eighteen.

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"I'm not sure I understand." he says to me softly.

"What's there not to understand Harry?" I laugh as I turn my head to face him as we lay on the grass in front of the olive tree.

"I thought you don't believe in love." he looks at me now too.

"I don't. But that doesn't mean it's not real." my eyes flick down to his lips then back up to his emerald green eyes before moving my head to face the stars again.

"So what are you saying?" he says and I can tell he's still watching me.

I look back at him now, a smirk on my face. "Je pense que je t'aime."

Harry laughs quietly. "I'm going to need a translation chérie cerise."

"That's the only thing you know how to say in French, isn't it?" I smile widely at him.

He matches my smile as he says, "I know a few things but that's the most important. So important that I don't think I'd ever forget what it means. Now tell me, my cherry darling, translate."

I roll my eyes with the huge smile still plastered on my face. "I think I lo-."

Immediately I jump out of my sleep.

It was a fucking dream.

I groan and fall back against the bed, pulling the covers up to hide my whole face. I've never had a dream like that before. I mean obviously I've dreamt about him.. but this dream seemed way too real.

Pulling the covers away from my face, I roll over on my side to grab my phone. I check the time to see that it's half an hour before I actually need to be awake. Great.

   Today, Emma wants to take me out somewhere in London to go shopping. I told her yes but she has to come to my job interview.

   There's this salon called Hershesons. I've read about them in the British Vogue a lot and they're styles are some of the best I've ever seen, it'd be a dream to work there as my first job.

   Although I'm way younger than anyone who works there, the owner of the salon agreed to let me come in and see what I can offer. I was through the moon when I found out about this interview but I haven't told anyone except Emma because I don't want to get my hopes up.

I pull the covers back over my head to shield my eyes from the light. I lay here for a couple minutes before groaning loudly.

This isn't working.

Pushing the covers off my body completely, I get up and go straight to the bathroom to wash my face. I look in the mirror at my reflection only to see myself staring back at me. My eyes look dead, like I haven't slept in a while, when in reality I've actually been sleeping a lot more the past few days.

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