Chapter Text
Chapter 14: Midnight Kisses & Goodbyes
The rooftop party was a whirlwind of glitter, champagne, and laughter. Olivia’s friends had gone all out—fairy lights strung across the deck, a makeshift dance floor, and a photo booth that Conan had already claimed as his personal stage. The skyline of Los Angeles sparkled in the distance, but Olivia only had eyes for Louis, who was standing by the snack table, looking unfairly handsome in a navy sweater that made his eyes pop.
“You’re staring,” Madison teased, nudging Olivia with her elbow.
“I’m not staring,” Olivia lied, her cheeks flushing as Louis caught her eye and grinned.
“You’re *so* staring,” Tate chimed in, smirking. “And he’s staring back. It’s disgusting.”
Louis wandered over, his hand immediately finding Olivia’s waist. “What’s disgusting?”
“You two,” Conan said, popping a mini quiche into his mouth. “You’re like… attached at the hip. It’s nauseating.”
Louis just shrugged, pulling Olivia closer. “What can I say? She’s my favorite person.”
The rooftop bar was alive with music and laughter, the LA skyline sparkling behind them. Olivia wasn’t paying attention to any of it. She was tucked into Louis’s side on one of the lounge couches, her legs draped over his as he traced slow circles on her thigh with his fingers.
“Do you two even function without touching?” Conan teased, raising an eyebrow as he sipped his drink.
“Nope,” Louis said immediately, without even looking up. He just nuzzled his nose into Olivia’s temple, pressing a lazy kiss there.
“You guys are so gross,” Madison added, shaking her head.
“You’re just mad no one’s in love with you like this,” Olivia shot back, grinning as she tilted her head to look up at Louis.
His eyes softened. He leaned in, brushing his nose against hers. “No one loves anyone like I love you.”
Her breath caught. It wasn’t just words—he meant it, completely. She felt it in the way he touched her, the way he looked at her like she was the center of his world.
Her chest squeezed. “I’m going to marry you if you keep this shit up.”
Louis went completely still.
She saw it in real-time—the way his pupils blew wide, the way his lips parted slightly, the way his grip on her leg tightened just for a second before he relaxed.
“Yeah?” he murmured, low and teasing, but also not teasing at all.
She swallowed. “Yeah.”
His smile turned slow and devastating, and then he was kissing her, soft at first, then deeper.
The countdown started.
“Ten! Nine! Eight!”
Louis pulled her in tighter, his hand sliding up her back.
“Seven! Six! Five!”
Olivia felt it coming—the New Year, the goodbye tomorrow, the ache already building in her chest.
“Four! Three! Two!”
“I love you,” Louis whispered against her lips.
“One!”
“And I love you,” she whispered back.
Fireworks burst in the distance, but Olivia didn’t hear them. All she felt was Louis—his mouth warm, his hands sure, his love steady as ever.
When they finally pulled apart, Louis pressed his forehead to hers. “Happy New Year, baby.”
“Happy New Year, Lou.”
Get a room!” Conan shouted, earning a chorus of laughter from their friends.
Louis pulled back just enough to glare at him. “Mind your business, mate.”
“You’re in *America* now,” Olivia teased, poking Louis’ chest. “We don’t ‘mind our business’ here.”
Louis laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so American.”
“And you’re so British,” she shot back, grinning. “Now kiss me again before I die.”
He obliged, dipping her dramatically as their friends erupted into cheers.
They swayed together, ignoring their friends’ jokes about being disgustingly in love, ignoring everything but each other.
2 a.m found them sitting on the edge of the rooftop, their legs dangling over the side as the city hummed below. Olivia’s head rested on Louis’ shoulder, his jacket draped over her to ward off the chill.
“I don’t want you to leave tomorrow,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
His arm tightened around her. “I don’t want to go.”
“You’re coming back in February, though,” she said, trying to sound hopeful.
“Six weeks,” he said, his voice heavy. “That’s forever.”
“It’s not forever,” she said, lifting her head to look at him. “And you’re coming to my Palm Springs gig. You’ll get to see me in my element.”
