TO BE FAIR THOUGH

For a delightful yet frustratingly brief moment you had allowed yourself to forget just who you were travelling with. And like a bucket of ice-cold water being dumped over you, your fantasy came crashing down.

You had heard them before you’d seen them. “Oi! Hey! Over here! Heeeyyy!” 

Two pints your arse. 

You turned towards the sound and found Chris and Hill waving from a pub in the terminal, their table already littered with empty glasses. They weren't even through security yet.

“Hello you two, where’s the others?” You asked, dropping your bags beside the table.

“Some are inside, some we’re waiting on,” Chris replied, already gesturing over his shoulder for another pint.

“Your best mate is here already.” Hill snickered, raising his eyebrows for emphasis. 

Wonderful. 

“Oh yeah?” Your eyes narrowed.

“Ah yeah. Coffee? Security?... One of the two. We weren’t listening but he sounded pretty serious,” Chris offered, shrugging. 

“Ah. Surprising.” 

“And that means…?” Hill asks, dragging out the last syllable. 

“Arthur would treat airport travel like a military operation.”

“Well, someone has to.” A familiar voice replied from behind you. 

You closed your eyes, your head dropping forward.

There has to be hundreds of thousands of people in this airport and of course Arthur Frederick appears at the worst time. 

“Good morning, princess.”

It was a nickname you were never able to get ahead of, you weren’t even sure when it had started but since the first time you’d complained about it - it had stuck. You turned in your seat, grimacing as your eyes reached his. Stood behind you with a coffee in one hand and a backpack slung over his shoulder, Arthur smiled with his head cocked to the side.

“Artie.” You returned the greeting.

“Oh wow, you’re still sticking with that?”

“You’re still annoying me?” You retorted, voice low and mocking. 

“Depends.” He tutted. “Is it working?”

“Clearly.”

Despite it being February, he was wearing a navy hoodie, black shorts and trainers. You stared pointedly at his exposed legs.

“Are you aware of where we're going?”

Arthur glanced down at himself.

“France.”

“Yeah, Artie. The Alps. The cold part?”

“Well yeah, obviously.”

“Did you even pack trousers?”

He looked offended.

“Of course I packed trousers.”

“Mhmm.”

“I've been skiing before, princess.”

“Given your attire, that wasn't immediately obvious.”

Chris looked between you two and sighed dramatically. “Right. Excellent. They've started already.”

“We haven't started anything,” Arthur responded, rounding the table to sit beside Chris.

“I just got here, like thirty seconds ago,” you added.

“Thirty-one,” Hill corrected, nudging you with his elbow. 

“Time flies.”

Chris pushed a half full pint glass towards you. “Hey, how about we all loosen up? C’mon… Drink?”

“Chris.”

“Holiday pint?” He pushed, the words coming out in a melody. 

“It is six in the morning.” 

“Exactly,” Chris said, a dimpled smile following.

Arthur took a sip of coffee and tipped his cup towards Chris as if in silent agreement.

“See? Someone gets it.”

“Don't encourage him,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s a coffee, and you don't get to tell me what to do, princess.”

“Yep, there he is,” you said, caving and pulling Chris’ pint to you, taking a sip.

“Who? Me?” 

“Yep. The man physically incapable of taking instructions.”

“Or criticism," Hill added

Arthur raised his hand and smacked Hill in the back of the head before turning to you with his eyebrows lifted.

“That is a strong accusation.”

“Is it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Arthur, any of us would trust Chris first.”

“Right.”

“Over trusting you.”

“Hardly comparable.”

Before you could respond, another voice cut across the terminal.

“Oi, guys!”

You all turned.

Josh jogged towards, behind him two suitcases rolled wildly and Sabina beamed, hands full of their remaining bags. 

“And they arrive!” Hill shouts, clapping loudly.  

“Whoooop!” Josh shouts in acknowledgement. Disapproving grunts and whispers from other patrons follow soon after.  

“Mate,” Chris called, lifting his hands to gesture around him. “We're at a pub.”

“I can see that.”

“Pint?” The melody in his voice returned. 

“It is six in the morning.”

Chris laughed, pointing towards you. “Wow! That's what she said.”

“Yeah because we’re the ones who aren’t insane.” Sabina exasperated, leaning over to squeeze your shoulder in greeting.

“Uh uh! Majority rules,” Hill decided. Sliding the glass toward where Josh stood.

“That's not how majorities work,” Arthur said.

“Look at that,” you muttered. “He's already correcting people.” 

Arthur grinned.

After several more minutes of Chris attempting to convince Josh that airport pints were a cultural experience rather than a poor life choice, you finally made your way towards security. Predictably, Olivia, Isaac and George were already waiting on the other side. Isaac and George huddled over a phone. 

