19th August

I paced the apartment, sat in front of the fireplace, moved, sat at the table, got into bed, drank a glass of water, threw some cushions at the walls, smashed something and repaired it, but nothing seemed to cure the racing thoughts going on in my mind. I found myself staring out of the window, watching as the rain hammered against the glass. I always loved the sound of rain. I opened the window and the tiny pelts of water soaked my hands and arm as I reached out, as though to grab some of the natural energy.

Invisible, I stuck my head out the window and saw that there was a ladder that extended up to the top of the building. Filled with curiosity, I took out my wand and used the impervious charm on myself, so that my skin and clothes simply repelled the rainwater. I took off the magenta robes and left them lying on the floor in a heap and invisibly climbed out of the window onto the ladder. It was a long way to fall, I only dared looking down when I reached the roof. I saw a gathering of people, no doubt wanting to find me with two of Hogwarts most accessible ex-students. And it's not like my relationship with George was kept on the down low.

They couldn't see me anyway, so I guess that didn't matter. I found myself sitting on the rooftop, enjoying not being soaked and taking in the views of surrounding London. The concept of a rain cloud is so beautiful, they contain all this water for so long, until they burst and share their contents with everyone. Whilst here in the UK, we see plenty of rain, I know that in some countries they're very glad to get a drop of rain. For without rain nothing can grow, and without growth and development, the world is dry and hungry. So today I am grateful for the rain, that we live in a place that is so plentiful.

I don't know how long I was sitting there, enjoying the peace that is the sound of rainfall. But I saw a red head climbing up the ladder, him spotting me and breathing a sigh of relief, "You're going to catch your death out here!"

I smirked, "No I'm not, you are." I held my hand out, palm up to the sky and watched the water repel my skin.

"You're so smart." He cottoned onto why I wasn't soaked through to the skin, "Are you not cold?"

I shook my head, "So I left you with enough clues to find me?"

"Can we go inside?" he asked, standing up, reaching out to take my hand and pull me to my feet. He climbed down the ladder first and swung his legs into the window with relative ease. And him being a man, didn't think that a girl would be capable of climbing down a ladder and in through an open window. I'm pretty sure he enjoyed having his hands on my arse, so I let him. He grabbed a towel for his hair and dried himself off before returning to me, "I need to be honest with you."

I nodded, "Go on."

"I thought for a minute that you – em – that you jumped out the window."

"Oh."

"I'm seriously glad you didn't, but I'm not going to lie, that's the first thing that came to mind."

I stared at him, not quite being able to believe the words he uttered.

"Say something."

"I – I would never." I felt myself shiver, "I –"

George had that expression where he regretted what he said, "I mean, Katy… It's been one thing after another, and -"

"I would talk to you. I'd tell you if I was feeling that way. Gosh, I tell you just about everything else." I willed myself to remain calm, to maintain my steady composure, "Yes, I've been through a hell of a lot these last few weeks, but I've had you to see me through. I might be a little wild sometimes and do things that are unexpected, but George, I would never do that to you." And then I smirked to myself, "Sure you know my speciality is sticking around a little longer, just to spite people."

"But you can understand why I thought?"

I nodded, "Yeah, but I promise, a newspaper headline and a bunch of lies aren't going to tip me over the edge. Sometimes I just need to be on my own."

"Come here…" George held his arms open and I sat on his knee as he held me tight, "You really are the strongest person I know." He let of a deep, shaky breath. I glanced at him, his skin pale and his eyes fixed on something in the distance, so I kissed his cheek gently and his attention returned back to me, "Sorry, I just feel so affected by this." He paused, "It's not fair on you, because people are going to think all sorts of things and you're not like them, not at all."

"Well, at least they know I'll fight them. I've killed Muggles, so I'll make light work of them."

George tried to hide a smirk, "You."

"Me?" I pointed at myself.

"I've got to do something." He indicated for me to get off his lap, "I'll probably be an hour or so… You'll be alright?"

I smiled, "Course I will."