He grinned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I can’t wait to see you bossing everyone around. It’s hot when you’re in charge.”
She laughed, swatting his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it,” he said, leaning in to kiss her.
“I do,” she admitted, her voice soft. “I love you.”
His smile faltered, his eyes searching hers. “I love you too. So much it hurts.”
“If you keep saying stuff like that,” she repeated, her voice trembling, “I’m going to marry you.”
He laughed, his forehead resting against hers. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Both,” she said, kissing him again.
---
By 4am they were back at her apartment, tangled in her bedsheets, the room lit only by the glow of the streetlights outside. Louis’ lips trailed down her neck, his hands memorizing every curve of her body as if he could take the memory with him.
“I’m going to miss you,” he whispered, his voice raw.
“I’m going to miss you more,” she said, her fingers gripping his shoulders like she could keep him there forever.
“Impossible,” he said, kissing her again.
Louis hands already pushing beneath Olivia’s jacket, desperate to feel her, to memorize every inch of her body.
“Three hours,” she breathed against his lips, her voice already cracking.
“Don’t,” he pleaded softly, shaking his head. “Don’t say it.”
But it was there, hanging heavy between them—the unbearable weight of time apart. And just like that, the air turned frantic. Their mouths crashed together again, a feverish tangle of tongues and gasped breaths. Louis lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her toward the bedroom.
Clothes were lost in a blur, neither of them moving fast enough. Louis’s hands mapped every curve of her body, as if afraid he’d forget the feel of her. Olivia dragged her nails down his back, whispering, “I just need you.”
“You have me,” he rasped, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, down her collarbone.
He worshiped her, drawing out every sound, every shiver. And when she pulled him over her, guiding him in, their movements were slow at first—deliberate, reverent. She held his face in her hands, memorizing every flicker of emotion in his eyes.
Then something cracked open between them, and the slow gave way to desperate. They chased each other’s pleasure recklessly, gasping, clinging, lips never straying far.
Louis pressed his forehead to hers, his breath shaky. “I love you,” he murmured between kisses. “God, Livvy, I love you.”
Tears welled in her eyes, slipping down her temples as she arched beneath him. “I love you too,” she choked out, voice wrecked.
They fell apart together, bodies trembling, hearts breaking and healing all at once. And even after, when they were tangled in each other, their skin damp and cooling, neither of them could stop touching.
Louis brushed away her tears with his thumbs. “You’re killing me,” he whispered, his voice thick.
She let out a weak laugh, kissing his palm. “You’re killing me more.”
They held each other in silence, breath syncing, fingers tracing absent patterns as they fell asleep wrapped together.
---
At 7am The taxi idled outside, its headlights cutting through the early morning fog. Louis stood on the doorstep, his bag slung over his shoulder, his eyes red-rimmed.
The taxi idled outside, its headlights cutting through the early morning fog. Louis stood on the doorstep, his bag slung over his shoulder, his eyes red-rimmed.
“This isn’t goodbye,” he said, his voice steady despite the ache in his chest.
“It’s not,” she agreed, her hands clutching the front of his shirt.
He kissed her one last time, slow and desperate, like he could pour everything he felt into that single moment.
And then he was gone.
Olivia stood on the door, watching as the taxi pulled away, its taillights fading into the fog. The cold seeped into her bones, but she couldn’t bring herself to move.
Tears streamed down her face as she replayed the last few months in her mind—how he’d walked into her life like a storm, upending everything she thought she knew about love. How he’d made her laugh until her sides hurt, held her when she cried, and looked at her like she was the only person in the room.
How had he changed her life so much in just two months?
She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, her breath hitching as she whispered to the empty street, “Come back to me.”
And as the first rays of sunlight broke through the fog, she smiled through her tears.
Because this wasn’t the end.
It was just the beginning.
And in six weeks, he’d be back—kissing her under the desert stars, holding her hand at her gig, and being her beautiful kind boyfriend.
Until then, she’d hold onto the memory of his arms around her, his voice in her ear, and the promise of forever in his eyes.