Liv spotted you first. You dropped your carry-on beside her and immediately pointed behind you.

"How dare you leave me stranded with them."

She glanced over your shoulder and visibly winced. Chris was arguing with airport security, Hill filming it on his phone and cackling loudly, Josh and Sabina were working on repacking their carry-on contents while Arthur stood nearby looking thoroughly entertained.

"To be fair," Liv said, pulling you into a hug, "I didn't leave you with them."

"You absolutely did." You huffed into her hair. 

"You arrived after us. Later than we agreed on, by the way." She pulled back, her hands placed on your shoulders and an eyebrow raised as if telling you off.

"Technicalities." You waved a dismissive hand before turning to Isaac and George, pulling them both into quick hugs, George immediately holding out a takeaway cup. You took it gratefully, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

"Your marshmallow's already in there," he said.

"You're a lifesaver."

"I know." He grinned.

You took a sip and groaned. While airports seldom provide the best quality, you have to admit that there may not be many better things in life than a large hot chocolate full of cinnamon. 

"Feeling dramatic this morning, are we?" George said, tilting his head mockingly. Letting you tip forward your head resting on his chest as he pet you like a mother would a petulant child. 

Arthur again appeared behind you, shoving you lightly so he could pull George into a half hug half handshake.

“Ever the drama queen,” he chuckled, greeting the others before correcting himself with a scoff. “Drama princess - I mean.”

George’ gaze flicked between you both before rolling his eyes and heading towards Chris and Hill, who had somehow escalated their situation with airport security. "Not ‘gna deal with you when I have to deal with them… Wish me luck," He muttered.

"You'll need it," Isaac called after him.

Thankfully, George was able to intervene before Chris could turn whatever he was attempting into an international incident. By the time you reached your gate, Liv and Sabina both looked as though they were reconsidering every life choice that had led them to this moment. Isaac wasn't far behind.

"Why do we do this every year, you’d think we’d learn from experience," you sulked, gesturing to the rowdy boys, before dropping into one of the empty seats beside your gate.

"I think it’s why this is yearly," Olivia replied. "It takes us a year to forget about the chaos and start to reminisce."

"That's worse."

"It is."

Boarding was called twenty minutes later and as expected, the seating arrangement immediately became an issue - despite all being firmly in adulthood, nobody was happy with their airline assigned seats. 

Thankfully, Liv had anticipated this. Her priorities were simple: One: Chris and Hill could not sit together. Two: Sabina, Liv and you got aisle seats for accessibility to eachother and moral support. Three: Josh was to be supervised at all times. The rest was apparently negotiable.

Eventually, after enough complaining to qualify as a formal group activity, everyone settled. Hill claimed his window seat in the row ahead, Isaac took his seat between Hill and Liv (who was wearing the expression of someone mentally drafting an apology to the other passengers), across the aisle, George dropped heavily into the middle seat beside you as Arthur walked up and stopped next to your row, staring at the window seat Liv had assigned him.

George looked at Arthur. Then to the seat next to him. Then at you. Then back at Arthur. "Nope, absolutely not. I am not sitting between you two"

You shrugged. Arthur beamed. George pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He hadn't even fastened his seatbelt and already looked drained, you almost started to feel bad for him..

"You're both adults, just behave" he cautioned, his cadence tense and borderline scolding.

Neither of you responded. George watched as Arthur filed in, taking his seat and smiling brightly.

"I can behave, I don’t think Artie can though." You said gesturing absentmindedly.

“I’m sure rabid stray dogs can behave better than you can.”

“You smell like a stray dog.” 

“Wow, real mature, princess.”

“I am not dealing with this the entire flight, just be quiet.” George snapped, looking between Arthur and you, frustration palpable on his face. Holding in a laugh, you sat back into your seat.

Around you, passengers continued filtering onto the aircraft. Overhead lockers slammed shut. Flight attendants moved through the cabin helping people with bags. Somewhere near the back a baby began crying. Chris was still talking loudly, of course. Across the aisle, Olivia had already settled into her seat with a book. Isaac sat beside her scrolling through his phone. A few rows back, Josh was attempting to explain something with increasingly dramatic hand gestures while Sabina watched him with amusement shining in her eyes. 

Taking it in, you found yourself smiling. Arthur noticed immediately. Of course he did. 

"What?" He said leaning over George to look at you. Eyebrows furrowed, you looked at him. 

"What." 

"You smiled."

"What?" You repeated.

"You did."

"And?"

"You looked happy. It’s weird. Stop." 

You faced him, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. He watched you over the rim of his takeaway coffee, smiling smugly with an eyebrow raised. 

Beside you, George groaned.

