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Dreaming Of You // If I'm Still Dreaming

'This is real'

During those months after I left her attic, to me, time ceased to be this implacable force that goes by and doesn't stop, and instead transformed into this fickle, mutable substance, rushing up and then suddenly slowing down, even returning under the shape of a dream or a certain particular light. And even when my busy schedule didn’t allow me to think about what happened, it was there, lingering in my bones, in every breath I took, just waiting for Time to slow down again to creep up on me. Because I was hurt, and even when it seemed Jeanne wasn’t there anymore, she was. Because even if I went through every possible stage of grief and then a few extra, I couldn’t get rid of the thorn in my heart every time the sun hit my face like the day she bathed me in the garden, or when I got to smell fresh coffee. She was so deep into my senses I almost couldn’t look at things without thinking about her.

And the thorn didn’t abandon me when I tried desperate measures. I knew it was foolish and useless, but around New Year I just needed to shut her down somehow. It turned out to be a mess, and mainly, it wasn’t Jeanne. It didn’t smell like Jeanne. It didn’t taste like Jeanne. It didn’t feel like Jeanne, but especially, it didn’t burn like Jeanne. I needed time and time was all I had, but also I had none, as I was desperate for my wounds to heal.

Nonetheless for a while I successfully managed the temptation of calling her, because I could be missing her as hell, but I was still mad at her. Geopolitical situation didn’t help me though, as after Zayn called me to tell me about the terrorist attack over Paris around Twelfth Night I tried to control myself, but in my despair to know if she was all right I surrendered and called her. Our talk was nothing out of this world, but just to hear her voice put my heart back into place. She must have received hundreds of calls like mine that day. It was so sudden I almost didn’t realise I had talked to her until I hung up. I knew she had been crying even though she avoided the topic. Her beloved Paris… Those lives interrupted by hatred and intolerance… I just wished to be there to hold her and comfort her, but pushed the thoughts away. It wasn’t my place. She could be polite and everything, but she didn’t want me there. Such a mad world we live in.

Staying in Japan wasn’t the best idea ever. I should have listened to Liam but I thought it could be a good opportunity to really learn more about the country, which had always captivated me. Maybe part of me simply knew everything would bring Jeanne back, and that’s what I probably wanted. There were times I swear I saw her walking around a market, in a temple or petting some random cat. And when I didn’t see her I couldn’t stop imagining her there, underneath the early-blooming cherry blossoms… At least it put me in the mood to read Swann’s part in the first volume of ‘In Search of Lost Time,’ and even went to see another Puccini’s opera, ‘Madame Butterfly.’ God, it was even sadder than ‘La bohème’… All was somehow related to Jeanne, it wasn’t a great mystery. I guess I was still trying to understand her, as if a book or a piece of music created by people who didn’t even know her could bring some answers. But I only got more questions, especially the day when, back on tour, Louis decided to reveal his high treason.

“Sit down,” he said, pointing at the bed while he went to sit on the sofa across the room.

“What’s happening?” I asked, dubious. He had been acting weird since he returned from England.

“I have to tell you something and I know you’ll hate it–––he explained in his usual cynical tone–––and then you’ll hate me because I learnt about it, but, fuck it, I have to tell you anyway.” I squirmed distraught in my seat as I noticed his concern. It was something big. “Jeanne… She’s leaving to Moscow…”

“What?” I snapped, attempting to stand up but my knees were absolutely weak. Moscow? My heart raced inside my chest.

“Yes, she’s leaving to Moscow–––he repeated, coming to sit by the edge of the sofa. Something about a Russian course and a seminar about somebody called Zhivago.” My mind went blank for a second. Too much information to process. I closed my eyes tightly, shaking my head ‘no,’ hands on my knees.

“Have you been talking to Jeanne behind my back?” I blurted sharply, glaring at him.

“Yes,” he simply said, holding my gaze.

“Why?”

“Because I need help…” My head fell forward.

“Why her?” I asked slowly, sounding impossibly hurt.

“Because she gets me–––he whispered–––and she cares in that discreet way of hers…” My heart shattered into a million pieces. Yes, Jeanne was that kind of person, always trying to help everybody, like the pregnant woman the day we met in Paris. My lower lip began to quiver, so I took my fist to my mouth, clearing my throat lightly.

“You know I would kill to be able to keep in touch with her and you did it anyway…” I said after a pause. I was madly jealous, but I tried to control myself, though in my mind I beat the crap out of him.

“I’m sorry–––he murmured. I’m aware of how nosy I can be, meddling in other people’s business. I was just checking up on her… I’m here trying to mend things now.” I just couldn’t even look at him. We stayed in silence for a moment.

“Do you speak about me?” I asked, returning my hesitant gaze upon him. Louis shook his head ‘no.’ I should have imagined it. Why would she speak about me? “Did she tell you she slept with Guillaume?” He flashed me the weirdest look.

“God, Harry–––Louis whinged, covering his face with both hands. I would never ask something so personal…” Why not? He’s always sniffing round inquiring about private stuff to other people. “I know you freaked out about the possibility, but I have to say you behave as such a poor gentleman sometimes, always assuming she'd fuck everything that breathes…” At his words fury overtook my body, and I led my hands to my hips, ready to stand up. But then I realised he was sort of right, and automatically glimpsed down. Surely I had many suspicions and fears but now, seeing things much clearer with the distance, maybe I should face the fact that I got a bit carried away… Jeanne having something with her director didn’t really make much sense.

“What is going on with you, Louis?–––I grunted, coming to look back at him. Don’t get me wrong, I am super mad at you but if you need to talk to somebody, you have me. You don't have to turn to her…–––I shook my head, trying to reason with him. We’ve been best mates for years.”

