Dreaming Of You // If I'm Still Dreaming

"What do you find so funny, if I may ask?” I told Pat as soon as we jumped into the taxi.

“She got you so turned on you can’t even sit properly…” He managed to speak between snorts. I couldn’t help but chuckle and close my eyes, discreetly adjusting my trousers. Just when I was starting to think all was lost… Maybe I wouldn’t have even accepted to join them for lunch if she hadn’t kissed me, and what Jeanne and I had could have been over.

“Arab World Institute,” I muttered to the driver, shaking my head ‘no,’ and resting my hands on my knees. How could she do this to me? Ten minutes and a chat with her mother and I was still hard as rock. As the car began to move forward I watched the taxi she had climbed to with Anne, Mara and Maurice pull away, while Lolo was getting another one for his mum and Guillaume. I should have known he would be joining the party. He was her director after all. My mind grunted. She might have kissed me but she sort of ignored me afterwards, as she went on greeting people, so something inside me told me I shouldn’t drop my guard down. Anyway, I had been told even more people would be attending.

“Well, at least the slap doesn’t show,” Pat giggled, pulling from my chin to take a look at my cheek. I winced at his motion. God, she was strong, but I already knew that. Luckily the renewed pain helped me to start to go soft a bit.

I was expecting a restaurant but of course Jeanne couldn’t choose a regular place. I could have imagined it though, as a few minutes later we got off in front of a magnificent building with latticed windows that somehow resembled an old mosque, although it was quite modern and glazed. And it was so near the river Seine. She said once I always had to keep that reference and then I’d never get lost… But I was. My life before the afternoon I met Jeanne seemed a totally different life.

Pat and I made it to the lift without running into anybody in our way. It was pretty late for lunch but somehow I wasn’t even hungry. I just wanted to see Jeanne, to be able to talk to her and clear things out, and I wanted to give her my present. I had done plenty of work to choose that present and I was sort of proud of it. Could it help me to win her heart? Probably not, because Jeanne wasn’t the kind of woman you can buy with fancy stuff or big gestures, but it was meaningful and I just wanted her to have it. I led my hand to my heart and stepped into to the top floor. A brief stop at the loo to make myself presentable and then to face her again.

I hadn’t noticed any presence besides Pat’s when I stood in front of the mirror, but as soon as I glanced up I realised Guillaume was standing right next to me. Our eyes locked for a single second, but I quickly started to wash my hands in silence without acknowledging him. By the corner of my eye I watched him fix his shirt and rub his stubble. We hadn’t been introduced so we technically didn’t know each other. I hated to have him so near without knowing what was going on between him and Jeanne. How could she have not told me if they were dating? I had the right to know. Well, ‘long-distance lovers’ is not an actual relationship, but still. We had been texting for months… Well, to be fair, I had been texting her for months; she just limited herself to politely reply. But she knew my feelings… I grunted inwardly once I forced myself to admit maybe that was the reason she could have kept it quiet, because she knew I’d freak out as I was starting to do right there and then. Awkwardness grew bigger as Guillaume didn’t seem to be in a rush.

I dropped the paper towels to a bin and glanced at Pat, who was standing right next to the door, and nodded as a sign that we were leaving. He opened the door and stepped outside, but the moment I passed Guillaume’s side he turned around, bumping into me. I stumbled sideways but managed to keep my balance, which is not an obvious thing. I could have easily fallen to the ground.

“Excusez-moi,” Guillaume said with a grin. How could he dare to speak to me in French? As if he didn’t know who I was… British manners were out of the question.

“What the hell is your problem?” I grumbled stepping forward until I practically met his nose. I glared into his eyes.

“I already apologised–––he chuckled. I didn’t know you weren’t acquainted with the language as you don’t carry a badge stating it, and this is France.” Very funny.

“You know exactly who I am, you frog–––I spoke through gritted teeth. I’m tired of your attitude. Don’t try to pick on me and just tell me what your problem is.” His mocking gesture suddenly hardened.

“You know exactly what my problem is–––he grumbled, straightening up until he almost reached my height. You could have ruined everything Jeanne had been working so hard on, you, good for nothing, British puppet.” In other circumstances he could have fooled me with that argument, but things were too obvious.