In the time that George was away, I read the litteras occultas Dumbledore handed me the night before. There was a lot of discussion on how unfair the article was on me and asking me to respond as to how I was feeling. I told them that my face has been plastered over newspapers before and that I was doing alright. I had Tonks and McGonagall inviting themselves around, but I told them to leave it for another day.

When George returned, he had a huge, goofy smile on his face. He was holding something behind his back and he pranced towards me excitedly, "Close your eyes." He said as he approached me, "Hold out your hands," he whispered into my ear, "I wanted to do something nice for you…" he placed something into my hands, "Surprise! We're going to France!"

"Seriously?" I beamed, "Just you and me?"

"Just you and me, Katy."

I let out an inaudible scream, wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. George lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, "Ohmygoodness! George! This is – wowzah!" I squeaked, "When do we go?"

"Tomorrow, as soon as we've packed."

20th August

George walked into our bedroom and smirked, "Glad to see the red dress is packed."

"Well, you did promise me an occasion on which to wear it." I bit my lower lip, thinking of the possibilities. He was just back from the Burrow, having collected the holiday essentials and an earful of warnings from his mother, the same as what we had heard the night before when we informed her of our plans to travel. She wasn't entirely convinced that I was alright and insisted that I saw Maura before going. So I did, this morning.

Last night, Molly also performed an anti-tracking charm on me because of the serious number of nasty owls I had received. That way, any owls would arrive at the Burrow instead of following me to the South of France. I didn't give them permission to read the letters, rather keep them safe on my return so I may digest the hate, and become informed on the general consensus for my popularity and wellbeing on return to Hogwarts. But I wasn't going to think about that now. Right now I was focusing on George and me.

"All packed?"

My stomach leaped in excitement, "Yeah!" We stepped out into Diagon Alley and I took George's arm and we arrived in beautiful, sunny St Tropez.

"Can we run away together? Just you and me?" I stood out on the balcony looking out over the stunning town and beheld the spectacular scenery, "We could live here, and wake up to this, every morning!" I breathed in the smells of the sea, of the local food market and the one of coffee brewing in the café opposite the hotel, "This place, it's just breathtakingly beautiful."

We had just arrived and I immediately got changed into an off-the-shoulder flowery summer dress and sandals and were taking advantage of the complementary drinks in the fridge. I've never been in a foreign country before, and I was simply taken by our surroundings.

"Katy?"

I turned around to look at him and he pointed the camera at me and clicked as I give him the biggest of smiles.

"Pose for me."

I lowered my sunglasses and winked at him before turning my back, swishing my summer dress in the process to appreciate the views. George then joined me, putting his arm around me, then I heard the click of the camera shutter, "I hope you're not going to waste your time on this holiday taking pictures of me."

"Just making memories." He kissed my forehead, "I've got to have proof for our kids that we were young and innocent." The two of us giggled at the mention of the word innocent, "That, and I need some pictures to look at when you leave me in September."

"Let's make us some memories, then?" I took him by the hand, grabbing our sunhats, we went exploring the beautiful Saint Tropez.

Walking along St Tropez Harbour was George's idea. He was acting a little his father, showing off his excitement and curiosity for the Yachts and dazzling waters. Every so often he stopped to photograph the scenery, and I became very adept in posing on cue – a hand poised on a streetlight, gazing into the distance and there was the odd candid snap, too.

"I'd love to own one of these someday." George reached out and touched the bow of the yacht in front of him which was immaculately kept.

"You'd have to learn how to sail first."

He shrugged his shoulders, "Surely there's a spell for that?"

I rolled my eyes and smiled at him. We were both so relaxed and free, nobody knew us and George made me feel comfortable enough to be myself. Perhaps that's why I enjoyed being here so much with all that is going on back home. He took me by the hand and we walked on, taking a seat and watching the graceful movements of Yachts in the distance.

"Fancy a coffee?" I asked him, hinting at the quaint little café behind us.

"Coffee? In this heat?" he questioned incredulously.

"You can get an ice-cream?" I smirked.

He poked me gently, "I suppose you'll be wanting cake, too?"

"Thought you'd never ask." And when he gave me 'the look' I often give him, I said, "Come on, French Patisserie!"

