Dreaming Of You // If I'm Still Dreaming

I felt the world cracking open under my feet. Jeanne? There? Stunned I turned my head towards the direction he was pointing at, hoping it would be a dream or some sort of cruel joke. But it wasn’t. It was real. There she was, standing with a glass of wine between her hands, laughing at someone. She was wearing a black dress. I had never seen her wearing black before. She looked totally different, equally beautiful. My blood boiled through my veins. I hadn’t been so happy and at the same time so mad of seeing somebody in all my life.

I quickly glimpsed back at Antoine. He was pushing his chin in her direction, impelling me to go to talk to her. What should I have to do? To face her or leave? My first instinct had been to run to her and hold her, but the shock was making me stop dead at my spot. And I considered leaving, not seriously though, because I was dazed, but some part of me didn’t want to know what she was doing there, why she had deliberately lied to me.

To see her standing so near had put me under some strange form of commotion. How could I not notice her before? Like, the disposition of the industrial building was in fact sort of chaotic and the place was packed, but I knew it was mainly because I wasn’t expecting to find her there, even though I was searching for her with every fibre of my self. But I was looking elsewhere, at her pictures, and in my heart. What the hell was she doing there? She seemed so relaxed. Obviously she wasn’t aware of my presence or anybody else’s. Soon my shock transmuted to anger and I finally found the force to react.

I glared at Antoine one last time, and rushed over Jeanne. I could only hope to be able to creep up on her, and it seemed it was going to happen as she was looking away from me, with her glass near her shoulder in the way she used to hold it, and talking to some hipster girl. My heart was pounding furiously against my ribcage, skipping one out of two beats.

“What are you doing here?” I grumbled behind her back. At the sound of my voice she leapt, turning around. I didn’t know her previous expression, but now she was looking almost in panic, and paler than ever.

“Harry…” She muttered, staring into my eyes. The girl who she was talking to immediately disappeared. At least the hipsters were discreet.

“Why didn’t you tell me Antoine was the reason you were coming in the first place?” I snapped, our stare growing increasingly intense. God, I just wanted to kiss her so badly. I had been missing her like hell.

“Because you’d get this mad…” Jeanne claimed, her body notoriously tensing up. I just hoped my mum weren’t watching us.

“No, I’m this mad because you lied to me!” I exclaimed trying not to raise my voice too much.

“You would have been mad in any case–––she stated, and she was quite right, to be fair–––but I shouldn’t have lied to you,” she admitted, suddenly glancing down. One of my arguments had defeated her for the first time. I somehow rejoiced in my small victory.

“Do you still have feelings for him?” I told her, turning all shaking. Her attitude had made me drop my guard. She looked back up at me inquiringly. “Is that why you are here?”

“No, it’s not–––Jeanne said sternly. I’m here because of my work.”

“Your work…” I ironised, inwardly relieved by her words.

“Yes, my work–––she repeated. There are other works beside yours, Harry,” she pointed out with a hint of sarcasm.

“You knew you were coming all this time…” I mumbled, sounding as hurt as I was feeling, my heart breaking, my head spinning around. Jeanne frowned and knocked the remaining wine on her glass in one, leaving it on a table nearby. “Why didn’t you want to see me?”

“Harry…–––she whispered. We have spoken about this.”

“I’m so mad at you right now, Jeanne, you can’t imagine–––I blurted, shaking my head ‘no.’ But I just want you so…” Her expression hardened. I knew I needed to play hard. “I want you, Jeanne. I can’t help it…–––I mumbled, leaning closer. It is you… It has been you all this time. Since London…”

“You don’t remember London.”

“I do remember London, but not the same as you do.” Jeanne crossed her arms, glancing at me questioningly. “I saw you that night at the club. I was watching you dance…” Her eyes widened, but not a single muscle of her face even twitched.

“It’s impossible,” she muttered hurriedly.

“No, it’s not–––I claimed, approaching her a bit more. You danced to ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’ over that table and you know it. You didn’t tell me in Sainte-Mesme because you know it means something…” Jeanne was transfixed, though I noticed she was squeezing her arms.

“No, it can’t be…” She said, changing her expression to absolute disconcert. Something bounced inside of me.

“Would you believe it now when I tell you this is fate?” I murmured, leaning to the limit that earnestness allowed, able to smell her mystifying scent. My lower belly ached. “We ran into each other twice the same day in a city as London. Jeanne, I don’t think you understand…” I shook my head lightly, fixed on her eyes, but as always I just couldn’t read her. I needed to double my effort. “I was there watching you dance, and then you went down from the table and kissed the guy standing right next to me.” This should have some sort of effect, but then I insisted. “I made Liam come back the next night to see you again but you weren’t there…–––I muttered. And every time in London for a while I went there looking for you, and every time Liam returned I asked him to do the same… That moment captured my mind in a way I can’t explain. I dreamt of you for so long…”

Jeanne slowly parted her lips to speak, but said nothing. I was fighting the urge to cup her face around my hands and just kiss her. She battered her eyelashes twice, as coming out of a daydream. I waited a second. I didn’t know what to expect, so I started to despair.

“Can we be just friends?” She said softly without looking away. I threw my head back, frustrated. God, she was so infuriating. How could she not see it? How could she say something like this to me?

“I don’t want to be your friend!” I snapped, coming to look into her eyes again, my brow almost hurting for frowning so much, and she just battered her eyelashes. “Do you know what, Jeanne? Just forget it,” I ventured, turning around, quite mad, and searching for the door. But nobody stopped me this time as I was hoping; not even Pat, not even my mother.