"What?" Arthur asked him, nudging his shoulder against George’s. 

“Wha-a-at?” You mocked him. Arthur faced you again, sticking out his tongue as if a child. George looked between the two of you. Then towards the ceiling. Then back again.

"We haven't even left the ground."

That got a genuine laugh out of you both, Arthur shaking his head and sitting back into his seat while you bumped George with your elbow.

The plane levelled out somewhere above Europe and within half an hour, the energy that had carried everyone through the airport had disappeared entirely.

Across the aisle, Hill was turned around, face pressed between his seat and Isaac’s, whispering loudly to Chris sat behind him as they watched something on a phone screen neither of them should have been able to see from that angle. Sabina had given up trying to intervene, instead opting to watch and listen intently to the boys, Josh snoring lightly tucked into her. 

George had fallen asleep beside you or at least was pretending to have, headphones tucked under the hoodie he had pulled over his head, eyes shut tight. Though you suspected it was self-preservation. You swapped between flipping through the channels and screens available on the small tv in front of you and scrolling aimlessly on your phone. A woman across the aisle from you was watching a documentary about volcanoes on her ipad, which had proved to be much more interesting. 

A packet of crisps appeared in your peripheral vision. You ignored it. The packet shook. Slowly, you turned your head, taking out an earphone. Arthur shook the packet again.

"No."

"You didn't bring any food and you’ve been staring at the menu for twenty minutes."

"I wasn’t hungry and I was just looking."

"You were judging. With your judgemental eyes"

"What? No I wasn’t, I was looking. There's a difference."

"Yeah, not with you."

You rolled your eyes and returned your attention to the screen. The crisps remained, the packet shook again.

"Artie. Bugger off." You huffed, facing him completely now.

He smiled brightly, his eyes squinting and nose scrunching. Before shaking the packing once more, adding in a sing-song tune, "they're salt and vinegar." 

"I can see that." 

"They're your favourite."

You hated that he knew that, almost as much as you hated that he was right - punctuated almost comedically by your stomach growling. Without looking at him, you took the packet. Arthur looked unbearably pleased with himself. George opened one eye. 

"Are you really feeding each other?"

You chuckled, showing off the crisps in your palm. "Apparently." 

"Hmm." He murmured, a smile evident in his voice. 

"Go back to sleep." Arthur chided. 

You settled back into your seat, stealing another handful from the packet before balancing it on Arthur's tray table and returning your attention to the screen in front of you.

The rest of the flight passed much the same, Chris and Hill remaining incapable of sitting normally, Josh getting progressively louder every time he woke up from whatever five-minute power nap he'd accidentally fallen into, Liv managed to get over halfway through her book and Isaac had slept through enough turbulence to convince you he could probably sleep through an earthquake, possibly even the plane crashing. 

A little over an hour later, your descent was announced and almost immediately, the cabin seemed to come back to life. Headphones disappeared, window blinds slid open and sleepy passengers began stretching into the aisles as though waking from hibernation. The holiday feeling settled over the aircraft all at once, spreading through the cabin as people sat forward in anticipation of arriving.

The mountains appeared beneath the aircraft before you'd even broken through the clouds. White peaks stretched endlessly across the horizon, sharp against a sky so blue it hardly looked real. You found yourself leaning towards the window, completely unable to look away. Every year you forgot just how spectacular they were and every year the first glimpse stole your breath all over again. The Alps looked less like a real place and more like something edited, impossibly perfect beneath the afternoon sun. Beside you, Arthur shifted slightly to get a better view, and for once neither felt the need to fill the silence between you. As the aircraft banked gently, small resort towns appeared amongst the valleys below, their rooftops dusted with snow and scattered between winding roads. A smile tugged at your mouth before you could stop it.

"Doing it again, princess."

You didn't need to look at him. "Doing what?"

"Smiling to yourself like a weirdo."

"For god's sake Artie, shut up."

"Where’s the fun in that?"

George groaned from beneath his hoodie as though physically pained by your existence. A few minutes later the wheels hit the runway with a jolt that rattled through the cabin. Chris immediately cheered, startling several nearby passengers and setting off the crying baby towards the back of the plane. 

And just like that, almost a year later and all those months of planning, group chats and increasingly questionable decisions, you were finally in France again, though if you thought airport security had been chaotic, baggage claim somehow managed to be worse.

For reasons you still don't fully understand, collecting luggage always seemed to erase whatever common sense most people possessed. Within minutes of reaching the carousel, Josh had confidently picked up the wrong suitcase twice, only realising his mistake when Sabina pointed out that neither belonged to him or her or anyone else in the group. Hill, meanwhile, had somehow become involved in a discussion with a complete stranger about whether their luggage looked similar enough to warrant simply swapping bags altogether - to which they had looked rightfully alarmed. George had disappeared entirely in pursuit of Chris, who had wandered off in search of snacks before a single suitcase had even appeared on the conveyor belt.

