When I wake up, Harry is still sleeping, one of his arms thrown lazily above his head and the other dangling off the edge of the bed. I carefully slide off the bed so I don't wake him, go into the bathroom, and hop into the shower. Ten minutes later when I get out of the shower, he's still sleeping.
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" I cry, flinging the covers off of Harry dramatically. He groans and covers his eyes.
"Too early," he moans into his pillow.
"It's 9:30, Harry," I reply, laughing at him.
"Ugh," he says, dragging himself off the bed and into the bathroom.
I wait patiently as he showers and gets ready and when he finally comes out of the bathroom, looking much more awake than before, I smile.
"It's time to explore!" I say enthusiastically. Harry points out the window.
"It looks like it's going to rain or snow," he tells me.
"Rain has never stopped a Tomlinson," I say, putting my shoes on.
"I'm not a Tomlinson," Harry replies cheekily.
"I'm leaving without you if you're not ready in five minutes," I reply in lieu of saying something snarky back.
"Should I take an umbrella?" Harry asks.
"No" I scoff. "Do you really want to carry an umbrella around all day? What if it doesn't even rain? It's like 45 degrees out, so you don't have to worry about snow."
Five minutes later we're heading out, Harry complaining that I should have let him sleep longer and me tuning him out as I enjoy the scenery. We walk aimlessly around the heart of Paris, stopping to peek in a few miscellaneous shops here and there and admire the different culture that's happening all around us.
Harry buys a miniature model of the Eiffel Tower which I tease him endlessly about, saying he might as well put a flashing sign above his head that says, "TOURIST".
Around lunchtime, the temperature starts to drop quickly and we head into a creperie to get some food and keep warm.
I order a crepe with whipped cream and strawberry syrup while Harry opts for the crepe with fruits and butters in it.
I wrap my hands around my coffee mug and stare intently at Harry.
"Are you glad you came to Paris with me?" I ask.
"Of course I am," Harry responds. "It's so beautiful, even more so than I imagined. And I couldn't think of anyone better to come with."
I smile in spite of myself and concentrate on my cup.
"Are you glad you brought me?" Harry continues.
"No, I wish I would have brought someone who doesn't hog the covers during the night," I reply decisively.
"Do I really?" Harry says, and the astonished look on his face makes me laugh.
"A little," I admit, then thank the waitress for my crepe.
"Sorry," Harry apologizes.
"It's okay. I guess that just means I'll have to sleep closer to you so I don't freeze to death," I say.
Harry looks genuinely concerned. He's about to say something else, but I stop him.
"Harry, seriously. Chill. It was a joke."
"Yes, one of the famous Louis jokes," Harry says.
"I'm notorious for them, I must admit," I say, placing a hand on my chest melodramatically. "Even here in Paris I have people coming up to me- random strangers!- and asking me how I do it." I shake my head. "I just say, 'Sorry. A joke master never reveals his secrets.' I can't tell you how many people I've disappointed so far."
Harry laughs and I swear the heavens open up and the angels are singing, because I've never heard anything so beautiful in my life.
"Ready to go?" I ask fifteen minutes later when we've both finished our crepes and have paid.
"Yeah, let's go," Harry replies, standing.
"Where do you want to go next?" I ask.
"Let's walk by the Seine," Harry responds. I agree and we start toward the river. Just as we're nearing it, snow begins to fall. "I told you!" Harry tells me, tilting his head back and sticking his tongue out.
"You look stupid," I say and continue walking. "I don't know who you are." I've walked about five steps when Harry grabs my shoulders and spins me around until I'm facing him.
"Don't make fun of me," he says, pouting.
"I'll do what I want, thank you," I reply.
"Hey, look over there!" Harry exclaims suddenly, pointing behind me. I turn around, confused, and look for something spectacular. I see nothing.
"What?" I say, turning around.
Harry pulls me closer and shoves a handful of snow down my jacket. I gasp and pull away.
"Harry, you-!" I say, wincing as the snow makes contact with my stomach.
"Gotcha!" Harry says and runs. I chase after him, slipping and sliding precariously on the ice and snow. People stare as we run by them, but I don't care. Harry needs to pay.
I catch up to him and shove a handful of snow down his coat as well. "That's what you get," I say smugly.
Harry doesn't even blink before hurling a snowball at me. It bounces off my shoulder and deteriorates when it hits the ground.
"Jerk!" I say, gathering snow into a ball and throwing it as his retreating back. It smacks him right in between his shoulder blades. He whirls around and throws another one at me but I duck and it whizzes past my head. "Maybe next time," I say tauntingly. I retaliate by launching one at him once more. It hits him in the shoulder and he falls to the ground screaming,
"I've been shot!" I laugh and hurry over to him.
"No, Harry!" I exclaim, playing along.
"I can't...I'm dying," Harry gasps, reaching for me.
"I know what you need!" I reply.
"A doctor," Harry responds, closing his eyes. "Goodbye Louis."
"No, you need mouth to mouth," I say. Then I bend down and press my lips to his. Harry's eyes fly open and before I know it, he's kissing me back. I'm not sure how long we lie there, but eventually we both pull away.
"You were right," Harry tells me, smirking. "That was just what I needed."