We'll Always Have Paris - A Harry Styles Fanfiction

Gabrielle Moreau is a 19-year old French girl living in Paris, the “capital of love”. To most people she looks ordinary, but behind her high-built façade hides a girl that suffers. She tries to shut the inferior sides of her life out by doing the things she loves and letting her thoughts circle around something elsewhere—and she succeeds in focusing on the good things in life flawlessly.
When Gabrielle an early morning gets a call from One Direction’s manager, who offers her the opportunity of working with them on their summer tour in Paris, she immediately replies him with a yes. She doesn’t know it just yet, but within the next few months she will get to grow a close bond to each of the boys in the band—and particularly one of them. Before she knows it, Gabrielle has been thrown into something she this time won’t be able to pull herself out of … Will she finally start opening herself up to someone and let them in without any conditions? **Check out the trailer in the right sidebar**

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38. Extravagant

 

>>Gabrielle<<

 

I run the brush through my insanely messed up hair one last time before I at last stare resignedly into the mirror in front of me, giving up on the process of trying to make my hair look shiny and smooth again. No matter how many tries it takes it just won’t bend to my commandings. But it doesn’t matter anyway; the guy on the other side of the bathroom’s door loves me. I, Gabrielle, the girl who is supposed to be anything but good with boys. And still, it surprises me how much my feelings towards Harry has grown stronger within the past few weeks. It is as if somebody pushed me off a cliff, sending me into a lethal fall, but somewhere halfway a superhero came along and caught me. For once, I know the smile on my lips is real.

My hand grasps the door handle and it creaks open. Leaning against the doorframe, I watch the boy crumbled up in the reddish sheets of my bed as his chest slowly arises and falls in calm inhalings. The quilt wrapped loosely around his toned body makes your eye catch sight of the butterfly tattoo on his chest easily, as so for the twin birds just below his strikingly collarbones. Looking at him, I still don’t see the toughness behind them. A mixture of damp rain-drops and sweat are making his chestnut curls stick to his forehead, whilst they are ruffled up and almost covering the green in his eyes, that in this very moment locks with mine. The hint of an amazed smile shows on his face.

“That tee suits you so much better than me,” he points out.

I glance down the shirt I’d thrown on just before I went to the bathroom. The edge of it is only just passing my lower thigh and the cut V-neck is making my rather small chest seem less obvious. In true honesty, it’s barely covering my naked skin, but it’s hiding enough beneath the soft material.

“Oh, really?” I sit down on the bed, facing him. “I think it’s a few sizes too big.”

“Nah,” Harry admits whilst sneaking an arm around my waist and pulling me down beside him. “I like it on you.”

I hesitate. “Why am I thinking that you’d rather see it off me?”

“Because I am—” The perplexed look on my face makes him change his mind. “I mean, I just did half an hour ago, I guess I can wait a little...”

I roll my eyes. The pervert in him will never fade away, but somehow I kind of like the cheeky edge in his behavior; it spices things up even though I might not want to admit it.

Flat against his heated skin, my head rests in the crook of his neck. The feeling of his arms wrapped around my body in an affectionate embrace is dominant, and for a moment I can feel myself slipping out of reality to a place where no one will ever disturb the lovable tranquility. A good place. Then, the hoarse of his low whisper interrupts my state of happy dreaming.  

“Love, I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be back soon, OK?”

His arms are carefully removed and I’m left with nothing but the loneliness of an empty bed for two. My eyes flutter open just as I see the naked skin of his back enter the bathroom. I try to pout, but the view of his freely uncovered bum makes the attempt unsuccessful and I find myself smirking. This, Harry obviously notices.

“I promise I’ll hurry,” he chuckles just before thrusting the door close behind him.

“You better!” I shriek, knowing he’s still able to hear every word I yelp through the door.

Running water is soon heard from the neighbor room, and I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I glance across the room and the mess of thrown around clothing items, but when what I’m looking for doesn’t show I quickly get onto my feet and walk to my wardrobe. Slung across the surface of it are Harry’s skinny jeans, but I ignore them as if they are a fly and open the drawer beneath them, searching for a pair of clean undies. In the movement the pants slide out of place and they strike across the edge of the drawer before dropping to the floor with a lowered thump.

Huh, sometimes my clumsiness can be strikingly surprising.

I grab a pair of knickers and slide them on beneath the plain T-shirt, embracing the lovely feeling of my lower parts finally being covered by fabric. Unlike Harry, I am not a nudist.

As I’m just about to slide the drawer back into place my eyes fall upon something…unsettling. I freeze, glancing past my shoulder as to be sure that no one’s watching me. Then I seize the small box covered in beautiful black satin. It must have dropped into the drawer from Harry’s pocket when the jeans fell to the floor. Next thing I know, my fingertips are aching from the curiosity making my head spin, and my hands find their way to the small lock function. I press it and the box’s lid slides open in my hands.

Inside it, a small diamond ring in silver is staring back at me. 

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