By the time you finally emerged into arrivals, dragging your luggage behind you like survivors of some minor disaster, you were beginning to understand why Liv permanently looked as though she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Right," Liv announced, glancing down at her phone before looking up at the group. "Coach is outside. Everyone, stay together."

Nobody listened. "Everyone, stay together," she repeated, louder this time.

Hill continued walking in the wrong direction. Josh stopped to look at something in a gift shop. Chris reappeared carrying enough food to sustain a small village. Olivia closed her eyes.

"Isaac."

Isaac immediately looked up from his phone and turned towards the group, a sharp command of “stay” rang through the air, Hill stopping in his stride and Josh dipping his head down returning to Sabina’s side. 

Without another word, Isaac and Liv began herding the group towards the exit with the efficiency of two people who had clearly been forced into this role many times before. Falling into step beside George, you adjusted your grip on your suitcase and carry-on, observing the chaos unfold ahead of you.

"There is no way most people travel with this much drama."

George laughed.

"Most people don't travel with Hill. Or Chris”

You looked towards Hill at the front with Isaac and Chris, their arms linked to keep them both in step as Liv led the group towards the exit. 

Yep, fair enough. 

The cold hit the moment the automatic doors slid open. Not London's version of cold, where the air felt damp and heavy and lingered in your clothes for hours afterwards. This was different. Cleaner. Sharper. The kind of cold that immediately filled your lungs and made you feel awake whether you wanted to be or not. Around you, everyone seemed to react at once. Josh zipped his jacket higher, Hill launched into an elaborate complaint about frostbite despite standing outside for less than thirty seconds, and Chris loudly declared that he would warm Hill all by himself (whatever it took).

Arthur, still inexplicably wearing shorts, appeared entirely unaffected. You stared, looking between his bare legs and smug face. He noticed immediately, smiling and sending you a wink. 

"Like what you see?"

Your eyebrows lifted. "Like what you feel?" You responded, emphasising by tugging your coat closed around you.

"Yep." He said, popping the last letter.

"And you brought trousers?" In lieu of a response, Arthur rolled his eyes so hard you thought he might injure himself. 

“And they’re here? With us in France?” You continued.

"I'm not having this conversation again."

"I’m honestly just asking."

"I love the concern but I can take care of myself."

"You wore shorts to the Alps."

Beside you George laughed, a sharp and loud sound that seemingly tore it way out of him, before sheepishly shrugging his shoulders when Arthur looked to him, betrayal evident on his face.

Chris and Hill claimed the back row before your driver had even opened the doors, immediately establishing themselves as a problem for everyone else on board. Josh joined them moments later, a decision Sabina appeared to regret almost instantly. Liv and Isaac settled together a few rows ahead while George disappeared towards the front, wisely distancing himself from the inevitable nonsense already brewing behind him.

That left you with a window seat and, for perhaps the first time all day, a moment of peace.

The scenery transformed gradually as you climbed higher into the mountains. Cities gave way to towns, towns became villages and eventually even those disappeared, replaced by winding roads cutting through snow-covered forests. The further you travelled, the more excited everyone seemed to become. Conversations grew louder. Music was blaring after an enthusiastic Hill convinced the driver to let him connect to aux. Plans for the week were thrown around enthusiastically between rows. The first drink. Ski slopes. Questionable bets. Party games. Even more questionable bets.

At some point you stopped listening altogether and rested your head on your arm pressed to the glass, content to watch the mountains roll past outside. The sun had begun its slow descent by the time the familiar cluster of cabins finally appeared. 

One moment there was nothing but snow-covered trees and winding roads; the next, wooden chalets emerged around a bend in the mountain, their windows glowing warmly against the fading afternoon light. 

The reaction inside the coach was immediate. Everyone stood up at once.

"Sit down!" Liv shouted from somewhere near the front. Nobody listened. "Guys!"

Some grumbles were distributed among the group but soon everyone was seated again.

Smiling despite yourself, you looked back out towards the wooden cabins and let out a breath you had held since you were here last year. Home for the next two weeks, and god it’s so good to be back.

The coach rolled to a stop and before the driver had even opened the luggage compartment, Chris was halfway down the aisle, Hill directly behind him, Josh trying to overtake both of them despite starting further back. Sabina watched the entire thing unfold with the expression of a woman considering whether abandoning them in France was a realistic option.