"If I knew what that meant…"

I sighed, "Seriously?" I brought him over to the shop front and pointed to the displays, "Macaroons, éclairs, choux buns, Frangipane…?"

"I didn't realise you were as much of a foodie until today."

I frowned, "I wonder if you know me at all…" we stepped inside the shop and joined the queue, "You know, George, these hips don't lie." He placed his hands on my hips from behind as I ordered both of us un café crème, crêpes with strawberries and cream for George and I tried the crème brûlée. Whilst I knew what the desserts were, I had never tried them. I had been brought up with recipe books and cooking shows, my mother thought they would bore me to tears, so subjected me to it. Turns out I learnt a thing or two.

"How are your pancakes?" I asked him.

George smiled, sending a forkful in my direction, "Don't deny, you want to try some."

He fed them to me, "So you do know me after all." I fed him some of mine. The juxtaposing heat of the crisp sugar and the cool custard confused him for a second and he stated that he liked it. That led him to steal and finish the rest of my dessert for me. I happily ate the strawberries off his plate as I watched, recovering from the shock horror of dessert stealing and falling helplessly into dream land, staring at him, feeling nothing but love.

That evening, the two of us decided to dress up for dinner, because when you're on holiday, you take every excuse to dress to the nines. I dared to be bold and put on the form-fitting black dress that Tonks insisted I bought. I softened the look with nude smoky eyes, nude clutch and nude heels. I refused to go all Black like my mother. When I left the bathroom in the hotel room, hair done, makeup on, dress sitting perfectly, George couldn't keep his eyes off me.

"You look incredible." He said.

"You don't scrub up too badly yourself." I commented, looking down at his shirt and chino shorts.

We didn't know where we were going for dinner, but decided to walk in the other direction when leaving the hotel. This was slightly more difficult with a small-ish heel on cobbled roads, but the look wouldn't have been right without the shoes.

The two of us found ourselves exploring the streets, taking pictures of the architecture and getting the odd picture together on our quest to find somewhere to eat. I found us a rooftop restaurant and bar that served classic French cuisine with a view. Perfect.

The entire menu was in French, naturally, which confused George to the point that his eyes widened massively as he sat opposite, "Honey?" he questioned.

"Baby?" I replied sarcastically, because whenever he calls me pet names, that is how I respond.

"Translate?"

"Poisson is fish." I said in a very over-confident way, like the word poisson was terribly difficult to translate.

He snorted, "You don't have a clue, do you?"

I placed my hand on my chest, widening my eyes in fake disgust, "Em – I'll have you know, that I know a lot of the words on this menu, just not all of them. But I will work it out."

So, from what I could translate, George decided on the fillet of beef (beouf) and I tried the lamb dish (agneau). What ended up in front of us was divine. Thank goodness the portions were small because it allowed us to try more; the amount of butter in those potatoes and sugar in our desserts was totally worth all of the calories. However, being in such a tight-fitting dress meant I now needed to go burn it off.

"Can we go next door?" I asked after paying, "I hear music and I think we should get our groove on." I winked at him, "May I have this dance?" I held my hand out to him and he took it.

"I thought you were never going to ask."

21st August

After dancing the night away, the two of us woke up in a tangle of arms and legs. The previous night was a blur of loud music and laughing at ourselves. I basically got my weird on. I had well and truly let my hair down as we busted some of our classic 'Katy and Georgie' moves on the dancefloor. And that reminded me of the real me, carefree, vivacious and full of life.

After a hearty breakfast, we asked for recommendations from one of the hotel employees on how to best spend our day, from a local's perspective. So we set off for the local market that was on this morning, selling everything from food to clothing and gifts to bring home, if we were interested. I gave George a single look which told him we had to go. A quick tug on his hand and I had him out the door faster than he could argue.

I got a little bit excitable as we approached; I had always remembered Granny visiting St George's Market in Belfast and loving it, but it wasn't a place I was permitted to go to by Helen and Richard. This market had everything including local cuisine; pain, croissants, saucisson sec, les fruits et legumes. The two of us soaked up the atmosphere as we passed through the food section and came across all the clothing. It was here that I got Hermione a scarf for her birthday and a specially designed hairbrush for curly hair. A little further on I came across a small ceramic plaque that says 'La famille avant tout', which translates as family comes first. I think Molly will really appreciate it.

