Dreaming Of You // If I'm Still Dreaming

Harry’s POV

I don’t know if for the sake of business or not, but Jeanne and I have been very close these past weeks since Carla’s audition. Even working like mad as we are, wrapping up pre-production, I’ve managed to take Lara out like the previous month, and spent some time at their home after dropping her. Erica is generally with us, and even Niall, and I don’t complain. It’s nice to be around them with Jeanne. It is as if they have known each other for a century. I haven’t told Niall about Larry and their resemblance though. I don’t want to get his hopes up about the possibility of Jeanne having a crush on him at some moment in time. I know there wouldn’t be a way to get him off my back, and frankly I want to leave the whole episode in the past. I’ve learnt my lesson. I’m not going to be that guy anymore.

The thing is, that might be easy to say, but it has been proved to be difficult to achieve. Earlier on when Jeanne was lying in the sun lounger in front of me I had a hard time looking away. The reason is not a mystery. I didn’t imagine she could ever surpass herself, but I was wrong. Being the mother of the most beautiful baby girl in the world has made her even more mesmerising than ever. She was just telling Lara a story, and I simply couldn’t stop staring. The little mermaid was exhausted after playing with me in the pool, and fell asleep over her mum’s chest. Jeanne threw a delicate pashmina around them, and cuddling with her daughter she fell asleep herself. I’m not sure I have beheld such beauty before, but above all, I don’t know how much of it my heart can take.

About half an hour later Lara began to stir on her spot as if she were waking up. Erica was immersed in her book next to them, but realised in unison with me, and rushed to pick her up too. Jeanne has been working a lot lately, between the movie and Stanford, and she deserved a bit of extra rest. Without saying a word we decided to let her sleep. Lara is definitely the most adorable child ever. She just rubbed her eyes in that lazy, childish way that makes my heart melt, and didn’t even whimper. I fixed her sundress, as Erica tightened her embrace around her and told me they’d be under the redbud.

I let them walk ahead of me, unsure about what to do next. Joining them was the obvious option, but what was keeping me behind? I glanced down. Jeanne hadn't even moved. I watched the line of her profile in the play of light and shadow. Our summer together didn’t fail to crash into my mind, the long hours beneath the willow, all the times I watched her in her sleep. She’s so peaceful when she dreams, eyelashes flickering, barely parted lips. I never understood why her expression looks so different from her usual appearance. Maybe it’s a common thing, and I just haven’t paid enough attention to anyone else. The breeze blowing around the poolside messed up some strands of her coppery hair and I instinctively led my hand down to hold them still. The touch made my fingertips tickle. What was I doing, being all creepy all over again? How hard it is for me even to stop myself, but I can’t ruin this. I’m so grateful that she trusts me the single person on earth she loves the most. It makes me think she does see me as a friend. I’m not bitter about it. I felt hurt and spilled it out in an excessively blunt way, but I’ve been trying to be a better person ever since I met her. She knows I deal with things, but that I always respected her.

When I finally joined them they were lying in a mat at the exact place Erica had indicated. I don’t know why it isn’t evident for her as it is for the rest of us, but she has to become a mother as soon as possible. I know being a mother isn’t mandatory for a woman, but this is Erica we are talking about. Her maternal instincts are so strong she cannot not take care of everyone she comes across with. First she adopted Niall when they weren’t together as a couple, and literally managed everything that would make him operative. Then she moved to LA and adopted me at her own risk. Now seeing her with Lara is so sweet it could give you diabetes. I’m confident Niall’s master plan is in fact working, and she’ll realise they have to have babies of their own. It’s the only thing they’re missing, not even the wedding. What’s a wedding anyway? You can have a deep commitment with someone without being married. Marriages end day in and day out. Children are forever.

As I got closer to the clearing in the garden I noticed Lara was facing away from me. Why do children always bring the best of us, and our most protective side? I could hold that kid forever. I want to make everything beautiful for her, memorable. I want her to have an incredible childhood. I could hang colourful garlands everywhere for her and dress her in pearls. She got so excited when I started shaking the redbud for the bright pink flowers to fall all over her, as much as with the piglet. She couldn’t contain the joy and the laughter, lifting her little arms to the air. That sort of happiness is just priceless. Erica melted on her spot, clapping her hands at her.

“Schweini,” Lara said as she saw me, fully awaken by then. I couldn't help but melt too. She has been calling me her own German-English version of “piggy” for a while now, and I can’t be more thrilled about it. Lara has a nickname for me, like, how amazing is that? Giving nicknames must be a family trait. I bent over and cleaned some flowers off her head, kissing the top of it. She smells like baby Jeanne. It’s the same scent but with that mellow touch of baby fragrance.

