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**


31. Silent eavesdropping


The next week passes by in what feels like the blurred lines of a single second. The company of Perrie and Eleanor is so much fun that I one morning wake up with a sigh, knowing that today is the day they are going back home to England. It's funny how when I've just started bonding with someone and actually grown close with them, they all seem to leave Paris to go back to their home country; just take Olly and his not-so-stylish hats as an example.

I really can't see the girls leaving me and everything else behind here in Paris. Everything is going to feel so empty without them; I'm gonna miss Perrie's sick sense of humor and Eleanor's kind heart more than I had ever imagined.

It's not like I have gotten myself two new best friends, but still I now feel like I can trust them with everything I may have on my mind.

Except that one thing I can't speak to anybody of. The thing I don't even like thinking about when I'm alone, as if it's gonna come back to strike me in yet another nightmare.

Either way, if there's something I'm sure about then it's how much I'm going to miss my two amazing and British friends. Through the past week we have shared a lot of good experiences and gone through a whole lot of awkward situations--and that's not something you forget that easily.




"So I guess it's time--"

I quickly interject Eleanor, perhaps a tad feverish. "No! Not before I've gone to the loo."

I curse beneath my breath when I realize how stupid the excuse I just made up is. It had sounded so much better inside my head. But of course, being as gullible as I am I had to speak it out loud.

Both of the girls had stopped by my flat to say a proper goodbye before heading off to the airport. Their faces had already been twisted in mourn when I opened the door and they flung themselves towards me in a sharing embrace, hands gripping tightly onto me by the moment. That had been the first sign of their returned feelings for me. When I let them through the door they'd said they were only going to stay for a couple minutes, but now an hour later they're still here, tears still hanging in the corners of their eyes only waiting to be spilt.

Gosh, it all sounds like such a dramatic teenage novel.

At least I know where I've got them for the next few minutes when I pretendedly go the toilet. Which by the way only reminds me of just what a stupid-thinking person I am. 

I stumble backward with the façade of an awkward grimace. "I'm sorry," I stiffly snicker. "Be back in a moment!" Then I twirl around and take the last few steps towards the bathroom. 

I lock the door behind me, resignedly dropping down to the smooth toilet seat. More or so, all the situation reminds me of is some bullied teenage girl with low self-esteem hiding her face from the crowd behind an ancient, inked bathroom door within her High School lunch break. 

Wow. Sitting here by myself with my pressed firmly against the lid of the toilet does not feel odd at all.

"Let's pretend that they both lived in England. Or France, whatever you think. Would you still not be able to see them as a couple?"

My body's sudden movements are inaudible when my hands drop empty to my sides and I settle up straight. Perrie's voice echoes through the back of my mind, making an anxious kind of curiousness ache in my fingertips. There's no doubt of whom she's referring to, is there? I swallow, troubled. The alert makes my limbs go numb. The next moment I find myself pressed against the bathroom's door grudgingly eavesdropping their words. I know I shouldn't be doing this, but the conversation taking place just in the room beside mine isn't exactly out of my interest. This is about me and Harry. My friends' opinion of us.

"It's not that I don't see them as a couple," I hear Eleanor heavily sigh. "You of all people should know how great I think they are for each other. Harry's been needing some serious feminine affection since the whole Taylor-thing and I really think Gabrielle has helped him in more ways than you would ever be able to count." 

An awkward break of silence arises between the two of them. The knot in my stomach gradually tightens. 

Eleanor takes a deep breath. "But, um ... you know how people always do those--"

"Just cut to the case, El."

"I don't think they're going to last."

The heart in my chest drops. All the nice compliments--if that's what they were--she just blurted out about my relationship suddenly all comes down to nothing. I thought that a friend's job was to support you through anything that might happen to you, but apparently I had been wrong. She doesn't even like me by Harry's side at all!

"What do you mean?" Perrie's suddenly light voice is telling me that she hasn't comprehended Eleanor's words completely.

Another sigh escapes the brunette's lips and I can almost just imagine how she in this very moment resignedly must be running her fingers through her hair. "Perrie, the summer is almost over. At least it will be in a month."


"I just don't think that they'll ... make it through. Gabby's a lovely girl, one of the nicest and prettiest I've ever met, but ... Harry's never been one for summer romances. He hasn't ever--and I've known him even longer than the other boys."

"You have?"

"Yes, remember how we both used to connections within the bakery?"

"Oh, that's right."

"...Love, in the end I just don't think it'll work out for them."

Perrie's voice shows a sharp edge of convinced certainty. "Unlike you, I believe that they'll support each other and make it through the distance. Perhaps Gabby will move to London? None of us know what's going to happen once they depart, I'm not even sure they do themselves, but we can always hope for the best and relay on them staying together. You should try too, El."

By a twitch of my wrist I unlock the door, throwing it wide open and stepping fast out of the bathroom with an attitude that is maybe a bit too excited. "I am finished!" I almost proudly declare and walk up to the two girls not more than a few feet away staring back at me in surprise. "Better get you sent off to the airport before you miss you're plane, eh?" I say, supposedly a bit too loudly. Hurriedly I drag them towards the enter and place them by the front door, sending the both of them a not-so-oblivious smile. 

Eleanor looks stunned. "Gabby, what happened to you in that bathroom?"

As usual Perrie has the need to swap in a witty comment. "She probably just took her daily dose of anti-depressants."

Before we know it our last goodbyes has been spoken and the girls has stepped outside my door to walk towards their hailed taxi, honking at them to tell them to hurry up. They get their many pieces of luggage filled into the trunk and soon the car dozes off in a rush to the busied airport. With the windows down I can just catch a glimpse of their waving hands.

Now that they're gone, I all of a sudden think of how wrong of me it was to put a move on them like that. In stead of freaking out and acting strange I should've just told them that I coincidentally overheard their conversation. Perrie and Eleanor are my friends and I should be more than able to trust them with things such as these.

An incoming call flashes upon my phone's screen and I pick it up, sounding a tad irritated. "Gabrielle here. What do you want from me?"

"Well, your day has certainly not been great-going. Should I brighten it up a bit?" a mischievous laugh echoes in my ear over the speaker. The edge in my boyfriend's voice makes me want to snort, but in the end I find myself smiling. 

"Not funny, Styles. Keep your mouth shut unless you have good things to say."

His deep, raspy chuckle is quickly detected. "Right babe, that's not gonna happen. Now moving on: Please say you're not doing anything this afternoon."

"Um, let me think: No."

"Great then, I'm staying over at your place."

A strangely amused frown takes place on my face alongside with a pair of slightly raised eyebrows. "Go on, invite yourself to come to my flat. Don't mind my presence on this phone-line."

"I'm staying the night at yours, okay? " it sounds from him, definite. "You don't really have a choice."

"I could just lock you inside my parent's bedroom and refuse to give you food the whole evening," I shoot back at him, shutting his mouth for a few long seconds.

"You wouldn't dare."

I laugh. "Oh yes, I would."

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