“Those times are over, Harry–––Louis stated, though his voice cracked a bit. Don’t you realise?” He half shut his eyes, gritting his teeth.

“No, I don’t–––I shrugged. Please, explain it to me because apparently I’m quite a dick.” Yeah, I could be sarcastic too.

“I’m so tired, Harry… I’m just exhausted–––he claimed, quite nervous. Only a contract prevents me from leaving this behind. This life brought me so many things, but what’s the use if now it’s taking all away from me…” He gestured with his hand to the side.

“What are you talking about, Louis?” I asked, rolling my eyes. God, he was such a drama queen.

“Everything!–––he snapped, bouncing on his seat. My health, happiness, sense of fulfilment, Eleanor–––he counted on his fingers. Everything. I can’t wait for this to be history.” He seemed quite angry.

“Is this why you tried the Rovers’ takeover?” Louis nodded quickly, pressing his lips together, but glanced away. I did the same, shaking my head from side to side. So he was a mess, and things with El hadn’t worked as well as I thought when he didn't mention the issue again. How had we come to this?

“It’s been there for a while, I don’t know, at least a year and a half,” he pondered. My eyes widened. “It’s not only because of the pressure. It’s all of it…” He let out in an awkward voice. I just nodded once. I knew what he meant.

“I’m sorry, Lou…” I muttered. I had been misleading everybody with my latest eerie attitude, and it was impossible to deny it had an affect on him. But Louis wasn't even recriminating me. He knew it takes a great deal to stay on top, and that there’s no such thing as bad publicity, at least for me. Things for him were obviously different. He had a girlfriend, while I was in love with a former lover nobody knew about. Well, to be truthful, they knew about her, but as everyone they just thought she was out of my league.

“I know you have been trying to forget about her, but you can’t…” Louis said in a sympathetic tone, resuming our original talk. I nodded, immediately glancing down. “And you can’t because you are still holding on to her, like waiting for a sign or something…”

“I don’t know if I’m waiting for something, but it is like she’s inside me…” I mumbled, resting my hand on my chest, lightly gripping my shirt, as my heart began to bounce violently.

“If Moscow is not a sign then I should add that ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’ ended yesterday…” Louis mused and I couldn’t help but scrunch my face at him. I thought she would have stopped writing it a while ago. “By your gesture I’m certain that you had no idea, and I get it. To think about her is one thing, but to read her is different, probably ten times heavier, as it is as listening to her mind… But you must know you got the girl,” he grinned.

“What?–––I snapped, absolutely dazed. Did I get the girl?”

“Yes, Laila took you back…”

“But I thought…” I muttered, puzzled, a warm sensation swarming my whole body. Louis raised his eyebrows, tilting his head at me. “She said I wouldn’t like it because things weren’t going to end well…”

“Then I think she’d changed her mind,” he shrugged, smiling broadly. I bent down over my lap, clasping my hands together, defeated. Looking for a meaning to everything was exhausting, and just foolish after she had reminded me it was fiction.

“Why are you telling me all this?” I shook my head ‘no’ without looking at him.

“Because she’s the love of your life…” Louis murmured. Then I remembered that chapter she wrote where the characters are discussing the nature of love during a lecture, the one we talked about at the book club.

What is the constant? The constant is the constancy of love…

Absentmindedly I stood up from the bed and walked towards the night stand, grabbing my laptop. I sat on the floor, opening the screen and beginning to search the site on the browser.

Once in love, in love forever?

As her words resounded in my mind I clicked on her story and started to read the last chapter. Confusedly I heard the door of my room closing. Louis must have decided his work was over, and that I needed to do this by myself. I read the whole thing with my heart tightened inside my chest, as if I was actually listening to her speaking to my ear, as she had done so many times. I finally arrived to the last sentences, my insides trembling, my heart rate, out of control.

Because he was at the same time illness and cure. Because as Shakespeare said, man is a giddy thing. And love is the strongest weakness.

I closed the screen, throwing my head forward, the moment when she turned around at the bookstore returning to my memory again and again. I rested the computer by my side and getting on my knees I reached out for the Elliott Erwitt’s book I had roaming around the bed. I opened it, beginning to pass the pages back and forth. When I arrived to the black and white photo of a woman glancing at her baby with their cat, I found the small envelope I kept with me when I left her present over the table. I took the card and read it.

Dear Jeanne, I’m not good at these things. I should leave the writing to you because you are definitely better with words than I am. But I just wanted to say that I feel proud of you and I know that your words will take you far. As for me I still haven’t figured out what my new dream is, but I know for sure you are in it, as it has been since the beginning. I love you. This is real. Yours, Harry.

Only Jeanne could stop this agony. I needed to see her one more time.

–.–.–

Notes

OK, Team Jeanne, admit the card he wrote for her is adorable! :P Harry has gone a long way since the first chapters of this story. It has been such a rush to write his POV, and now just three chapters are left. What do you think it's on his mind? And what about our lovely Mr. Tommo? You, naughty boy... For those who read 'Bizarre Love Triangle' now you know the end :)

So this is my plan for my next updates, as no one seems to be getting alerts. I'll update a new chapter during the week, and then I expect to be able to say when I'll be posting the last chapters. My idea is a multiple update on Saturday, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to stick to that yet. I'll let you know. Please, if you care for this story and for me, write a comment, send a message, blog it, click the tenth star, et cetera, as I need your support and feedback more than ever. This is a heavy moment and I need you! Thank you so much for reading and everything! Love you all <3

#JeSuisCharlie #JeSuisJuive

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