Stepping off the coach, you paused for a moment as fresh snow crunched beneath your shoes. The chalet stood directly ahead of you, warm light spilling from the windows and reflecting against the snow that surrounded it. For the briefest moment, the entire group seemed to stop and take it in.

Then Chris yelled something completely unintelligible and sprinted towards the front door. Moment ruined. Still, your smile remained as you grabbed your belongings, following the others inside. 

Suitcases were abandoned by the front door almost immediately as everyone scattered to explore. Chris and Hill disappeared upstairs within seconds of arriving, Josh headed straight for the windows in search of the hot tub and Arthur wandered towards the kitchen in search of a drink. For a few blissful minutes, everything felt easy.

You were handing your carry-on to George when you noticed Liv and Sabina standing at the dining table. A folder laid out on the counter from the chalets booking drawer, several sheets of paper spread neatly across the tabletop. Normally, that wouldn't have meant anything. If any one knew anything about Liv it was that she loved an itinerary. The woman could organise a military operation if given sufficient notice. 

No, that wasn’t worrying, what did catch your attention was the expression on her face.

Or more specifically, the complete lack of one. Beside her, Sabina was staring at the same paperwork with her lips pressed tightly together.

"How nice is this!" You called, meandering over to them both. Neither answered.

Liv looked down at one page, then another, then flipped both over. Her eyes moved back to the first. Slowly. Deliberately. As though she was hoping the information might change if she stared at it long enough. 

"Chris."

The word was calm. Far too calm. Across the room, Isaac immediately looked up.

"What?" He said, confusion evident in his face.

She didn't answer him.

Instead, she looked back down at the paperwork.

"Chris." She said louder. 

This time Sabina closed her eyes.

"Oh no. Oh shit."

Something about the way she said it sent a ripple of unease through the room. Conversations began dying off one by one. Josh drifted back from the windows. George set down his drink. Arthur emerged from the kitchen holding a six pack in one hand and an opened beer in the other, pausing when he realised everyone was now looking towards the dining table, tension palpable.

"What happened?" Isaac asked, already sounding tired. 

Liv finally looked up. “Chris!” A shout this time, the sound rippled through the room, it was as if the world fell silent too. 

“Uh, yeah?” His voice carried from his location somewhere upstairs. Tentative, slow steps back toward the room. 

"How many rooms did you book?"

There was no answer, only his footsteps increasing as he returned to where everyone stood, looking at him expectantly. 

"What do you mean?" you asked. 

Olivia held up a sheet of paper. Gesturing towards Chris and Hill.

"Those two booked the accommodation."

A collective groan moved through the room. That, unfortunately, explained everything. 

“Liv!” You groaned. “What did we learn last time? Why in the world would you trust them with this?”

Isaac stood up making his way over to the kitchen counter and Liv, “Hey, they said they knew a guy.”

"Wait, why does that matter?" Arthur asked.

For a brief moment, Olivia simply stared at him. Then she looked back at the paperwork and let out a long, slow breath. "There are four bedrooms."

The silence that followed was immediate. Nine people. Four bedrooms. Of course Chris struggled with those numbers. As though summoned by the accusation itself he rushed over to Liv and Sabina, taking the sheet as it was handed out to him. 

"What? No." Chris read it, then looked at the group and glanced back down at it again. His confidence disappeared so quickly it was almost impressive.

"Oh."

"Chris," Isaac said.

"To be fair…"

"No."

"I thought-"

"No."

"Chris."

Sabina's warning tone was enough to stop whatever defence he was preparing. The room erupted into noise almost immediately. Questions came from every direction at once. Hill looked seconds away from crying with laughter.

"Remind me again why we trusted him?" Arthur groaned.

"Because he said he knew a guy," Isaac replied miserably.

"Yep. Right. That’s worse."

"It is now."

While everyone else continued arguing, George quietly reached across the table and picked up the room allocation sheet. His eyes moved down the page once before he immediately pointed at the first room.

"Mine."

The room fell silent again.

George looked between Chris and Hill. 

"We're sharing."

Chris grinned.

"Really?"

"Yep. We're sharing."

You cut in. "You can't just decide that."

"I absolutely can."

Hill looked positively thrilled by the arrangement, already dropping onto the nearest sofa as though the decision had been made months ago rather than seconds earlier. Chris joined him, the pair high fiving. George ignored both of them entirely.

Setting the room allocation sheet back onto the table, he took a long sip of his drink and looked far too pleased with himself. Only then did you glance down at the paper properly. Josh and Sabina already had a room together, Olivia and Isaac obviously occupied another, and George had just successfully secured the third for himself, Chris and Hill. 

Your eyes moved slowly down the remaining names, a feeling of dread beginning to settle somewhere deep in your stomach long before your brain caught up with the maths. Sabina, Josh, Chris, Hill George, Isaac and Liv…Which left — your stomach dropped. 

