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**


39. Twilight will always catch up to you


The diamond is big enough for the dim lights in my room to flicker across the hard surface and my face to be cast back at me in clear reflections. The lightness of the ring in my hands is surprising; I’ve never held a diamond before and this has defiantly not been the way I thought I would live through the moment.

Thoughts are creeping through my mind, sneaking up at the corners where I won’t be able to let go of them again. The box with the gold letters saying, ‘Alex’s Gold Occasions’. The beautiful and enchanting ring inside it. How it had been hidden away in the very back of Harry’s jeans’ pocket. Is what I’m peering at through the edge of my teary eyes really what I think it is?

No. I shut the lid close, panicking. It can’t be. We only just started dating seven weeks ago. It’s unthinkable, too impossible. Harry would never do such a thing.

I grip tighter onto the small box, staring breathlessly down at it. Or would he?


My breath catches in my throat and I spin around. Harry is standing there in the doorway of my bathroom, curls damp against his skin and a long towel wrapped around his hipbones. He takes a step towards me. I notice the slight hint of a frown on his face. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” I put my right hand behind my back, hiding the ring from his glance. At least in a movement casual enough for me to put my hopes up that he didn’t notice.

“You don’t look all right to me.” In a second he is by my side, carefully brushing the loose hair around my face past my shoulders. I fasten my eyes on the floor as it suddenly falls in my interest. Avoiding eye contact is momentous. A single gaze into his eyes will give me away before I will even get to suck in a sharp breath of fresh air. Harry puts a finger beneath my chin to force me to meet his eyes; my mind is resistant to the action, but my head is as softened up as butter.

“Give me your hand, love.” His tone is soothing, but the gesticulations towards my cringed hand are more than obvious. I stretch out my left hand and he questioningly places it on the hot flesh of his palm; it’s empty. His face tilts upwards, his eyes pleadingly looking into mine. “Gabrielle, give me your hand.” I can see it in his beautiful eyes. The unspoken word, “Please” is radiating from the leaf-green in them, and I know that I can’t restrain myself any much longer. He’s got me under his spell. So, at last, I find myself reaching out my arm and uncurling my fingers from the object in my trebling hand.

“Oh.” The sight of the box makes Harry’s face stiffen, his features characterizing beneath the dim lights. His eyes have darkened when they again lock with mine. “Well, you weren’t really supposed to find that.”

I stare back at him in surprise—did I just detect the hint of amusement in his voice? The box is soon slipped away from my palm by Harry’s weary hands, the smile on his face making him seem eased about the situation. Which I am defiantly not: My palms are getting sweaty and the heart in my chest is almost jumping through Harry’s shirt.

I find his eyes. Breathlessly, I whisper, “Were you going to—”

As if he knows my exact thoughts, he finishes of my sentence, dimples popping in his cheeks as he looks down at me. “Propose? No. I think it’s a little early for that, don’t you think?” he slowly speaks. He opens the box that seems so small in his hands, and takes out the ring in it. He lifts my hand and places the glamorous piece of jewelry on my ring finger. Perfect size.

“But you can take it as a promise,” he smiles and looks down at our intertwined hands. “That one day I will.”

Suddenly his lips are on mine, and a few long moments pass before I realize that I had been the one to throw my hands around his neck and pull his face down to mine. Harry drops the empty jewelry box to the floor, smiling into the kiss as he slips his arms around my waist and pulls me close, closer than what we’ve ever been before…

At least with our clothes on.

“This is way too extravagant,” I say and lean back, admiring the adoringly beautiful diamond placed on my finger.

“I don’t see the bad thing in it. I only wanted to spoil my girlfriend a little,” he says, brushing off my comment. He leans in suddenly, softly pecking my cheekbone. I smile. “Let’s go downstairs. I’ll make us a pot of tea.”





Even though the twilight has fallen across the city and covered it in darkness, the rain is still falling down from a ripped up sky when we move outside. Sitting beneath the outdoor wooden ceiling of our backyard’s terrace, we try to keep warm with the help of a few of my grandmother’s wool blankets and our cups of nice, hot tea—something I am basically always in the mood for after being practically raised by our British au-pair maid. The heavy drops of rain is drumming against the ceiling, only making me curl up tighter against Harry. Something about rainy weather has always seemed nice to me. It’s a very good excuse for staying in for a movie night or just cozy up in the back yard with a couple of garden lanterns as the only thing to light up your surroundings, like now.

I take a sip of my tea, enjoying the tranquility. Everything about the moment is peaceful; our calm breathing, the sound of the soaking rain, the blankets wrapped closely around my body to keep me from catching a cold.

Beside me, Harry tries to stare through the bottom of his teacup. He wraps his hands a bit closer around its porcelain. “There doesn’t happen to be anything you’d want to tell me, does there?”

“What do you mean?” I calmly question. Shifting position, I turn around so I’m able to watch his face.

“I know you have been thinking about something lately,” he almost stumbles over the words. His jaw tenses. “…And it’s nagging me that I don’t know what.”

The heart starts racing in my chest. At first I feel the panic arising in me, but then it takes a sudden turn and twists into reproach. I had tried so hard to fight the pain of the past and move on, but still the persons closest to me had sensed something to be out of place…because yes, I know that Harry hasn’t been the only one acting strangely wary around me lately. The boys have, too. I should have known that they would figure out that something is wrong at some point. And of course, Harry would be the first one to confront me. I should have seen. This is all my fault, but reversing time two months back only to refuse the offer of being One Direction’s pianist for the summer won’t be a possibility.

I swallow, trying to make the lump in my throat disappear. Now the only question left is how I will ever be able to turn down those dazzling green eyes staring so pleadingly into mine at this very moment?

“Harry, I—”

“No, just forget it.” His tone is harsh, and I unknowingly cringe. He hasn’t ever used it with me before. He turns his face away from me. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I’ll wait for you to feel secure with me.”

“I am secure with you.” My times of trying to make him forget about the whole thing is more than over. Now all I can do is try to pick up the pieces.

Harry’s head snaps back toward me, his eyes suddenly very glassy. “Then I’m not sure you know what ‘secure’ means in this connection. Because it means something very different to me.”

“Harry…” My throat feels dryer than a desert. It’s as it’s torn apart when I speak again. “Don’t do this.” I cup his face in my hands. This time, I’m the one forcing him to gaze into my eyes. When he finally does so, I whisper, “I trust you. More than anyone else.”

The tensions in his muscular body seem to relax, but the look in his eyes that had gotten my mind filled with alertness didn’t fade. “You’re still not telling me, are you?”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

A loud sigh escapes him and he turns away, quickly running a hand through his messed up curls. “Are you seriously saying this?”

“It’s the truth. I’m not hiding anything, OK?” I take his hand. Even though he’s trying to play it hardcore, I know he is softening up. I can tell by the way his fingers curl around mine tighter when I seize his attention. I nuzzle up to him and this time, he doesn’t try to shut me out. “I’m not hiding anything.”

Harry sighs a last time before closing his eyes and letting his hands press against my lower neck, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. For now, he has chosen to believe me.

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