Of course I was in love with Jeanne. I mean, maybe I was obsessing too, but no doubt I was in love with her, and I didn’t really know what I was missing from her the most. For some reason, Liam’s words were exactly what I needed. Since then I got to relax a bit, and I was actually doing better. The idea of my mum and sister arriving to keep me company had a lot to do with it, but mainly it was the fact that he spoke that voice inside of me, the voice I used to hear until it suddenly shut up once I left Paris. She had admitted to have feelings for me, and I was so sure about them. How could she shiver this way between my arms and not be in love with me?

Why did they doubt me then? Did Liam and Jeanne think I am a fool who doesn’t know his own feelings? Yes, they could both be older than me, and pretty earnest, but they shouldn’t doubt me. God, that was so frustrating… I was sort of obsessing, but that longing I was feeling… It was just love. It couldn’t be plain obsession. I was missing her in a way I had never missed anybody before. I missed her delicious body, her warm kisses, the silky feel of her skin, but mostly I was missing her smile and her voice, to watch her sleep, simple things as her breath and touch… God, I didn’t even know if I would see her again… I knew Liam was giving me the benefit of doubt on the matter, but what about Jeanne? We never mentioned the issue again after the Opera.

The same day of her arrival my mum began to round me suspiciously. I hadn’t mentioned Jeanne and I knew she was growing increasingly curious. Should I tell her what was going on? My first impulse once I left Paris was to tell her everything, but then somehow I understood what Liam said to me about mums being pretty heavy. What if my mum would gain a predisposition against Jeanne by our situation? I didn’t want that. In my heart I was hoping things could change between Jeanne and me. Jeanne would come around. I was in love with her, and by Liam’s logic she had to be in love with me too.

In other circumstances I’d tell her everything, but in this case I didn’t really know what to explain. Knowing how persistent my mother can be, it would have been a surprise if she’d given up. Right after the show I heard a knock on the door of my room that took me out from my usual thoughts. We were leaving to Philadelphia the next day in the morning. Philadelphia… My mother’s head appeared after a second. I knew she wasn’t going to drop it so easily.

“Harry, get ready, because you are taking your mum for a drink,” she told me hurriedly, and before I had the chance to react, she turned around and left.

I couldn’t manage to say a word, and not accompanying her would have been ungentlemanly on my part if that was what she wanted. I never had a drink with my mother before and her proposition was somehow tempting, as an adults’ thing. I just needed to be sure to control my booze, in the case I got some as I was still underage in the US. To get drunk in front of my mother would be rather improper and unforgivable. I couldn’t help but wonder how she got Paul’s permission. Well, she was my mother after all.

“What do I serve you?” Asked the waitress.

“A pint of Foster’s for me and if we were in our country–––my mum spoke in her thickest Mancunian accent–––this young man would be having…” She interrupted herself to let me speak.

“A Vodka Martini, but I’d be OK with just cranberries’ juice, thank you,” I told her. The girl suggestively winked an eye at me and I froze. She must have known who I was, but I hate it when people flirt with me while my family is around. I wished it meant she was going to bring me my booze. My mum had opened her eyes in sign of surprise.

“Vodka Martini… My son is becoming a sophisticated man–––she teased me. May I ask you for how long have you been drinking Vodka Martini?” I raised an eyebrow at her question. Since that pub in Paris would be the righteous answer.

“About two months…” I muttered, looking down and playing with my finger on the table.

“I like Jeanne…” She startled me, but she was speaking as if it was nothing of importance.

“What are you talking about, Mum?” My cheeks felt completely blushed.

“Are you going to deny it has something to do with her?” She inquired.

“No,” I mumbled, glancing away and lightly shaking my head.

“So that, then. I like Jeanne–––she sentenced. But why do I have the feeling you’ve been trying to avoid the topic since I arrived?”

“Because you are my mum…” I admitted. The presence of the waitress distracted us from our conversation for a moment. I nodded my head at her when I noticed my drink was effectively transparent. ‘Now drink it cautiously,’ I said to myself, taking a short sip.

“Is something happening, son?” Mum asked coming to hold my hand, an alarmed expression crawling across her face.

“No, nothing, Mummy,” I told her, leaving my glass on the table, but she didn’t seem to believe me. Mum tilted her head left exactly the same way she did when I was little. Oh, well, I’ve never been able to hide anything from her. I sighed. “I sort of asked her to be my girlfriend and she said no…” I couldn’t help but glimpse at our hands, resting together in front of me.

“Oh…” She wasn’t expecting that.

“I thought she was going to say yes–––I claimed, glancing away. But it seems she doesn’t care so much about me as I care about her… I’m not good enough for Jeanne…”

“Harry, how could you say something like that?–––mum blurted. Where is your self-confidence?” She made a pause to watch me closely. Suddenly, something shimmered on her eyes. “Harry… You are in love with her…”

“Mum…” I mumbled, instinctively turning away from her.

“Why don’t you want to have this conversation with me?–––she claimed. You’ve been avoiding it since Jay’s wedding… I know what I told you then, but I didn’t know it was already happening…” There was something strange in her voice, between emotion and surprise.

“I’m sorry, Mum. This moment…” I felt my eyes burning.