I dragged George around the crafts, clothing, fabrics, and leather goods stalls. It's not that he wasn't interested, it was more for the fact that he wasn't used to this style of shopping. I tried on a massive floppy hat and a really gaudy pair of sunglasses, and encouraged him to do the same, which loosened him up a little. I was on the hunt for something for the boys, "You really don't need to spend all your money on my family!" George's eyes widened as he realised just where these little gifts were going. I had found a navy patterned handbag for Ginny, a bracelet for Tonks and another for Fleur, so as not to leave her out.

"They're not exactly going to break the bank!" I shrugged my shoulders, "They're little tokens of ongoing appreciation."

George knew he had to submit to me and my ways, because we found a straw sun hat for Freddie that we simply couldn't set down. Naturally, George got himself a matching one. It did look rather handsome on him and I had to stop myself from biting my lower lip when I looked at him.

"What?" he said as he caught me staring.

I tried to hide a laugh and gave him a wide grin, "Come on, let's get out of here."

"What has you smiling like that?"

"You do." I looked up at him, unable to resist standing on my tiptoes to kiss him, holding my sunhat to prevent it falling from my head. Then we walked hand in hand, leaving the market and wandered down a side street just off the main road. The art and architecture in this town are of outstanding beauty and simply walking down the streets were a real testament to this.

We walked past more café's, the aroma of coffee made me feel so relaxed as we saw clothing shops and tourist traps. A beautiful water fountain in the middle of the pedestrian zone saw the perfect opportunity for a few photographs. A couple from Australia said if we took a photo or two for them, that they would return the favour, so George and I got a few nice pictures together.

As we tried to choose which street to venture down, my body came to a halt as I stared at the sparkling display of a higher-end jewellery shop, "Wowzah." I said to myself, looking at the different cuts of diamond rings and necklaces, earrings and bracelets.

"Want to go in?" George asked, placing a hand on my waist.

I glanced up at him, eyes wide in wonder, "We can't afford anything in there!"

"Sure we can." He held the door open for me, "I don't own my own business to not be paid well."

I stepped into the air-conditioned store and didn't know where to start, but found a display of necklaces, and George busied himself elsewhere, most likely to look at the men's collection. I cast my eyes over the beautiful pieces; a necklace with a simple diamond caught my eye, but the chain looked so delicate for a very inelegant girl like me. I then cast my eyes upon a bracelet that had a silver heart, the chain was made of a pink cord-like material.

On the next display, a sales assistant insisted that I tried on the newest stock – the black choker perfectly complementing my emerald green jumpsuit. She then plied me with an array of bracelets up my arm, most of them cord-style and black. I looked at myself in the mirror; I was wearing Slytherin colours, black accessories, my hair was curly and my choice of black eyeliner made me look exceeding like my mother. It was as though the sales assistant was reading my mind as she placed a very feminine nothing-like-my-mother's-style ring on my finger. It was a round ring with a series of tiny little pressed flowers encased within it.

"Do you like eet?" the girl asked me.

"It's pretty." I said with a nod, and took it off, handing it back along with the rest of the jewellery and found myself looking at the more delicate pieces. She had spent so much time with me, I thought she ought to better spend her time with someone else.

"Do you want to try somezing else?" the customer assistant was persistent.

"Katy?" I heard George call me from the next display.

I turned my head to the side, "Yeah?"

He did the same movement, "Ready to go?" gosh he was adorable.

I made my escape from the persistent assistant and met George at the door before walking into the sweltering sun outside, "Let's go do something you want to do…" I said as we walked towards the main path.

He stopped a few steps ahead and smiled at me.

"What?" I felt awkward, "Have I something in my teeth or…?"

He laughed, taking a step closer to me, placing both hands on my hips, drawing me in closer and kissing me gently, "This is what I want to do." he placed a rogue curl out of the way, "I want you."