I just left her standing there. Once I reached the street I realised how childish I must have seemed in her eyes, but I couldn’t manage her distance. After I walked to the corner I stopped on my tracks, thinking of returning, but what was the point? She didn’t care about me, and I needed to face it. I just wanted to cry, but I can’t cry in the middle of the street no matter how hard I want to. I rubbed my face, trying to collect myself, and began to walk towards the hotel. When I was almost there I heard somebody calling my name and turned around, filled with hope, but it was my sister, who was running after me. A bit closer I noticed Pat. I headed inside as gloomy as you can get.

I made it to my room and slammed the door closed behind me. I was mad, and angry as I hadn’t been in a long time, but I still needed to do one thing. I pulled my iPhone from my pocket and without giving it too much thought I called my art consultant. Things could be a mess between Jeanne and me, but nobody else would have those pictures. I was so dazed though I forgot the details of the exhibition. I just had the first name of the freaking guy, so that’s what I told Anne. In her usual discretion she said she’d manage to know and that she’d deliver the pieces to my house in LA through our regular procedure. She had been working for me for over a year so I knew I could rely on her. The moment I hung up Gemma rushed through the door. I wasn’t in the mood for explanations.

“Harry, why did you leave this way?” She asked, confused. Even as deranged as I was I understood she didn’t know what happened at the art gallery. For a second I doubted about telling her or not.

“Jeanne was there…” I finally let out. Gemma’s expression hardened.

“What? Jeanne?”

“Yeah, she was there,” I stated. But just to recall the moment made my anger return even stronger than before. “She told me she wasn’t coming, but she lied to me because of him!” I shouted, losing my temper. “But the worst is she didn’t want to see me!” I punched the air in front of me. My head burnt, and I could feel the sobbing rising from my chest.

“Harry, you are going to scare mum…” Gemma pleaded. At her words I snapped out of my mad state.

“Where is mum?” I said, glancing around and moving to the door when I noticed her absence.

“Harry,” mum entered the room. She didn’t seem too worried, so maybe she didn’t witness my encounter with Jeanne either. The idea chilled my mind a bit. But then I remembered the rest.

“Where is Niall?” I asked her.

“I don’t know…” Mum mumbled. Fuck. A thought suddenly came down on me, the thought of Niall being the meddler he truly is. “At the toilets,” she continued talking to Gemma. Without exchanging any more words I rushed to the lobby. I was sure Gemma was going to bring my mum up to date, and my randomness would be self-explanatory.

“Do you really think she loves him, Tommo?” I heard Niall asking to Louis near the hotel entrance. How long had they been there speaking about my private stuff? I kept walking towards their direction but they didn’t acknowledge me. “You haven’t seen her in person, mate…” Now I was close enough. Niall glanced at me over Louis’ shoulder, who noticed his reaction and turned around.

“What the hell are you talking about, Niall?” I blurted, tapping my forehead. They both were looking at me in confusion. “Did you meet her?” I confronted him.

“Yes–––he snapped. I ran into her when I was coming out of the loo. We recognised each other…”

“What did she say to you?–––I grunted. And you, Louis, just stay right there,” I warned him, sounding quite pissed. He took a step back and lifted his hands, but kept his big mouth conveniently shut.

“Not much… I promise,” Niall mumbled, lifting his hands too as he realised how angry I was.

“What did she tell you?” I insisted, moving closer imposingly. They stepped back again.

“Nothing, she just asked me to take care of you and she, and she–––he stammered–––she poked my chin dimple.”

“She what?” I pushed him. Niall stumbled back, glancing at me full of surprise. I stepped forward. In that moment, Pat and Paddy walked up to us and I caught a sight of Louis’ back. From there everything was so fast.

Louis exited the hotel and even if I lost him in the street’s tumult I knew exactly where he was going. I ran towards the art gallery absolutely out of my mind. When I arrived, I realised he had been just a few steps ahead of me, as he was crossing the entrance. What the hell had gotten into him? How could he think I’d be OK with him meeting Jeanne under those circumstances? I rushed behind him, but when I motioned my hand to grab to doorknob I looked up and through the glazed door I was able to watch at Louis approaching Jeanne. God, she was just so beautiful with her hair wildly pulled to the side and her stretchy dress… He talked to her, just a few words. Jeanne frowned a bit and closed her eyes, and in one of her soft, long, feline gestures she passed her arms around Louis’s neck and held him. My heart stopped beating. Moving mechanically I turned around to leave.

–.–.–

Notes

Worse than you expected.

Today is a sad day for our fanfiction family as our friend PVRIS has been put on life support. Our best way to honour her is to work harder. I worked two whole nights on this chapter, and the next one will be even longer. I burn my eyelashes for this story, but in the internet, as in real life, anything works on its own. This story'd never exist without its friends, so don't try to steal it. It's people who read it that makes this story special, not numbers or the story by itself. It has been removed from several sites in the last few days. If you want to read it on Wattpad, managed by me, you can find it here. I'll always update first on this site because this is the home of this story.

Things are getting pretty mad. Writing this part reminded me of that time when the boys discovered DreamingOfYou's identity. Who was there at the time? @Morgan_Who, @Love_life, @Afriendofjenny. Let's remember those good time when Harry had no idea of what was coming over him xD Don't you dare to miss the next chapter! If you haven't yet, click the tenth star and become a friend. This story is nothing without you.

I love every single one of you. Thank you so much for keeping me going with your comments and your messages.

Any story deserves hate