Beside you, Arthur stepped closer to the table at exactly the same moment. For once, neither of you spoke. You simply stared at the remaining names printed beside the final bedroom allocation.

"No."

The word left your mouth instantly.

Arthur didn't even hesitate.

"No."

it was safe to say that alfie’s face dropped when arthur began calling you in the middle of the shoot.

“hello?”

“hi, reader!”

“hi, arthur!”

“oh she is so sweet isn’t she?” chip tutted and grinned.

“get off the phone with my mrs.” alfie pulled a face. “i’m not joking.”

“how are you?” arthur continued.

“i’m good thank you, how are you?”

“i’m doing well, yeah, um…” he rubbed his lower lip, “i just wanted to say that i think you’re a massive slag and you need to shut your legs.”

“oh my god.” harry coughed through laughter, covering his face with his hands.

“… what?”

“yeah, just thought i’d let you know whenever i see you on my phone i just … you really make me feel sick.”

“oh.”

“oi, take it back.” alfie stood up, “‘coz she’ll actually get upset. say sorry.”

to add salt to the wound, arthur shouted down the phone, “slag, slag, slag, slag, slag!”

“arthur!” arthur exclaimed, his eyes wide.

“is alfie there? what the fuck is going on?” you laughed nervously.

“should i tell alfie that you DM’d me asking for a shag?”

“i actually just didn’t though.” you muttered, “lol.”

“did she just audibly say ‘lol’?!” bach barked out laughter.

alfie pushed out of the stands, approaching arthur before delivering a hefty slap.

“jesus!” george cackled from his spot.

“… what the fuck is going on?” your voice came through the phone.

“oh my god, reader, alfie’s just slapped me.”

“good! you called me a slag!”

all the boys chuckled at your exclamation.

“okay, well, bye reader, love you.”

“mmm, yeah. bye.”

arthur turned to alfie, “will she actually be upset by that?”

BEING IN A couple since day one was … good. You think. You weren’t too sure how to feel about it. On one side it was consistently stable, on the other side, you were wondering whether you were too quick to settle down.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to explore connections with the other boys, because you had, it was just that none of them were particularly your cup of tea.

Alfie was lovely, he really was, you just wished sometimes that he’d try a little bit harder. You were starting to think that he was growing too comfortable in your couple and thought it was okay to start slacking.

It had only been a week and a half, so maybe you were just being a little dramatic, but it didn't change how you felt by any means.

The morning was chill. Nothing dramatic apart from a bowl of sliced fruits slid your way and refilling your water bottle numerous times whenever you asked him too.

When your phone chimed with a message, you shot up from your place on the day beds, reading the message over before gasping and squealing.

“Oh my God!”

“What?” Hannah asked, grabbing onto your wrist to pull your hand down and read the message.

“She got a message?” Morgan muttered from beside Alfie.

“‘Reader and Oscar, Marcus and Emma are waiting to take you on a date. Please go and get ready’!”

“No way!” Hannah screamed before beginning to jump up and down with you out of excitement.

“Shit.” Alfie muttered, rubbing his bottom lip.

“Why’s she so excited?” Morgan frowned, “Bit weird.”

“Nah, ‘s alright.”

All of the girls helped you get ready, Holly curling your hair while you did your makeup and Mehreen stood to the side, showing you your different outfit options.

You didn’t have long to pick, so you just threw on the most put-together-looking combination she threw your way and stumbled to put your wedged heels on as you went down the stairs.

“Ooo, look at you!” You awed at Oscar, who was wearing a white button-up top open with some black shorts. “Bye, Alfie!”

“No hug? The fuck, girl?” He scoffed playfully.

“Aw, come here.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his cheek.

“Don’t miss me too much.” He hummed, patting your ass lightly as you let go.

“Cocky, you.”

“Duh.”

Pulling away from him, you interlocked your arm with Oscar’s and made your way out of the villa and to the cars that would be taking you to your date area.

The boys and Alfie shared a bit of a knowing, worried look before the doors closed and they were blocked off from the outside world.

Marcus was a nice guy.

The date was a little across-the-table scene with a thin vase of flowers between you and a fruity mocktail to share.

You got to learn a bit about him, finding out that he was semi-pro footballer at 29 and had three siblings, consisting of two brothers and one sister. You made a comment about how big his family was, which then prompted him to respond with ‘Yeah, makes me want an even bigger one when I get the chance’.

The remark took you aback a little, not expecting him to be so forward about the possibility of creating a family on the first date.

He was different to Alfie — more bold, more straightforward — and you couldn’t decipher as to whether you liked it or not.