I swallowed hard and stared back into his wide eyes, "I'm so lucky to have you."

When we finally snapped back into reality again, we trekked all the way to visit the Château Volterra and learned of its romantic history. The story was told by our tour guide that a lovesick man built the château for a local Fisherman's daughter, the backdrop was the surrounding vineyards and winery which allowed George to sample the local red, white and rosé. I enjoyed walking through the perfectly pruned gardens, looking back up to the castle or towards the sea, which wafted a salty breeze towards us.

The heat of the sun above us was staggeringly hot and the ice cream shop we spied on our journey was laying heavily on our minds. We spotted an Olive tree which gave us both a fragrant and shaded area to sit down and eat our chocolate chip ice-creams together.

"Look at the colour of you!" George compared the tan of our arms, "You look at the sun and tan!"

"I think it's because you're ginger and I'm not."

George pulled his why did you call me 'ginger' face, "It's not like the rest of your family are particularly tanned."

"Did you not know?" I said sarcastically, "Being pale is a sign of wealth? They stay indoors all day like bloody Vampires, planning ahead for the next devastating excursion. That, and they get sent to Azkaban for misconduct. Plenty of good old Vitamin D there, too."

George snorted, "I was thinking of buying a bottle of their red…"

"Go on ahead!" I encouraged before joking, "At least you know that's one thing I won't drink on you." We stood to continue our exploring, tagging along with the next tour going into the winery.

Following that, we joined a British couple who were heading to the museum 'Musee de l'Annonciade'. George was totally more interested in this than I thought he would be, so I went along with it. We became art critics in the space of a couple of hours, talking with the British couple Lynette and Bill about abstract expressionism, impressionism to pointillism which I'm still not entirely sure what they mean. From time to time we were prompted by our new friends to express what the painting made us feel. When they weren't listening, I whispered what story I thought was behind the art, commenting on the lopsided and mismatched breasts and disproportionate male genitalia, wondering what was so interesting about the jugs on the table or why the child's face looked slightly demented. George admired my creativity, but he was marginally more suited to the art world than me, engaging in conversation, asking questions, learning about muggle art. It was a good afternoon, banter included.

We decided to go back to the hotel to rest and shower before heading to dinner. I bought us a sneaky pack of Lays crisps and a can of fizzy drink each, with three hours until our dinner reservations, it was required. After demolishing the bag of crisps, George and I conked out. A mixture of the heat and the intensity of the day's activities left us asleep within minutes. It was when I woke up next to George sleeping soundly that I made a very important decision. Tonight, I will wear the red dress.

So, an hour later, I was sitting in the hotel provided bathrobe, my curls precisely managed following the painstaking process my hair requires to sit perfectly and the flawless application of my face, natural looking with bold red lips included. I even took the time to paint my nails, a French manicure, just to stay in touch with my surroundings. I hadn't been so dolled up since the Yule Ball.

Time was pressing on, and no matter how much of a sleeping beauty he is, and how much he deserves the sleep after all the hard work he does, I had to wake him. So I climbed onto the bed beside him and gently placed a kiss on his lips. As he puckered up in his sleep, I kissed him again and I heard him moan a little.

"George?" I said in a very gentle, sing-song voice.

"Am I dreaming?" he muttered.

I kissed him again, "Open your eyes and tell me."

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, "Hello beautiful." He smiled when his eyes focused on mine.

"You happen to be Sleeping Beauty today." I tapped his nose.

"Kiss me again."

I didn't need asking twice. But after a minute or two, I really had to stop him, "Georgie…"

"I have to go get ready, don't I?"

I nodded, "Plenty of kisses on offer later on. Promise."

"Lucky me!" he smirked, closing the bathroom door.

I could tell he was moving at lightning speed, I cheekily opened the ensuite door and told him that I wanted him smelling like roses. He then proceeded to pull me into the bathroom and threaten to many awful things, like putting me in the shower and ruining my hair and makeup. I let out a high pitched overdramatic scream and escaped to the bedroom to put on my dress.

"What do you want -" George stopped mid-sentence as he stepped out of the ensuite in his boxer shorts, "Woah." He grinned, "Well, I am one lucky guy."

