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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27. Scared men vows

 

My first encounter with Mr. Moreau is a rare state of awkward, but as most of the times meeting your girlfriend’s family for the first time, it’s nothing unexpected. And just in the usual timing, the tension softens up after a couple hours time in each others company.

Mr. Moreau is a proud man with a big heart; which only beats for the daughter he loves more than anything in the world. He has a habit of laughing too loudly, and no one can put him down even if they tried their best. The lovable and colorful personality in him is just too big for anyone to blow out. Something about him makes the people around him smile even when there’s noting to feel happy about.

   Some time later the dinner plates are dirtied up with sauces, potatoes, salad and some small chunks of salmon on the elegant dining table alongside with the soon-to-be empty bottle of red wine. The light that earlier had streamed through the windows of the living room has now gone away, leaving us to turn on the lights in the later hours of the evening. It doesn’t mean a thing to me, though: Looking at Gabrielle’s face in the flickering lights of the candles around the dining table only makes her stunningly beautiful charecteristics stand out even more.

“…and I had to walk home alone,” she speaks. “It was really creepy, actually. Even if you know the neighborhood you’re scared of drunken men yelling after you when you’ve passed them. You know—”

“Harry.” Mr. Moreau cuts his daughter off, staring blankly over at me with a look on his face that can almost be compared to petrified. “Can I exchange a few words with you?” He gets up from his chair and starts to walk out towards the entrance hall of the house, not really leaving me another choice than to go after him.

My chair dredges over the floor and my dining napkin is dropped to the table as I rise from the table. “Sure,” I mumble. In a few fast-paced footsteps I hurry to follow after him.

When I get out into the hallway it’s a man with eyes as cool as ice meeting me. He shuts the door behind me after I’ve stepped into the room, shutting it behind him with a swift and attentively thrust of his hand. When his bald head turns to look up at me, it suddenly doesn’t look very kind anymore.

“Don’t even think about doing something that might hurt her,” he toughly tells me, his hands curling and uncurling into fits as he speaks. “She’s been through a lot more than you know of.”

I’m not long on objectifying him. “Sir…I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but—”

He cuts me off before I get to finish the sentence, letting out a loud sigh as he stares blankly at a specific thing in the room hanging just behind my head. “Yes, I’ve seen the way you look at her. But she’s vulnerable, easy to get to, and I need your word on this before I—”

This time it’s my turn to break off his words; at least as politely as I can. “Stop, Mr. Moreau. Please. I would never hurt her.” I swallow and finally force myself to meet his sternly worried eyes, knowing just how much they can misjudge me. The cover on a book says everything about the content, and I’m not going to let today be the day he’ll put me in the restricted area of the library. “She’s everything to me.”

He seems to ease up a bit as the muscles in his shoulders starts to let the tenseness flow away. “So I can trust you with her?”

I nod, realization taking away my breath. I really don’t know what I’ve just committed myself to, do I? There’s no way I would ever hurt Gabrielle on purpose, but what I know stands with even clearer letters in my mind: That every relationship has its flaws. Either way I end up telling the man in front of me, “Unconditionally.”

When a suddenly satisfied grin is placed on his lips, Mr. Moreau friendly pads my shoulder. “Then we should be on great terms.”

Wait. Did he just approve me as the boyfriend of his daughter?

The smiling man turns his back towards me, picking up his coat from the hallstand as he lets a light chuckle slip. “I’ll just quickly be heading down for some late grocery shopping. Would you mind telling Gabrielle?” he says whilst opening the front door.

“Not at all, sir.”

He gives me a stiff yet friendly nod before walking out the door with a last few words, “You can call me Franc.”

And that’s it. Without the exact words being spoken between us, Mr. Moreau has chosen to put his faith in me as his daughter’s protector—which if you think about it twice, actually sounds kind of stupid.

For a while I’ve had suspicions about Gabrielle. She’s hiding something from me, and I’m more than sure that we both know she has to let her secret slip at some point. Can’t there be just the slightest link from the conversation I just shared with her dad to the worrying thoughts building up inside her mind she just won’t tell me about?

There might be.

After staying a moment or two longer in the hallway I decide to return to the living room. In the mean time Gabrielle has relocated herself onto the couch, her long legs slung across one of its maroon pillows. When I enter the room in a few sloppy footsteps her head snaps in my direction, glossy, brown hair flickering in every direction.

“What did he say? He didn’t threaten you, did he?” she anxiously asks me, seeming eager to get up from the sofa with a slight frown on her face.

She always has something she can worry about, hasn’t she?

“No,” I hear myself say, automatically like a machine. She doesn’t need to know that her father has actually given me a fearful warning—sometimes you are better off without the truth, and in this case I will choose to follow the advice. I dump down beside her before she can get to jump up from the couch, gently caressing her cheek before looking into her shining eyes. “No, of course not. He just made me promise him something.”

A suspicious wrinkle forms on her forehead. “What?”

I take her hand before slightly shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter. Just know that I’m here for you, okay? No matter what happens.” I lean in to kiss her lips and she rests my head on my shoulder as I wrap my arms around her small body frame, eyes flickering close. “I’ll never leave you alone.”

She giggles with the hint of amusement. “Wow. You speak like those guys in romance novels.”

I cheekily raise my one eyebrow. “So what if I’d stepped out of one of those books? Would you judge me?”

“No! I would do this,” she laughs, turning her head towards mine and slowly reaching up to let her lips meet mine in another affectionate kiss.

The wonderful feeling of the moments like these somehow still manages to keep me captivated.

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