"My sweet Lady Lara,” I told her doing a reverence, because she’s a princess. Then I realised I was unconsciously paraphrasing a very recitative song by The Rolling Stones that is full of medieval airs. “I’ve done what I can. I must take my leave, for promised I am–––I carried on, semi chanting. This play is run, my love–––I gestured right, and she giggled. Your time has come, my love,” I gestured left. I prepared myself for the big ending. “I’ve pledged my troth to Lady Jane…” I bowed down at her in solemnity, rolling my hand, and then I realised what I had said. Heat arose from my feet and I felt the urge to look at Erica, who was glancing at me with gravity. “It’s just a song…” I muttered.

“I know,” Erica said casually, but awkwardness filled the space. Not for Lara though, oblivious of everything as a child must be. I sat beside her, pulling her over my lap. “Harry, do I have to worry about you?” She asked me. Something in my self-esteem resented it. “The date is getting closer, and you know… It’s been the three of us for many years, seeing each other every day, almost living together…”

“I thank you for your honest concern, Erica–––I interrupted as politely as I could–––but there’s nothing to be worried about. I’m doing great.” I understood her intentions and that she wasn’t talking about Jeanne, but I was feeling a little defensive.

“I know your work is exciting right now, and that a lot of doors will open for you after this, but what about your heart?” Where was that baby that could channel all of her motherly needs when I needed him?

“A long time ago when I was in love with your mummy I wore braids too,” I told Lara, trying to deflect the conversation, as I had started to style her hair. She doesn’t understand what it meant. Erica pouted her lips at me, I don’t know if because of my choice of words or because I completely ignored her question. “Look at this beautiful girl who’s letting me play with her hair.” I felt guilty and mended my behaviour, still engrossed in Lara’s lovely locks. “My heart is doing quite well.” But Erica wasn’t going to drop it.

“But you pledged your troth to…”

“Heeeey,” Jeanne’s deep, sleepy voice resounded near by and my heart skipped a beat. Almost busted. Thank you, Erica. “I thought you’d be here…” She said, getting closer. God, how much I had missed that voice. “Lara, comme tu est belle avec tes tresses…” She touched her daughter’s hair and glanced at Erica, assuming it was her merit. And Erica sure can be a pain in the neck, but she’s also fair as hell, so she pointed at me. Jeanne shot me a confused gaze. Yeah, I am a man who can do both. “On s’en va?”

“Are you leaving?” I reacted, sounding a bit too desperate.

“Hilda is coming to pick her up–––Jeanne explained with a timid smirk. It’s getting late and I don’t want to mess with her routine too much.” Until this moment I still haven’t figured out why Erica flashed me a questioning look.

I glance at Jeff and take a sip of my caipirinha. It’s getting dark and everyone’s lounging around the pool, torches being lightened, chill-out music filling up the air, but he just wants to talk business. He’s already thinking about the next move. Relax, man. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to make it through this movie to begin with.

“Why don’t you just go there?” He asks out of the blue, sipping from his drink himself. I’d almost prefer him to stick to business. I glimpse towards the area where Jeanne is, as I’ve been doing since I sat here, even though I can’t see her from my spot. Truth is, after Lara left more people arrived to the party, and everybody wants to talk to her. It makes sense. She’s the new addition, and there’s no denial; she looks stunning with her ivory, long summer dress, messy hair and lightly tanned skin. I'm not mad, although some dude is particularly insistent, so I’ve been trying to keep an eye on him. “She can take care of herself, Harry.”

“I know,” I mutter, but it still buggers me. That kind of guy gives the male gender a bad name. Like, mate, when a woman declines your company you just fuck off. That attitude towards women shouldn’t be socially tolerated. As if Jeanne hasn’t had enough. A sudden commotion disrupts the ambiance.

“Lâche-moi! Mais lâche!”

Everybody gets startled. I straighten up in my seat to see someone running towards the pool, carrying somebody else over the shoulder. It’s that guy… But who’s the second person?

“Lâche!” As the word resonates within my brain I realise… My heart freezes inside my chest. I watch him arrive to the edge and, with calculated malice, throw Jeanne into the water as in slow motion. She falls back, defenceless, gesturing up because of inertia, head and neck colliding heavily, as she hits the liquid element.

