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Dreaming Of You // If I'm Still Dreaming

'All this time'

Harry’s POV

“Jeanne…” I say in a quotidian exercise of meta-communication. I’ve grown fond of these late-in-the-afternoon phone conversations we have daily, even when we’ve spent all morning in rehearsal together. “Do you think I can do it?” Truth is, the first day of shooting is just around the corner, and I won’t deny it makes me anxious. Disclosing myself to her has never been the issue.

“Yes,” she states blithely without thinking twice, and I can’t help but melt. Since the wedding I’ve been feeling extra close to her. I can’t explain… After half a year of comings and goings, it really feels we’re friends now. It’s like, accepting I prefer this reality to any scenario where she’s not included has changed something for the better. We get to do these things, and it doesn’t feel awkward anymore.

“With you I can…” I whisper in my raspiest tone. To share this crucial time with her means more than she can imagine. She doesn’t know the way she changed my life, and how reassuring her attitude is. People always perceive me as self-confident, and I am, but that’s just a side of things. I’m human too.

“You don’t need me…” Need is not exactly the word.

“I know…” I sit up as if she could see me. I’m not nervous, but quite the opposite. “It’s just, when you are around I’m a better man…” Jeanne stays in silence, and I breathe in to speak again before she does. “Could you answer just one question for me?” If I’m being honest with myself, reciprocity is something I have to face. I can hear how she takes a deep intake of air. “Did you ever learn anything from me…?” I remember being so worried about this… It’d be silly to think I could have half of the impact she had on me, but maybe…

“Yes…” Every single molecule tells me she’s smiling, and my whole self goes weak. “You taught me that when you put your heart out there, magic happens.” I listen to her as if she were speaking from a very distant dream. When I realise I’m in the verge of tears, itchy nose and eyes on fire. “Harry…” She says. The plea-like timbre on her voice sends shivers down my spine.

“Yes?” I quickly compose myself, rubbing my nose. But we fall to silence.

“Would you mind coming over?–––she talks ever so softly. “Lara is at Hans-Peter’s, and I… J’ai quelque chose à te dire.” I frown.

“You know I got that, right?” I inquire, instantly cheeky. Of course she knows, though I wonder why she switched languages. She doesn’t do that often. “I’m going to see Louis…–––I look at my watch–––but I can be there at eight…” I’m not mad at the book anymore, or the fact that she’s been helping him. Maybe I could have done more myself if I had known the way. “We could order something for dinner…”

“I can cook. I did grocery earlier…” I’m so thrilled at this sudden promise of domesticity I wish I could just skip Louis. It’s been lonely since Niall and Erica left for their honeymoon. But as Jeanne herself suggested, it’s time to set the record straight.

“I’ll be there…” This is by far a better prospect than spending the night prepping myself for interviews.

“I’ll be here…” At her words I can’t do other than beam. But before I can add another word, she hangs up. I stare at my mobile longingly. What is it that she has to tell me?

–.–.–

And it’s your voice, your voice of dreams, your voice of soul.
It’s your eyes that call me in silence, that make me go astray,
Unrolling a mystery that drags me through the maze of our friendship
To your bed.

Walking towards Louis’ house I repeat the lyrics I’ve been working on for the film as a comforting mantra. I’m not sure why I wrote them, or how. They were there, right off top of my head one morning after a dream I can’t recall. As I keep getting closer, I struggle with an intense urge to hump my back. No gated property, so to be spotted means to be screwed. That’s why I have to act casual, and not even try to go unnoticed. It’d only make things worse. At least it’s a fact Louis is not stalked anymore. Nobody has given me that deference, though the cat-and-mouse game is always easier to play here in London. It’s still difficult to believe that what happened to us could have such everyday repercussions. But here I am, all paranoid to be even remotely linked to him. We should have organised this meeting in a different way. Too late now I guess.

“Hey,” Louis greets me. I sense he checks the street at my back in the exact same attitude. “Come on in…” He slams the door closed and I just stand here, not really knowing what to do. I glance around at the grandeur of Belgravian interiors. He’s done some changes. A pat on my arm notifies me I have to follow him. “Do you want a beer?” He asks as we walks towards the lounge area.

“I’m fine–––I state. I’m driving.” I didn’t come here to hang out.

“Yeah. Of course.” He throws himself on the sofa opposite at me and grabs his bottle of Stella. “Take a seat.” At his gesture I comply, trying to get comfortable. “How’s life?” So it’s going to be chit-chat for now.