"I'm wearing the red dress."

"You're wearing the red dress." He repeated, a little breathless, "You – you look – beautiful."

I smiled at the floor like a little girl who has been told by her crush that he likes her. That was when George approached me and lifted my chin, and we gazed lovingly into each other's eyes. He zipped the dress up and looked at his packed clothes, "Now I don't know what to wear…"

"Way ahead of you." I nodded my head to the bed where I had laid out his outfit for the evening.

The two of us managed to leave the hotel in good time, hand in hand, enjoying the cooler evening air. We walked through the area where the market had been hours before then onto the main street towards the pier. As we reached the pier, we walked along the promenade where the scent of sea salt and seaweed filled the air. George slowed down and my arm tugged his gently.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah!" he nodded, "I just wanted to talk to you about something…"

I felt my eyebrows furrow as I nodded, "What is it?"

"Isn't it just so beautiful here?"

I smirked, "Yes, and it's all the better having you as part of my scenery."

He pouted and turned me to face him head on, "I'm supposed to say that!"

I shrugged, wondering where this conversation was going. He seemed to be in deep thought as he stood, searching my eyes, rubbing my arms with his hands, "Well, being here with you has reminded me about how much I want to be with you and how amazing it would be for us to get married someday. But the idea of proposing now was something I considered, but it just seemed a little early. I know this is what I want, but I imagined myself a little older and wiser when proposing to you."

"Yeah?" I turned my head to the side, my heart beating a little faster than it had been.

"But today, when we were in that jewellery store I came across the ring section and I saw this…" he took out a black velvety box out of his pocket. At that moment I held my breath as I glanced from the box to his eyes, he continued, "It really got me thinking about the promises we've made to each other. And I read something last week, it said 'together forever, never apart, maybe in distance but never in heart'." He rhymed off, "So I bought this ring, not as your official engagement ring or anything, but as a promise ring, to remind you that it's always darkest before the dawn, and if you just look up, we're both under the same starry sky."

He took my hand and lead me over to a bench where we sat down, "That bloody princess ring has been doing my head in for months." he chuckled bringing the box closer to me, he opened it, but I was too busy staring into his eyes to pay attention to it, "Katy, I give you this ring as a promise, that I will always love you, treasure you and respect you for the absolute Queen you are. I will always be your greatest advocate, provide the shoulder to cry on and the ever-listening ear. I will forever be your biggest fan and I hope and pray that you will be by my side 'til the day I die."

I blinked back tears as I saw him staring back at me, eyes filled with hope. I didn't think I could love someone as much I love him. I didn't think anyone would love me, like that.

"Well?" his touch on my hand brought me back to earth again, "Are you going to put the ring on or what?"

My eyes fell upon the beautiful light blue chalcedony ring with a sterling silver band, "Of course I am, you numpty!" I took the princess ring off my left ring finger and swopped it over to the right to make room for George to slip the beautiful rock onto my finger, "Nice choice."

"It's a classic mix of modern and vintage, which I have noticed you like."

"I love it, George!" I smiled broadly, "I love you." I stood from the bench and wrapped my arms tight around him and planted a kiss on his lips, like he had never experienced before.

"You'll happen to find, that I love you more."

"Let's agree to disagree, eh?" I smirked, taking his hand and pulling him up from the bench, "Come on, I'm hungry!"

At dinner I couldn't help but stare at the new ring on my finger. For such a small piece of jewellery, it certainly had a big impact on my life with George. There was definitely a point when I was convinced he was about to get down on one knee and propose 'officially' as he has referred to it. I would have said 'yes' there and then, and if I'm honest, I don't need a fancy, expensive ring to signify that I want to spend the rest of my life with this man. I do see where he is coming from though, we are about to spend the majority of the next two years apart as I finish education, and it's his promise that he'll be waiting for me back in London.

And that meant more than words can describe to me.

"You've gone very quiet." He said as we were waiting on our main courses.

"Sorry," I smiled up at him.

"Is buying you a ring all I need to do to get a bit of peace and quiet?" he joked.

