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**


21. Problems?




“Right guys, beer’s on us!” I say as I place the seven mugs of beer on the table with a little bit of help from Gabrielle. When we settle down beside the boys, Niall has already washed down a quarter of the giant mug. I snicker and pad him on the back. That lad had always understood how to drink—I can’t even count the many times he’s won in drinking games over me and everybody else present at the parties we’ve been to. There’s two reasons of why Niall loves alcohol: 1) He’s Irish and drinking is a part of his people’s traditions. 2) That lucky potato never gets hangovers…

An iPhone’s ringtone sounds from the other side of the table. Apparently it comes from Gabrielle’s phone, as she immediately gets up from her chair and pulls out the ringing phone from her pocket. “Sorry guys, I’ve gotta take this,” she quickly speaks, eyes widening in slight panic before taking the call and walking out into the ladies’ bathroom.

It doesn’t take me long before I notice that something around the table has changed. Without any luck, Zayn and Harry are trying to cover up the death-glares they’re both sending in my direction. It’s like they all of a sudden can’t stand being in the presence of me; every time I move a finger they tense and every time I speak, they try to avoid eye contact. I can’t think of any possible way that might have made them feel this way—but I don’t know anything, do I? All my life I have been kind of…selfish. This shouldn’t be the exception, should it?

“Tell me, have I done something wrong?” I finally hear myself ask them.

Both of them look at me with wild stares before speaking the exact same words in choir: “It’s nothing.”

Wow, turn down the telepathy.

Niall, Louis and Liam look at the three of us like we’re crazy. Obviously, they haven’t known what’s going on before now, and of course, this creates an awkward silence. Niall quickly tries to break it by taking another swig of his beer, but it only makes it worse.

“Why,” Zayn at last starts out and rises from his chair, “don’t we go outside for a little?” He stares eagerly down at Harry, telling him to get up just by a simple look and a hidden gesture. He obeys, and when they both walk outside the other lads are fast to follow straight after them, probably wanting to get an insight of their strange way of thinking.

Of me.

I swallow the lump in my throat. This is defiantly not something I want to be a part of. If they’re going to be mysterious and discuss something that important without me, I guess I can just as well sit here and wait for Gabrielle to come along. At least she’s someone I can always count on. Someone I can always trust.

That’s when I see her exciting through the doors of the bathroom, tears forming in her dark-brown eyes as she drops the phone in her shaky hands back into the pocket of her jeans.

I jump up from my chair and rush towards her.

“Hey,” I quietly sooth and wrap my arms around her small body in an embrace which quickly tightens. “What’s wrong, darling?”

I feel her hands fist my T-shirt when her hand nuzzles into the crook of my neck, like shes trying to shut out the world. “Nothing.” Her voice is barely a whisper.

The sobs going through her body shows me that she’s defiantly hiding something from me. This time she won’t be able to hide what she’s sad about from me. “Don’t lie to me. You know you can trust me with the truth,” I tell her.

In all of a sudden she lets go of me. For a moment all she does is stand there in front of me and stare right out into the air, but then her brown eyes glance up at me. “Where are the others?”

I decide to tell her the easiest thing. “They went out to get some fresh air.”

“Can we just wait for them?” she whispers. I nod, and we walk towards our table to settle down at two of the chairs.

She pulls her legs up beneath her and I sling my arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. What happened in that phone call could possibly have made her feel so torn apart? When I look down at her again, I spot a single tear escaping her eye and running down her cheek.

Her lips part in a slight stutter. “I-I…”

With the edge of my thumb I carefully wipe the tear away from her soft skin. “Shhh. You don’t have to. Tell me when you’re ready, not now if you’re not feeling comfortable with it.”

Gabrielle puts her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes in a sorrowful smile. “Thank you,” she mumbles in a slightly raspy voice. You can almost hear that she’s been on the edge of balling her eyes out. She grasps for my hand, and without resistance, I take it.

“What the heck is this?!”

My head snaps towards the door from where I heard the dour exclaim. It seems to have come from Harry, who’s standing right in the middle of the doorway, curls flopping over his forehead as he glares at me with such a rare kind of hatred glowing in his eyes that it almost scares me. I untangle myself from Gabrielle, and she confusedly stares after me when I get up from the chair and walk towards Harry.

I need to get something straight with him, whether he likes or not. He needs to hear me out on this one.

“Haz, let’s get this cleared out, okay? You’ve been acting odd around me all day, sending me glares and pretending to hate me. Then you and Zayn team up against me, walk outside with the others—surely to talk about me—like you have some kind of secret club I can’t be a part of. That’s very childish of you, don’t you think? After all, we’re not in kindergarten anymore. Just, please … tell me what’s wrong. I don’t understand this, I really don’t.”

A sarcastic twitch of a smile shows in the corner of his mouth. “Oh, you don’t understand. That’s very surprising to hear.”

Why is he acting like this? His childish ways of shutting me out is slowly starting to get on my nerves. “Why don’t you just tell me what you’re problem with me is?” I clench through my teeth, unaware that my hands has balled into stone-hard fits.

“You really wanna know?” Harry slowly speaks. He then takes a step closer to me, his height towering above me and casting long shadows on the bar’s floor. “You’re the—”

Before he can get to finish his sentence a hand slams against his chest and harshly pushes him away from me. “Stop this stupid thing before it develops, would you?” Gabrielle says as she carefully lets the hand on Harry's chest fall to her side.

A sorrowful frown takes place on his face when he looks down at her. It’s more than obvious that he’s hurt. “What, are you taking his side now?”

She sends a dreamy gaze at the ground in a weak try of avoiding his glace. “Honestly Harry, you have been acting like a jerk around Olly today—even I can observe that. I’m not telling you to apologize to him, but could you at least just try to explain to him why you’re mad and stop trying to pick up a fight?”

The furious look in his eyes are back when he turns towards me again. “Fine,” he snarls. “I think Olly is selfish to think that I don’t know what’s going on inside his mind…actually, I think he should just board a plane back to London as soon as possible in stead of staying here in Paris and trying to split up couples!”

The rage that has aroused in Harry is the last drop to make Gabrielle’s glass of water overflow. She takes a hand to her mouth as a heartbreaking sob goes through her small body, and before both Harry and I can get to do something she turns around and exits the bar to walk out onto the street.

Sweet. Not only did Harry make her cry, he made her leave the building.

His feet slam against the floor as he quickly runs out the door after her. Even from inside the bar, I can hear him shouting after her: “Gabrielle!”

It doesn’t take long before he’s stepped back inside the doors again. “She’s gone,” he says, not the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. “What did I do?”

“Nothing major. She’ll be good in a few hours,” I comforted him. But then I think twice—there is something major, right? “There is this one thing…” I start out, and Harry immediately turns his attention away from the floor, his curls dancing as his head snaps towards me.

I take a deep breath. “When she walked out of the bathroom earlier after ending that phone call, she was on the edge of tears. She wouldn’t tell me why, but the news she got must’ve been heartbreaking. I was trying to comfort her, but then you walked in and put a stop to everything. I guess that made her feel even more down…or something like that. I don’t quite know to be honest.”

There’s no doubt in his eyes when he turns away from me and exits the bar through the doors with a short goodbye: “I’ll see you guys later. I need to make sure Gabrielle’s all right first.”

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