“It’s OK… I’m going to Jeanne’s later.” I don’t talk to his face, but rather looking at some Art Deco poster on the wall instead. It might not be the most suited approach to let him know this can’t go on forever. “She told me she needs to tell me something… Probably about the film.” Louis squints. Why am I even telling him this? We are not the same people than five years ago.

“Right…–––he mumbles. I saw her on Tuesday.” My body violently jolts.

“For therapy?” I retort. What the fuck, Harry? This is the attitude that brought us here in the first place. I immediately cover my face. “I’m sorry–––I mutter. No more passive-aggressiveness… There’s enough Jeanne to be friends with the both of us.” There is. There’s no denial she’s golden, and that she wants him in her life. It has nothing to do with me. “So…” I pull my hands down. Louis doesn’t seem to acknowledge my tantrum. A while ago I would have expected him to go for my jugular. “Did you manage to mend things with Liam?” To the core of the matter. Nice and easy.

“Yeah. I talked to him and apologised…” He takes a sip of his beer. “No wonder he lost his temper, considering all the jokes I make about his family.” It’s quite mature of him to own up to how awful he’s been lately, and also straight to the chase. At this pace this will be over soon, which is good, because I just want out. “I apologised to Niall too. I shouldn’t have left that night…”

“I’m glad you did,” I claim. God knows I didn’t want to cross the ultimate frontier, but if the wedding had depended on it, I would have lived up to expectations.

“You know what I mean–––he scolds me, sounding a bit annoyed. I shouldn’t have left the way I did, without being sure the cufflinks were safe.” He clearly doesn’t want to joke around with the issue. I know he’d have never agreed. Any other option would have been a done deal, no matter how illegal or morally reprehensible.

“How’s the book going?” I try to get the conversation back on track.

“We chose a title…” He insists on the little competition I started, so I abstain to get crossed. “‘Come Undone,’ like Robbie’s song, you know…” I assent. Fitting. It wasn’t one of his favourites for nothing. “It’s really boring,” he flicks his hand. No coke use’s allusions? “I’ll probably disappoint everyone. I’m used to it anyway…” I scrunch my face. Even if we’re not the best of friends, I don’t enjoy when he speaks about himself so dismissively.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit, unable to continue to go in circles until he decides to open the game. “I don’t know if there’s something you want me to tell you…”

“I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” He shrugs. I nod, wringing my hands. I might try to joke about it, but I’m aware it hasn’t been a fun topic in a long time. If we had imagined how it’d turn out our public interactions would have been different from the onset.

“I think the main difference between how we received the fans’ attention was that, most of the time, you were in a committed relationship, while I wasn’t,” I speak in an extremely thoughtful way, trying to make the words less upsetting. I want him to know I’m empathetic, even if it didn’t look like it. “After a couple of collective meltdowns I just retreated completely to protect myself…” The reaction to Taylor was a big red flag. I knew I’d never be able to have a normal relationship in the public eye while in One Direction, with such overprotective fans. “There wasn’t an ‘Eleanor’ for me in a long time, but every girl I met asked me about the rumours, and it wasn’t pleasant, though I understand that doesn’t even compare with what you got…” Louis glimpses down. “I saw what happened to you two… I watched as it became more and more difficult for you to be together under such a harsh spotlight…” He glances back at me, and I can see the hurting in his eyes. I avert my gaze. I do feel responsible for some reason. “By the time I met Jeanne, well, it didn’t matter because she… Well, you know…” I stammer. Louis quickly nods, letting me know he’s got the point. “So I managed to cancel it… I’m quite aware you didn’t. I don’t know what I could have done to make it stop–––I shake my head. No one was really listening…” Because these people, whoever they were and whatever were their reasons… they didn’t want our truth. We asked them to stop, trying to be polite not to alienate anyone, but they just wanted the truth they had crafted for us, and the rest was noise. “I don’t know… At least we could have stayed friends in private…” Louis rolls his eyes, and frustration hits me. “We went through so much together…” I insist at his negative. We did… We were like brothers, and it has to mean something. “I wasn’t in a competition with you, neither I intended to overshadow you in any way. And I feel hurt because you ditched my friendship for Jeanne’s…” I straighten my back. He lied to me for years, and coping with it hasn’t been easy. I’m trying to be the bigger person here. “You stopped being my friend so you could be hers without feeling guilty…”

“No. Jeanne has nothing to do with this–––he states, straightening up as well. At least not directly…” I can’t help but squint at him. “After some things I just couldn’t be your friend anymore.”