“Harry, I realise you are very affected by this… You say she said no… You can tell me; I’m your mother,” she murmured once she noticed my reaction.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Mum…–––I led my hand to my head. I’m afraid of everything. I’ve never felt this way.”

“Oh, Harry…” Mum muttered, bending over the table and reaching out for my cheek.

“I can’t help it–––I blurted, looking into space. I can't stop thinking about her and I miss her so much. I can’t keep her away. She’s everywhere…”

“Be careful, son…” Mum mused slowly, seemingly regretting it later. I bounced on my chair.

“Be careful of what, Mum?” I watched her on what seemed to be an internal debate between explaining herself and shutting up for good, and a nausea sensation surged my insides.

“You might be in love with Jeanne, son, but be careful not to obsess about her–––mum warned me. Nothing is less attractive than an obsessed man, even being beautiful as you are.” Her words stabbed me right into the heart. I contorted on my seat, turning my head away, uncomfortable. “Harry, Harry; look at me–––she said softly. If it’s meant to be, you’ll find the way…” She told me, smiling lovingly. Why were they all doubting me?

–.–.–

Early next morning we took our flight to Philadelphia, and installed ourselves in the hotel. I couldn’t help but feel a bit distressed. Jeanne could have been there… I could have been able to see her. She was lacking me terribly. I felt like almost in some sort of withdrawal. How could she not write me a single word to ask me at least how I was doing? She knew I left Paris being such a mess… Maybe she was checking me in social media, but she must have known I always have to put on a happy face there, but the pictures don’t necessarily speak the truth.

As we had the day off I was able to rest a bit. In the afternoon my mum, Gemma and I were going to have some coffee with Cal and Pat. Niall wanted to do some shopping, and the rest of the boys were either chilling or at the gym. The street was cleared so we left the hotel altogether. Once outside, Niall and Paddy took their way and we did the same, walking almost too peacefully to the coffee shop. Less than ten minutes after we parted from Niall’s side I felt my iPhone ringing on my pocket. I reached out for it. It was Niall. How strange?

“Harry, where are you?” He talked, sounding quite nervous.

“Niall, I just left you…” I cheekily complained on the phone, making a gesture to my mum and sister to slow down their pace.

“Yeah, I know that–––he carried on in irony. But how far did you get?”

“About two streets… Why?”

“Come back,” he snapped.

“Niall, we are not going to come back–––I ventured. I asked you if you wanted to come with us and you said no.” I heard he was speaking to someone away from his mobile, and for some reason I got worried. “Is something happening, Niall? Are you getting mobbed?” I blurted. At my words everyone around me stopped on his track. “Do I have to call Paul?”

“No, Harry, no. Just come back–––Niall claimed. You have to come back. I’m two streets away from the hotel and I think I found something that… in a way… belongs to you…” He spoke hesitantly. I grinned. It was just Niall being Niall. I made a gesture with my hand for everybody to quieten down.

“What are you talking about, Niall?–––I asked, amused. If I wasn’t even there, how could I drop something?”

“Jeanne…” At her name my heart just skipped a beat.

“What?” I spat out, making everyone look at me one more time, but now in some sort of alarm.

“There’s a photograph of a woman in a poster. It’s an art gallery–––he explained. Paddy and I think it might be Jeanne…” I felt my whole body being surged by such a rush.

“Jeanne?” I almost shouted. Mum and Gemma glanced at each other. “As in my Jeanne?”

“Yes, Harry! Jeanne!” He exclaimed. I threw my head back, palming my forehead. For a second I thought I was going to faint. “I’m not sure though–––he meditated. I don’t know how she looks naked…” Naked?

“Naked?” I snapped. Now everybody was looking at me for sure. “I’m on my way,” I said, turning around and starting to walk hurriedly towards the hotel. I didn’t even care if somebody was following me. “Don’t look at her,” I warned Niall.

“I won’t, I promise,” he said, but he sounded as if he was chuckling. Damned Niall.

Once I reached the corner of the street I noticed Pat was walking by my side. I turned my head around and he made a gesture to explain mum and Gemma were a bit behind with Cal. I rushed one more street, listening to Niall talking confusedly with Paddy.

“OK, I’m in front of the hotel–––I claimed. Where do I go from here?”

“One street down to the opposite direction, and then turn right,” Niall explained. I almost began to run. Anxiety was getting the best of me.

“What is it?” I asked for some clarification.

“It’s some sort of art exhibition,” Niall muttered. I heard Paddy’s voice on the back. “Actually it’s an opening…” As we had already walked the two streets I began to look around nervously amidst the passer-by people to spot him. A familiar blond hair a bit farther ahead caught my attention.

“I think I see you,” I said. A hand raised on the crowd. I rushed there.

“I’m right here–––he giggled. Not staring at her boobies…”

“Niall!” I snapped, slapping his shoulder the instant I got by his side. We pulled our phones down simultaneously.

“Sorry, pal… It was a joke,” he patted my elbow. I was absolutely out of breath. Niall grabbed my arm and made me turn around towards a building. We walked one step further. I slowly raised my gaze to the showcase. “So, is this Jeanne?”

–.–.–

Notes

I don’t know how she looks naked... xD

So, is it Jeanne? You know me ;)

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