I gave him a sarcastic har har har before saying, "I can talk all day and all night if you like? But right now, I am delighted to be in your presence and am content sitting in a comfortable silence."

He rolled his eyes, "Oh so eloquent." He smirked, "Like butter wouldn't melt. No wonder you get away with so much."

"The term happens to be getting away with murder." I made serious eye contact, "And thus far, I've not been caught."

He laughed much louder than he should have as our plates were placed in front of us, "And what is the death toll thus far?" He accentuated the word 'thus' in a very British accent, mocking me and my little Northern Irish-isms that come out from time to time.

"Oh darling, if I told you, I'd have to kill you." I winked as seductively as I could muster.

"Oh but baby, you can do what you want to me." he held hands up in the air.

My stomach was home to a flutter of butterflies as the two of us flirted shamelessly. As I ate my Blanquette du Veau and he, his Cassoulet the conversation became focused on the future without being overly serious or grim. He asked if I had any preference to where we lived and what sort of house I wanted and at what age marriage was on the cards. We both knew the immediate future did not look as bright and shiny as we had hoped. We ignored the letters, the lies we had to spin and the idea that my parents could ruin everything in a flick of a wand. Instead, we focused on the here and now.

"Can I interest you in our dessert menu, Monsieur? Madam?"

"Non, merci." I said politely, "L'addition, s'il vous plait?"

"Oui madam." The server nodded and was on his merry way.

George grinned, "You're so sexy when you speak French."

"I really wish I had an awesome French comeback for that," I used my hands to express the language I was lacking, "but I don't." I scrunched up my face accordingly, "Shame."

The server returned with our bill and the two of us split the cost, at my insistence, "Shall we get out of here?" George said eagerly.

I shrugged my shoulders, "Let's go let our hair down."

We followed the sound of the music and found ourselves in a beach club. I couldn't resist the pull music had on me, the way my body relaxed and George reacted perfectly to my every move.

The music was upbeat, and I must admit I did show off a little. I was singing along to the songs I knew and at one point, with a few other girls, got up on the tables and showed the men who the fairer sex is. For the first time I felt sexy, I felt the music (Prince's song, Kiss) and danced accordingly with a little wiggle here and there. At the end of the song, George carried me in his arms as though marking his territory, placing me back on my feet again, though I felt like I was on cloud nine.

We communicated through touch and glances. As the music slowed, what we experienced was nothing like the mucking around of the Yule Ball, or even the previous night. These songs allowed me to rest my head on his chest as we swayed, doing the odd twirl then pressing my body up close to his again. The sunset behind us was stunningly beautiful, and a single look shared between two told us it was time to go back to the hotel.

Closing the door to our room, I turned the lock until I heard the click. The two of us stood there, gazing at each other, daring to make the first move. I knew it had to be me, he had been waiting for me to be ready for so long. So I kissed him. I placed my hands in his hair and took control, his hands drifting down my back, lower, lower... I gave him a teasing bite and he pressed me up against the wall, our bodies grinding together, slowly and perfectly in sync.

"Erm… George -" I whispered into his ear as he kissed down my neck, "Can you stop for a second?"

His eyes met mine, "I'm sorry, I -"

"Can you undo my button?" I tilted my head to the side, turning around, pointing to the button that led to a zip, which resulted in the dress being cast away to the floor, unnoticed. I took a few slow steps backwards, away from the door, towards the bed.

I was very conscious of his eyes exploring my body, my lacy red underwear, my cleavage, my lips, my eyes. A few steps towards me, our lips crashed together again, harder and with a hint of hunger. George fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, I unbuttoned his trousers and undid his zip.

"You're sure you want to do this?" our lips were almost touching; I could feel the warmth of his breath on mine as I rested my fingers where his neck reaches his shoulders…

"I'm sure."

Those two words seemed to settle it for him, as his lips met mine once more, slowly, affectionately as he threw his clothing to the floor. As we caught a second's breath I took a peak at his naked body before he leant me back onto the bed. A swift graduation of intensity saw our kisses deepen, my hands exploring his body, his fingers fumbling on my bra. Then I, too, had nothing on.