“Some things?” What is he talking about?

“While you felt uncomfortable but pretended it wasn’t happening, I just couldn’t…” His voice turns as sharp as a knife. “As if the public abuse everyone around me endured, and the paranoia it created weren’t enough, some people crossed all boundaries, and I couldn’t stay the same…” What is he saying? “Some people, Harry…” Louis shuts his eyes, and I look even harder at him. “They had very twisted fantasies…–––he grumbles. I’m not talking about your regular smut or a kink, I’m talking about paedoph…” A massive chill runs down my spine.

“What?” I react, cutting him off, as I jump on my feet. My head begins to spin around.

“Sometimes they wrote things…–––Louis continues, standing up too–––where one of us was underage and the other was like…” He chokes up. No, no, no, no… “Like the step-father, or whatever…” My eyelids drop. “And I couldn’t… I just couldn’t stay the same knowing that…” I’m…

“How… How did you learn that?” I manage to ask. Louis looks reluctant to speak.

“Jeanne’s thesis…” At the words, my entire world crumbles down.

“Jeanne knows…?”

“She found out while researching…” Shame and an instinct I didn’t know I had inside of me overtake my self. “But there’s only a footnote about it…” A footnote…? Something from the day of her defence irrupts in my thoughts. Texte mentionné au notes de bas de pageNotes de bas de pageBas de page… My body automatically starts to shivers. “People don’t tend to read them. It’s an academic thing. Too bad I’m not an academic…”

“Her thesis…” I murmur, the memory almost coming to life before my eyes. Jeanne’s horrified expression when she turned towards me. How she prevented my translator from doing his job. The look in everyone’s faces when I was trying to grasp what was going on. The way she fought the main examiner. Her last resort when everything went down… And the ultimate reason why she didn’t want me there… Because she knew things that could potentially upset me. My ears buzz.

“She doesn’t know I’m aware. I never mentioned the issue,” Louis carries on, but I barely register what he’s saying. My knees go weak. “Harry, Harry,” he calls my name as he realises, stepping forward. “What’s happening?” My fans hurt me even more than the only woman I’ve ever loved… That’s what’s happening.

I collapse onto him, convulsing in a fit of heaving. With the strength I have left I release myself from his grip and stumble my way towards the nearest bathroom. I crouch down to the toilet, the smell of bleach making me feel sicker than I already am. I gag over and over, my body getting exhausted at the effort. When the nausea finally stops I stare at the porcelain underneath me, impotence reaching every corner of my being. A teardrop falls to the water, and another, and then another one…

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Harry…” Louis holds me, after following me inside. “It wasn't our fault…” His groan makes my crying double. I just don’t know anymore… We fall back to sit on the floor, as he rocks me back and forth.

“Why did they hurt us like this?” I mumble. Louis howls like a wounded animal, and I realise he has kept this to himself for years. My grip grows even tighter. “They were supposed to love us…”

“I don’t know, Harry. I don’t know…” He mutters. How many of these hugs were necessary to unleash this hell? How many…? What did they do to us? As we exhale our last sobbing he lets go of me, and I move to rest against the wall, knackered. I glance down. I can’t even look at him without feeling dirty and ashamed.

“During her defence Jeanne got in an argument with the main examiner–––I begin to speak to try to get rid of this sudden awkwardness. She didn’t want to talk about something, and I didn’t realise back then, but now it makes all the sense. It was this…” I glimpse at Louis, who’s watching me in awe. “She just stood up and left. Her director had to chase her and bring her back…”

“Are you telling me she risked her diploma…?” Louis asks, and I nod my head in response. It’s all so clear now. “You came back to promo as if everything was dead and buried… What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I don’t know!–––I exclaim, feeling exposed. I got jealous of him and lost it.” The presence or mere mention of any of the guys related to her always has this effect on me.

“Harry, do you realise what it means…?” He sits up, leaning forward. “She jeopardised the most important thing in her life to protect you… And she did because she was in love with you…” I shoot him a lop-sided glare.

“It’s impossible–––I say. She did it because she felt responsible.” Louis looks at me as if he were about to scold me.

“Is that what your heart tells you?” He mutters instead, disarming me.

