door into his room and stepped inside. He sat leaning against the headboard of the bed with his laptop open and his legs stretched out. I stood there awkwardly as my eyes flitted over the few pieces of furniture. Should I sit on the floor?

"Bel. Just sit on the bed. You've already slept in it," he eyed me amusedly.

Yep... I remember.

I settled myself carefully on the edge, as furthest as I could get from him before flipping open my laptop. "So... I think I'm going to have a little anecdote in mine."

"Like a story?"

I nodded. "Yeah, just a short cute one to lead into what I want to say next, I think."

"Cool. That's a good idea, I think I might do that too..." He paused to think about it before typing down something.

"So have you got anything so far?" I wondered.

"Yeah, I guess I'll just talk about how good of a person Oliver is and crack a couple of jokes."

"Okay well, write something then show me." I said, typing away on my own screen. I need to make mine cute, sweet, heartfelt and funny. Bring the audience on a roller coaster of emotions, but make it meaningful for the two special people the speech is for.

He shut the laptop and pushed it aside, lacing his hands together and rested it on his lap comfortably. His gaze fell on me and left it there, watching my every move.

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