Marcus had good chat, you’d give him that. He didn’t talk about himself too much, and he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you as a person. Across the patio, you could see Oscar getting along with Emma pretty swimmingly as well.

By the time you made it back to the villa, the sun had set and everyone was in their ‘glam’ outfits. It was kind of perfect, to be honest, because your outfit fit the vibe and it saved you having to change again.

“We’re back!” You exclaimed, hand still locked in Marcus’.

“Yay!” Hannah cheered, waddling over to you the best she could in her maxi dress and heels, “Hi, my love!”

“Hi!” You grinned, hugging her tightly.

“Were they holding hands?” Archie grasped Alfie’s shoulder as they walked off.

“Fuck.” He replied in a mutter, “Am I fucked?”

“Nah, nah, nah. Just be cool.”

You greeted Alfie when he joined, but he didn’t seem too excited to see you again, which put you off a little. You were expecting a grand gesture of sorts, maybe a spinning hug or an offer to go and chat, but all you received was ‘Hi, y’alright? How was it?’.

The girls pulled you to the side, sitting around the mini fire pit so that Emma could introduce herself properly and then you could both debrief the details of your date.

They all seemed really stoked for you, sensing that this was a man who might be willing to put a bit more effort in than Alfie.

“Wait, how old is he?” Mehreen double-checked.

“29.”

“Girl!” She scoffed out laughter, “Age gap much?”

“I know, I know!” You pressed your hands to your cheeks, “But he’s so fit.”

“He is gorge.” Holly nodded in agreement, “More than Alfie?”

You sighed heavily, pursing your lips before speaking, “I don’t know— No, I do. Alfie is definitely more my type, but he’s just been lacking in the effort department, and that’s not something I appreciate. Like, if you want me, please let it be known to the world.” You dramatically threw your hands up to the sky.

“I remember you saying.” Lana noted, “He’s just too comfortable, babe. Hopefully this’ll give him a kick in the bollocks.”

“Yeah.”

On the other side of the villa, the boys were having a much similar conversation, except Alfie was keeping quiet, watching Marcus speak with ego.

“I think the date went really well. She’s a lovely girl, stunning, seemed to take my flirting well and all, so, yeah. Pretty chuffed.”

James glanced at Alfie momentarily before barking out in laughter, “Alfie’s fuming.”

“What?” Alfie blinked, “Nah, nah I’m not. It’s fine. I understand, she’s a proper looker. No hard feelings.”

“I’m gonna go and pull her now, actually.” Marcus said before departing from the boys and making his way over to you.

You beamed at the sight of him, meanwhile Alfie was muttering under his breath, “Y’just spent 3 hours with her, what else could you possibly have to say?”

“And you wanna say you’re not fuming?” Archie cackled, slapping his thigh.

“I’m not fuming, I’m just … Argh, lads, don’t.” Alfie’s fingers came up to dig into the corners of his eyes as he laughed through his ‘tantrum’.

“You’re jealous.” Christian shrugged.

“Yeah, but you’ve got every right to be. You’ve been coupled up since day one. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t arsed, to be honest mate.” Morgan gave his two pence.

“Look look look look look!” Archie gasped, and all the boys heads snapped in the direction he was looking at.

Marcus had his arm around your shoulders as he guided you toward the seating area under the terrace.

“Cheeky bastard!”

“You reckon he’s trying to get a rise out of you?” Morgan asked, looking at Alfie.

“I dunno … If he is, that’s just a bit pathetic. Like, you’re in here to find love and you’re dedicating all of your time to pissing off some random guy?”

“To be fair, on the date, he didn’t ask about you at all.” Oscar explained.

“Is that worse, though?” James but in, “Like, is that more inconsiderate?”

“You lot are scrambling with my head, man.” Alfie groaned, running a hand through his hair, “Bare stressing me out. Chill.”

“We’ve just got your back, mate.” Christian patted him on the shoulder.

Your chat with Marcus was going well.

He was sitting rather close to you, fingers skimming the edge of your thigh mindlessly. He asked how you felt about the date, and whether or not you were still willing to get to know him having now been put in an environment with both him and Alfie. You told him that you were, and Alfie being there didn’t change anything for you because you weren’t closed off by any means.

Speaking of, he seemed to be making his way over to you both pretty purposefully.

“You okay?” You hummed once he was close enough.

“Yeah, do you wanna go chat?” He nodded to the side.

“Yeah, ‘course.” You agreed, nudging Marcus’ hand off your thigh and making the move to stand up, until he stopped you.

“It’s okay, you two stay here, I’ll go get a drink.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Cheers, mate.” Alfie nodded, taking his place beside you and getting extremely comfortable.