And many images of Jeanne rush inside my brain all at once. One look, amidst her million expressions, becomes fixed in my mind… The loving look she gives me sometimes, like at the bar in Paris the night I got jealous of that Bastien guy, and again at Jimmy’s interview when he teased her about having my babies. I always thought it was the look of pity… Then her timid smirk at the Opera after I thought she was crying, and that morning we had heartbreaking sex in her parents’ bedroom… And then the countless times she just stared at me without saying anything, like in the lift in Philadelphia before she left, or that she spoke to me in another language, as if she had something to say that I shouldn’t know about… The vivid memory of the way she made love to me that night at the hotel, preventing me to speak, creeps up on me, and how she blushed when Lolo pointed out her flies were still open after her defence… How she slapped me and kissed me that day in front of everyone… And that moment I told her that I loved her the last time I saw her in Paris… the green of her eyes shimmering as if they were about to pour. That day… Her attic returns to my thoughts with renewed force. The book at her feet had just fell off her hand when I knocked on the door… I heard the noise… And the dried sunflower I saw when I turned around to leave was one that she had kept from the first time we spent together… What else could it be…? What’s all this? Am I deceiving myself?

“Harry, listen to me–––Louis taps me on the shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts. At Niall’s wedding, I declared myself to her…” What…? “She rejected me. ” I can’t help but frown. So this is why he got so aggressive when talking about her. “I knew it was because of you… You are the guy of the interview. She still loves you. It’s you…” It’s you… It’s you… It’s you…

How many times have I dreamt of this? I don’t even have to direct myself anymore in order to do so. There’s one dream where I awake alone at ‘La biguine’ like the first night we spent together there, but instead of a house it’s some sort of maze, and it feels like when I chased her through that glass building all over again… When I finally find her she’s sleeping, and I wake her up with a kiss as if she were Psyche, and she tells me she loves me. I realise that’s the dream I was dreaming of the morning I wrote those lyrics… It was a couple of days after I read her interview, but the dreams have been happening ever since she’s back in my life. Should I be listening to them instead of my fears? Sometimes when she looks at me her eyes do shimmer as if she were about to cry… when I got upset the day we found that guy at her place, or when Lara nuzzled my cheek at the wedding… And sometimes after I touch her she brushes herself off, but other times she snuggles, and cuddles up with me… The peaches… She treasures them, but sometimes she can’t deal…

“Harry, she told you she needs to tell you something… You know what that means. You know she loves you–––Louis insists, and I can’t do other than stare at him. I knew it back in Philadelphia… I don’t know what got in the way, but it’s you…” Philadelphia…

“I have to go,” I state, standing up as a spring and stumbling a bit on my way out.

“Are you sure?” He follows me to the main entrance. “Are you fit to drive?”

“I am. Don’t worry.” I turn around and hug him without thinking twice. Louis holds me close, and I frown on the crook of his neck, patting his back. I wish I could change it all… After I let go I nod, and no other word is needed.

As I walk out the door I realise I’ve completely lost the track of time. I glimpse at my watch, making my way towards the car. It’s not eight yet… I slam the door behind me and reach out for my phone inside my pocket, hands trembling.

“What happened in Philadelphia? I inquire once she picks up the call. The line is filled with silence. “Mum, I know you met Jeanne at the toilets…” I plead. That’s where she was all the time she went missing, and where Niall bumped into Jeanne. He told me he sensed something was off. I just didn’t want to believe.

“Did she tell you…?” It was Philadelphia then… I shut my eyes.

“I figured it out…”

“I was at the buffet table with Gemma and Cal, and with the corner of my eye I saw you arguing–––she mumbles after a moment. When you left I sent you sister behind you and followed Jeanne there. A mother can always tell…”

“What?” I blurt, on edge.

“What their love-sick children are too blind to see…” Mum whimpers. So it is true, and not a dream… This is Jeanne’s secret, what she’s been hiding behind her happy-go-lucky mask, deep within the fascinating labyrinth she built around herself for me to get lost inside. She is the great pretender. And my mum almost spilled the truth on the phone that morning after my birthday. I prevented it from happening because I asked too many questions instead of just listening. My entire body begins to shake. “When I went in she was crying…” The image in my head is too much to deal with. Jeanne… crying… “It’s heartbreaking to see a strong woman in tears… She reminded me of a mother, venting alone not to upset anyone.”