“This is not about Jeanne’s thesis–––I shook my head ‘no’–––but about she and I knowing each other.”

“So you know each other–––he grinned, tilting his head. There could only be a reason for someone like you to step a foot inside a University… A cunt.” What the hell?

“How could you speak of her in those terms?” I groaned and rapidly placed my forearm to his neck and pushed him backwards to make his back hit the wall, coming to firmly pin him. Guillaume whinged. “Jeanne is not a cunt to me, you, disgusting piece of crap. You don’t even know me and you feel so free to judge me–––I muttered, half shutting my eyes. I love Jeanne, and she…”

“What would she have seen in you, Chorus boy?” He interrupted me in a husky tone, whatever I was going to say.

“I have twenty million fans,” I let out, to quickly regret it when I saw a broad smile forming on his lips. Most stupid choice of words ever.

“Probably none of them would like you if they’d get to meet you,” he said to my face the moment I hesitated and released him. I scrunched at him. He had chosen the harsh path.

“Haven’t you seen the way she kissed me?–––I claimed, towering over him one more time. Whatever that’s going on between the two of you, she still prefers me.” But Guillaume didn’t seem to flinch.

“Even a woman like Jeanne can slip–––he stated with a smirk. We call it Stockholm syndrome. I say ‘we’ because I am an Academic. I set the canon,” he showed off shamelessly. I couldn’t help but clench my fists at my sides. “Do you know what Stockholm syndrome is?–––he asked in irony. When you get used to something awful just because you get to see it everyday, so you normalise it to protect your sanity…” His words felt like a stab to my heart. “Consider yourself a lucky guy, tattooed freak. If it weren’t for this thesis you could never get a woman like Jeanne–––he shook his head ‘no.’ Can you get a beautiful one? Maybe a vain bimbo using you for your fame, but the whole package…?” I glared at him, deeply breathing in. Things were about to go out of hand, and either of us seemed to be backing off. “Women like Jeanne belong to guys like me.”

“OK, the cockfight is over–––Lolo’s voice resounded across the toilet. Come on, Harry,” he said pulling from my arm as I confusedly glanced at him and at Pat, who was doing the same from my other arm to take me away from Guillaume.

“Lolo, does she like him?” I asked him almost randomly, managing to return from my mad state.

“Oh, don’t you know Jeanne at all?–––Lolo observed in an amused tone, as trying to lighten the mood. She likes everybody!” I couldn’t help myself and glared, but I knew nothing more would come from him. I should ask elsewhere.

I couldn’t get it though. How could Jeanne have something with an asshole like Guillaume? Because he could be all clever and bohemian, but he was a troublemaking twat. I knew I had acted like a prick but it was him who had started the fight at the toilet, pushing me and then with that scornful attitude. To make matters worse, they sat them side by side right across the table. Of course. It was their moment. And she seemed happy and far more relaxed than earlier, but it wasn’t because of him, his nearness or anything related to him. It was because of her, because she had achieved her goal. And part of me could be mad at her, but the biggest part was ecstatic for her. I had never seen her glowing like this. God, her smile, her whole self shinning like a star… I just couldn’t stop staring at her. The way her hair was wildly rolled to the side now that she had let it down, the shirt, the tie, the jacket, the stain of lipstick on the edge of her glass of red wine… How could she be this tempting creature? Of course she had all the guys smitten and moving as blowflies around her, Guillaume being the first.

Luckily I didn’t regret to have dismissed my interpreter, as I sat next to Maurice and Lolo and we just spoke English. I knew she was a busy person, but I wondered why Alicia had finally refused to come. Jeanne’s family was so welcoming. It was wonderful to look at Anne talking to everyone, explaining food and traditions related to it. She was an amazing woman, so vibrant. No wonder she had raised such an incredible daughter, even beyond their differences. But I was starting to despair as time passed and the moment to talk to Jeanne didn’t seem to come around. And I just needed to speak to her. Much more than that; I needed her all for myself, I needed all her attention, to be near her, to feel her, to make sure the kiss she gave me at La Sorbonne wasn’t the last one. But she just kept talking to everybody and glimpsed at me regularly. It seemed we couldn’t act natural around each other. Guillaume’s defying behaviour towards me hadn’t changed the slightest. He left an arm on the back of her chair throughout the whole meal, and touched her cheek or hair every once in a while. I felt like dying every time, as his words from the toilet continued assaulting my thoughts. God, I needed it to stop.