His insistent mouth parted my lips, his hands fondling my breasts, sending wild tremors through my body, evoking sensations I had never experienced before. I longed for his body to press against mine, to feel him. Breathing deeply, we couldn't help but smile before we experienced the abundance of things worth knowing before the night would end.

All other sounds of the world went silent, tonight, it was just George and me.

22nd August

"Good morning beautiful." George stroked my hair gently as I woke, my head still resting on his chest, my legs intertwined with his, just as they had been only hours before.

I lifted my head and grinned from ear to ear, "Well good morning, handsome."

"Last night was incredible."

"Best night of my life." I let out a loving sigh.

George tapped my nose gently, "Best night of your life so far."

"This was your plan, wasn't it?" the two of us lay opposite, admiring each other's forms in the daylight that was streaming in the window behind me, "Take me to a beautiful place with breath-taking views and have your wicked way with me?"

"You don't regret it, do you?"

"Not for a second, not for a single second." I caressed his cheek with my fingers, the gentle coarseness of his stubble, the soft hairs on the back of his head. There was no part of either of our bodies that we hadn't touched, explored, enjoyed, there was no shame, no embarrassment, but sheer contentment. Goodness did he make me feel alive.

I leaned forwards and kissed him gently, "No matter how much I'd love to stay tucked away in here with you all day, I'm pretty sure we need to check out of this room in just over an hour." I kissed him again, "Besides, today we're going to hit la Plage de Pampelonne."

"That's twice in two days I've seen you in your underwear." George's eyes were on me as I undressed on the beach to sunbathe.

"This, happens to be a bikini," I directed his attention to the royal blue material, "Besides, you've seen me in a lot less than underwear these last two days." I handed him the suntan lotion, "Can you do my back?"

"Gladly!" and he did so with much enthusiasm, tickling me and making a mess, causing a bit of a stir. Thankfully, when it came to me returning the favour, I was quicker and thorough, therefore quite ordinary, providing nothing of interest to gawp at.

I must admit, I did fall asleep for an hour or so, lying on my stomach on a towel on the warm white sand, listening to the sound of the waves. I didn't get much sleep the night before, not that I'm complaining. But George always has finds a way to keep our relationship both loving whilst treating me like his best mate. I let out a scream as he set an ice-cold cup of fanta orange on my back. I was about to throw the contents at him, but the drink was so welcome.

"You're very boring at the beach." He remarked, gulping down his own drink, moving from foot to foot.

"Go play." I lifted my hand and batted him away like a fly.

He pouted like a child, "Come play with me. It'll be fun."

"Oh, go on then…" I shook my head, stood and the two of us ran straight to the clear blue waters of the refreshing sea. We didn't go too deep, nor did I put my head underwater, too many bad memories, anyway, my hair would never forgive me. We paddled and splashed, and when he kissed me, I wrapped my legs around his middle as we made out in the Mediterranean Sea.

We built sandcastles with our hands, and George tried to bury me, though he managed to give me exceptionally round-shaped boobs and fins, untied my hair and let the curls move with the gentle sea breeze, taking photographs and laughing, claiming that I was the most beautiful mermaid. He had me tortured for attention, but in a good way. I ran into the sea to wash the excess sand off my body and out from my bikini bottoms before I laid down to dry off in the sun.

"Katy?" George reached for my hand, "We should think of getting back now, remember I promised mum we'd have dinner with everyone?"

I let out a groan, "I thought we agreed? We live here now!" I sat up and leaned over towards him, taking hold of his chin and kissing him gently.

"You know what…?" his voice was soft and full of mystery, "I have an idea – one I know you'll love the sound of." He stood up and started getting dressed, so I followed his lead.

"Are you gonna tell me this wonderful idea?"

He smirked, "Well, it involves you and me spending some quality alone time together."

I raised my eyebrows, "On one condition."

"Go on…"

I whispered something into his ear that made his jaw drop and eyes widen before settling on a facial expression mixed between impressed and exhilarated. He never expected something so dirty to escape my lips. But my goodness, did he exceed my expectations.