“You knew… all this time…” I shake my head. I hear mum sobbing. The way she used to look at me during those days after I came back from France gets a whole different meaning. “You knew I was hurting, and had the key to make it stop, but you didn’t do anything…” They both lied to me…

“It wasn’t my place…” I can’t believe it…

“What happened at Niall’s wedding?” They pretended they had nothing to do with each other not just once, but twice. “You were talking about me… You held her wrist…” I whinge. The memory becomes clear in my mind. It wasn’t nonsense.

“I asked her to give your relationship a chance…” And Jeanne just walked away after bringing up Louis, because she knows damn well I fucking lose it when she names them. What does she want to tell me now?

“I’ll call you later,” I groan.

“What are you going to do?” Mum asks, quite terrified, and she has all the reasons to be.

“I’m going to talk to her.”

–.–.–

Notes

I'm really sorry if I triggered you. This is fiction, but fiction can hurt too. A lot of stuff in fandom shouldn't happen. For those who asked me what really happened at Jeanne's defence, and thought it had something to do with Larry, you were right. I'm sorry it took me so long to deliver. As you can imagine, these things aren't easy to write. With this story I wanted to reach the bottom of things, and also ask everyone (including myself oc) to try to see things from the boys' perspective. Be careful with what you dream. So the bottom it is, the lowest point. Worst scenario ever. Is there hope left for Harry and Jeanne?

Thank you for your time and patience.

Comments

miss you a lot friend,
message me sometime if you have the chance ❤️

You promised you would never make us wait for an update that long again... *cries*

Hello,

I hope your life is everything that you want it to be. It seems like the past couple of months have really changed my perspective of the world, and how much you need to appreciate the little things in life. You never know when life will snatch them away from you.

I have really appreciated all that you have done for me. I miss your constantly developing plot, and your infinitesimal points of detail. In other words, I miss this story so much.

I feel like so much has happened since the last time you updated. I hope you know that I am always eagerly awaiting your next chapter. Even if it's 5 years from now, and I am a fully licensed Speech Language Pathologist, I will try my best to keep up my support. Maybe next year while I am studying abroad in Italy you will find the motivation to continue. Who knows what's going to happen. Maybe I should take the quote from the t-shirt I am currently wearing. "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know you're gonna get."

Thanks,
Morgan

Morgan__Who Morgan__Who
2/13/18

Oh no, and then the moment came there's no next chapter anymore! What do I have to do with my spare time now?!
On a serious note: I loved loved looooooved your story so far. I loved the way the sequel wasn't the same as 'Dreaming of you'. Another timeset, other places, other people getting involved, and the tension being build up from the beginning till now. Their 'relationship' didn't went back to the way things were in France 4 years ago, it needed time to get together again and in a different way (happy about their love right now, but after 111 chapters I know things can change...). I really loved the way you wrote about Mark Owen as being Jeanne's 'Boyband crush'. I've been such a big fan of Take That and Mark was my first true love when I was 11 or so. His picture was hanging above my bed, wich I kissed goodnight every night. (I guess I've just spilled my age, haven't I? ;-) )
When I read the last comments, I think your last update was from 2 months ago. I really hope you can find the time, the energy and the inspiration to finish this story, because I'm hooked! Give me a warning when you'll write a book, I will be in front of the bookstore, waiting!

Love, Leah



leah leah
7/17/17

Dear You,

I've started reading this story two days ago. From the very first chapter I'm hooked and I can't stop reading. I don't want to go out, I don't want to sleep, I just want to read. Not to know how it will end actually, because I don't want it to end! So I try to find a balance between reading fast en making it last a little bit longer. I'm a fan of Harry from the day Sign of the times has released, so I have a lot of catching up to do. When you mention a song or a situation with One Direction, I look for it on Google or YouTube. So you're helping me to get to know the world of Harry and 1D, thank you for that! I've been to Paris a couple of times, It's such a beautiful city. I have good, romantic, memories of the times I've been there. You're writing about the city is so accurate and lively, it feels I'm there again by reading. My heart nearly broke for Harry and Jeanne when I read the last chapter of Dreaming of you. Happy to know there's a sequel, I going to start reading that now. I just wanted to write you this, because in the notes below the chapters you seem like a very nice, caring person. Thank you for writing such a beautiful story! (I hope my writing makes sence, English isn't my native language so I know I make a lot of mistakes. I'm sorry!)
Love, Leah

leah leah
7/15/17