He took your legs, slinging them over his lap and threw his arm over your shoulders, keeping you tucked nice and tight into his side. You loved it. This was the type of treatment and behaviour you wanted to receive from him, not passive touch and barely meaningful conversations.

Your fingers found the hand that was dangling beside your head, interlocking with his perfectly and letting your thumb stroke over his first finger.

“Y’alright, beautiful?” He started.

“Oh, so now I’m beautiful?”

He frowned, “You’re always beautiful.”

You hummed, acknowledging his words but not giving him half as much attention as you would’ve done had you been a bit more happier with his treatment towards you.

“What?” He nudged your knee with his lightly, “Talk to me.”

“Just …” You huffed, picking your head up and turning to look at him, “You haven’t even been giving me the time of day recently, and now that someone wants me, you’re like a territorial dog.”

“Am I? I don’t think I am.”

You raised your eyebrows, a light smile on your face, “Alfie.”

“What?”

“Don’t be stupid, ‘coz you’re not. You haven’t pulled me for a chat in days, and now Marcus takes me for a date and has a little cuddle with me, you’re all over me again.”

“Is that what the issue is? We don’t talk?”

“I just …” You rested your head back on his arm, “I’d appreciate a bit more effort.”

He hummed, bringing his other hand down to rest on your shin, rubbing up and down.

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” You clicked your tongue.

“I am.” He nodded, “Tomorrow, I will bring you breakfast and a coffee, oat milk not normal,”

You laughed at the detail.

“And then I will hog you the whole day. Anyone tries to pull you for a chat and I will fight them off. Sound good?”

“Mmm … I might get a bit annoyed with you after a while.” You joked, “Or maybe you’ll get annoyed with me.”

“Reader, I could never get annoyed with you.”

“How’d you know? You haven’t spent more than fifteen minutes with me alone in the past four days.”

“Oh, c’mon.” He groaned, rolling his eyes and resting his head to the side, leaning it on yours, “I’ll make it up to you.”

“What if Marcus wants to talk to me all day tomorrow?” You quipped.

“He can fuck right off.” Alfie murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple casually.

“Alfie.” You tutted, slapping his thigh.

“I’m serious. Gonna super glue our hands together tonight.”

“Oh, no, don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“‘Coz then I can’t use them.” You teased, smirking in a way that had his brain short circuiting and trying to come up with a response to your innuendo.

“What you gettin’ at, girl?” He grinned.

“No, nothing.” You shrugged, feigning innocence.

“You proper mess with my head, you know that?”

You turned your head, keeping eye contact with him as you beamed.

“Good or bad?”

“Oh, good. But, only ‘coz it’s you. Anyone else and it would be a nightmare.” He replied, blinking excessively in a way that told you he was nervous, but he didn’t want to seem like a pussy for refusing to maintain eye contact.

“I feel the same about this protectiveness.”

“Really? Is it doing it for you?”

“Mmm maybe a little bit.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, leaning in a little.

You nodded, poking your head forward the rest of the way until your lips were interlocked with his.

His arm tightened around your shoulders, keeping your head in place as one of yours came up to cup his cheek.

It was perfect, soft but passionate in all the right ways. It wasn’t all about the tongue, but he let it be known how much he wanted you through the glides of his against yours.

Hannah gasped, “They’re snogging.”

Mehreen nearly broke her neck with the speed in which she turned around to glance.

“Aw, yay.” Holly whispered, clapping quietly with small movements so it wouldn’t be audible.

When you pulled back, he came in for another, this time offering you light pecks rather than a full, tongue-in-mouth debacle.

“Happy now?” He chimed.

“No. You can rub my feet before bed.”

“Fuck sake.” He huffed, puffing his cheeks out and leaning his head on your chest.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around him properly and kissing the top of his head.

“God, you are so clingy when you wanna be, aren’t you?”

“Sorry, you just whinged at me for not being clingy enough!” He scoffed.

“I did not whinge!” You exclaimed through laughter.

“You fuckin’ did!”

“Oi!” You shoved him back.

“No, no, I’m playing,” He grinned, his hands finding your waist, “I kinda like when you put me in my place.”

“Okay, chill.” You snorted before reaching out and running your thumbs over his shockingly sharp canines, “Also, I like these.”

“Yeah? They’re sharp, ennit?”

“Mm, you’ve got proper fangs.”

“Good for biting.” His lips upturned, pressing his lips to yours again.

You grinned into it, happily clasping your hands at the back of his head and keeping him close.

The only thing that was able to pull you off of each other was the sound of production alerting you that it was time for bed.

Reluctantly, you dragged your lips off of his and sighed.

“C’mon, big boy.” You patted his pecs.

“Do I get a cuddle in bed?”

“No.”

“No?!”