Harry: I need to talk to you.

Yes, a message wasn’t very original but I was driving myself crazy. It was time to take action. I saw the screen of her mobile blinking over the table. She discreetly glimpsed at it but ignored it. From that distance I was sure she couldn’t have read my name. I needed to insist.

Harry: We need to talk.

I wrote again. This time she reached out for the device and looked at it. She immediately glanced at me. I flashed her a cheeky lop-sided grin and she looked down to type something. My stomach churned. Lolo and Maurice were talking from above me, absolutely oblivious of what Jeanne and I were doing, as well as the people around her.

Jeanne: Not now.

A sudden rush of heat swarmed me. It wasn’t the answer I was expecting, though she hadn’t closed the door either. She turned away to talk to Guillaume and everything came down on me all over again. But this time the phone was still between her hands. I started to type frantically while glimpsing at her.

Harry: What is going on between you and your director?

She just stayed still. I continued typing.

Harry: Don’t ignore me!

I knew I was all over the place, but things were so bad at this point they couldn’t get any worse. I had nothing to lose. I carried on.

Harry: If he touches you one more time I swear I’m going to beat the crap out of him.

I looked back up at her and noticed she was reading. My heart raced inside my chest. And then my phone vibrated. A reply.

Jeanne: Do you want another slap?

I couldn’t help but grin inwardly.

Harry: Yes.

I quickly glanced at Jeanne and she had that little grimace on her lips. My insides melt. It was as if I couldn’t stand the joy.

Harry: You don’t know what to say. I love it when I make you lose your words.

I hit ‘send’ and began to type another message. I needed to play hard.

Harry: Excuse yourself to the toilet.

I glanced at her again and she was looking at me with a serious expression. I just wanted to talk to her. I insisted.

Harry: Excuse yourself to the toilet or I’ll manage to fluster you and you know you can’t stop reading this.

I grinned. I was up to anything, even sexting. I caught a sight of Jeanne reading. She couldn't resist me, as much as she tried. So I grew bolder.

Harry: I’m craving you so badly I’m starting to get hard just by looking at you, imagining your naked breasts under your shirt.

I smirked. There she was, reading and squirming on her chair. I knew I was so close to get away with it. I began to twitch inside my trousers.

Harry: I long to be inside you so hard I’m going insane.

And how true it was. Jeanne flashed me one of those unreadable gazes. I needed to go further.

Harry: You are so mad at me, but I know you crave for me too. Don’t fight it. I’ll let you slap me and kiss me as much as you want. You got me so hard, Jeanne, and in front of everyone. I know you love that. If you were sitting next to me I’d have your hand into my trousers.

I bit my lower lip as I sensed her eyes fixed on me, but I fought the urge to look at her.

Harry: You want me as much as I want you.

I finally lifted my gaze and she stared into my eyes, though she didn’t gesture to reply. Just one more.

Harry: Fuck, Jeanne, just admit it.

As soon as I finished to type I glanced at her but she was glancing down, transfixed. What was she doing?

Jeanne: My finger along your chest.

My body shivered violently. She wanted me… Whatever that was going on between them, well, it was as I just said, she preferred me. This passion we shared was impossible to avoid. I began to type again.

Harry: Fuck, Jeanne… We need to talk.

I stared into her eyes. I knew I could expect anything from her because she was this subjugating creature. But I loved her…

Harry: You are going to drive me crazy… Excuse yourself to the toilet.

–.–.–

Notes

One thing was constantly in my mind while writing this chapter, though I can't tell because it's kind of naughty ;) I don't know about you but I loved the way he reacted when Guillaume said the 'c' word. He might be a mess but each chapter I fall deeper for him, which is kinda weird.

So, after this, would you say there's something going on between Jeanne and Guillaume? Why is Harry so fixated on the idea? After all that sexiness, will Jeanne finally excuse herself to the toilet and bring some peace to his tortured soul? Don't miss the next chapter!

I can't thank you enough for sharing your time with this story and reading, caring, supporting and everything. It means the world to me. Let's take this story to 1000 comments. I want to know why you are there. I want to know you. Your feedback really makes the difference. I love you all <3