And I don’t think twice and run towards the pool, pushing the guy aside before I dive. But the bottom is dark like a tomb, and because of the bubbles I can’t find her. I look left and right, and swim deeper. Anguish overtakes me completely. In that instant the pool lighting turns on and I see her body ascending, wrapped around her long, fair dress, arms extended to her sides in gesture of abandonment. And I don’t care if I barely have oxygen left. Propelling myself with arms and legs I kick my way towards her. I hold her by the waist and pull her up, dragging her to the surface. Please, Jeanne… I feel a light grasp on my side. I’m taking you out.

As we reach the top she starts coughing, her body quivering, a hand over the mouth and holding me confusedly by the chest. How much water did she swallow? She looks mortified as I’ve never seen her before. I’m just relieved she’s safe. When I saw her down there… It was the most terrifying yet sublime vision I’ve ever seen. I push my hair out of my face, catching my breath, and hold her steadily by the waist.

“What the fuck, mate?” I hear Niall yelling. Jeanne winces and buries her face in the crook of my neck. “How the fuck do you dare to treat my guest like that?” With the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of everyone gathered around the pool, looking at the water in awe.

“It was just fun, man,” the guy retorts. My blood boils through my veins, and I hold her even tighter.

“Fun, you loser?–––Niall continues to berate him. She was ignoring you, so you decided to have ‘fun’ with her?” Jeff contains him. Otherwise he’d up his throat. Erica approaches the edge of the pool, crouching down visibly worried.

“Is she fine?–––She whispers at me. Does she need something?”

“You could have killed her, jackass,” Niall is still freaking out in the back. A chill runs down my spine, and I sense Jeanne clinging to me, her whole body tensing against mine. I stroke her back to calm her down. “Now leave… You aren’t welcomed here anymore. And consider yourself lucky I don’t call the cops.”

“She’s a bit in shock,” I tell Erica as quietly as I can. All this is just making Jeanne more nervous. “Could people give her a bit of space?” I realise I haven’t spoken on her behalf without sense of entitlement until now. Like, this is the first time I really speak for her.

“Of course.” Erica nods and straightens up, starting to disperse the curious crowd. Jeanne reluctantly glances up. She looks sad, embarrassed, empty… She looks in a way that is so new to me, a way that moves and scares me to the core.

“I’m sorry…–––I manage to murmur, almost lost for words. I saw everything and thought you needed help…” For some reason I feel the need to explain myself.

“I’m not a mermaid,” she murmurs. She never sounded more serious. I look her in the eyes and she holds my gaze. Our legs brush under the water, as we keep moving them to stay afloat.

“Do you want to get out?” I get nervous, but manage not to flick my gaze to her lips. I notice some freckles on her nose. I didn’t know she could get sun freckles. Jeanne doesn’t say a word and just looks straight at me for what feels like an eternity.

“I love the water,” she finally breaks the silence. I nod quite a few times. Calm seems to have rejoined her heart. I run my hands around her waist to hold her more firmly. For a second I go weak. My senses remember this touch; soft, slippery fabric. Skin grazes further, the lukewarm water creating the most overwhelming friction.

“Does it hurt?” I avert my gaze, taking my hand to feel the back of her head. After this madness this is not what I need, but I can’t stop either. I need her closer. I move my fingers through her wet hair and her body relaxes on mine.

“No…” She bats her lashes. There’s nothing wrong with the action itself, except for the fact that it sensuously transports me back to the first time we were like this; the bath we took together in the antique tub of her attic. So it might look innocent, but the back of my mind is a completely different place. I shouldn’t be doing this. This is not sexual. Jeanne’s lips part as if she were about to speak again, but she says nothing. Without a word she slides her arms from my chest to around my neck. I should say something but I can’t think of anything. I can’t be like these guys, preying upon her for my own gratification. I’m not like them…

Her abdomen presses against mine, and my mind goes wild. If her eyes were to close I would barely be able to refrain myself from kissing her. But she doesn't move. She just keeps staring at me. Who is this woman that has captured both my body and my imagination? Who is this woman that is at the same time tempting as the deepest abyss and vulnerable as a feather? Who is Jeanne Mars?

–.–.–

Notes

This chapter was such a roller coaster. But it was about time for Harry to start questioning the image he has of Jeanne. Is this the turning point for this story? Do you think Harry still needs a little bit of extra help? Who's the person with the biggest chance of giving him this help and how? Stay tuned!

Next chapter: London calling!

I want to thank everyone who's reading and sometimes voting and subscribing. Your support helps me a lot when I put this story into written words. I'm doing my best to go back to a more regular schedule of updating, and you make the difference. Hope you enjoyed this one. Love you all <3