As God brought her to life… It was Jeanne radiantly naked, standing with her hips flicked to the side, an arm down holding a minimal drape against her pubis, and the other one pulled up in a forceful gesture. What was that all about? Well, who cared? My brain wasn’t even able to fully process it, so my body took over. She was just so beautiful and pale, her hair up in braids… I felt my lower belly beginning to ache, to crave for her. I had been repressing it for days but all the longing returned to me at once.

“So, is it her?” Niall insisted, shaking my arm in anxiousness. I was hardly capable of taking my eyes off of her image to glimpse at him. He had seen her naked… What a tormenting thought. I glanced at Pat and Paddy, a bit away from us. They were giggling at each other. Of course Pat would recognise her.

“Yes…” I mumbled, defeated. Niall bounced by my side, excited, moving to grab Paddy’s arm.

“I knew it!” He chanted. I took back my eyes to the picture in front of me, mainly white, Jeanne’s body almost fusing with the background. God, her breasts. So soft. I half shut my eyes, feeling transported to their touch.

“What is going on, Harry?” I heard my mum’s flustered voice speaking.

“Anne, you can’t miss this!” Niall said in his beaming tone. I snapped out from my mind and turned around in panic to prevent my mum from approaching the showcase and seeing Jeanne naked in that strange attitude. Too late.

“Isn’t it Jeanne?” Mum muttered in awe, recognising her from the photo I showed her. A potent rush of heat surged me in a second. I saw Gemma getting closer with a confused look in her eyes.

“God, she’s bloody gorgeous, Harry,” my sister blurted. I was still a bit in shock but I couldn’t help but smile broadly. What an introduction… Never in my life could I have imagined such a surreal situation. “What is this, Harry?” She looked at me inquiringly. If I only knew… I led my gaze to the poster to search for some sort of clarification.

At the top I was able to read the name of the exhibition. ‘Goddess Mars.’ I didn’t fully get it, but for sure she was a goddess. I imagined it had something to do with wordplay. I glanced at the bottom and my heart bounced violently inside my chest. Antonie Dieudonné-Peyrard. It could only be him… Jeanne’s ex boyfriend. But what kind of name was that? It was so ridiculous. Anyway, I started to get nervous, as their story was quite old, but this picture seemed recent. It definitely was Jeanne from when I met her in Paris, not Jeanne from five years ago.

So I just couldn’t control the curiosity. I needed an explanation. Did she work with him after they broke up? Were they still friends or, at least, in good terms? I hadn’t thought of that possibility at all. She was so reticent to talk about him. Was she still in love with him? At the idea my mind hurt, and without saying a single word I walked myself inside the place. It was an opening after all. My presence would not seem odd, as it was full of people. Artsy people, of course. Hipster people…

Once I got inside I noticed everybody had rushed in behind me. Curiosity was getting the best of them too. I gritted my teeth, annoyed. Why couldn’t I just have a bit of privacy to face my own issues? I guess I could have asked them to leave, but what was the point? I started to glance around, searching for some answer. The hipsters didn’t even acknowledged my presence, speaking at each other with their thick-framed glasses and their little beards. I decided to ignore them too, and soon I realised the large white walls were covered in Jeanne’s pictures. I moved to one of them and sighed. God, she was so fucking hot…

I hadn’t figured out the concept of the exhibition yet, but I was obviously staring at every detail of the image in front of me. White floor, white infinite background, Jeanne standing in the middle in an attitude I couldn’t decipher, full of strength, almost aggressive, arousing in the most hidden way. The posture her body assumed, so forceful yet so graceful. Jeanne in all her potential… I glanced at my crotch. No, I couldn’t just have a hard-on right there and then. But I was missing her so badly. That body. What that body did to mine. I was sensually transported to her side again. How could I prevent it? I knew every nook and cranny of her delicious body, the feel of every single muscle, of her smooth, silky skin. My mind was about to explode.

At one moment I noticed a nervous presence by my side. I had forgotten about my mum, Gemma and the rest of my entourage. They must have been dispersed amongst the hipsters, peeping at Jeanne’s nudeness. Niall cleared his throat to get my attention. I glimpsed at him. He had his hands together on his front, looking down in a frankly fair attitude.

“Harry–––he murmured. She is posing as god Mars…” He explained. Then I got it. Mars was her surname, as the Roman god of war. Damn, it suited her. “In some pictures over there–––he pointed with his head–––there’s another girl with her, posing as Venus…” My ears burnt, and I jumped around. But there were so many people in the room I couldn’t spot what he was referring to. I hoped my mum didn’t get to see those. I knew there was nothing wrong or pornographic about them, but I just didn’t want her to see Jeanne that way. Things were already bad enough. “I’m sorry, mate, but I’m getting hard,” Niall mumbled, approaching his head discreetly. I glanced down to his hands. Of course he was covering himself. My mind grunted. “It’s weird because she’s supposed to be a male, but this is just too much–––he complained softly. I know I shouldn’t be admitting this because you are a…” Niall interrupted himself with a playful look. ‘Possessive arse… Just say it, mate,’ I thought. He was right. I was about to punch him in the face. As if seeing her naked wasn’t awful enough. I could never take those images from his mind. “I’m going to refresh myself,” he told me, and turned around hurriedly, leaving my side to get to the loo. God, Niall.

So that was all about. Jeanne was posing as a man. Everything was so freaking confusing… Yes, of course; once I knew it her gesture and attitude made absolute sense, the posture of her hips, legs, and arms. She seemed as another person with that glare, but she was still so violently sensuous. I was so mad about her I would have given anything to have her right in front of me in flesh and bone, to be able to steadily brush the palm of my hand from that angelic pubis up to her collarbone. Thoughts as those weren’t going to prevent my arousal. To be devouring her inch by inch with my stare wasn’t very helpful either.

“So this is Jeanne–––I heard Gemma’s voice on my back, and instinctively bounced. Interesting…” She carried on, coming to stand next to me, her hands pulled behind her. There were both of us glancing at a full frontal of the woman I was in love with. How mad was that?

“Gemma, this is so surreal–––I muttered. I hadn’t planned for you to meet her this way.”

“Well, this is who she is, isn’t it?–––Gemma ventured. This is what she does, so it’s not surprising at all… I find far stranger that three people from deepest England had gotten here in the first place–––she mused in an amused tone. So don’t complain about surreal, because lately our life has been pretty surreal too…” We glimpsed at each other, snickering a bit.

“And mum?” I asked, worried. Gemma was young and care free, and she could overlook it, but mum was another world.

“Don’t worry about mum–––she claimed. What is she going to say? Jeanne has her career, and very good one as she is the muse of this entire exhibition.” For some reason her words made me shift in my spot, uneasy. “She can’t complain. I bet she’s having a great time with Cal at the buffet…” Gemma chuckled.

“God…” I whinged, rolling my eyes.

“Harry, mum is who she is–––Gemma patted my chest. She’s a normal person who enjoys buffet tables. It’s not a sin. Sometimes you become a bit…–––she said, sounding somehow annoyed. You are still from the shire, Harry… Just another guy.”I glanced down. Luckily I had my sister to constantly remind me of it.

“I know,” I mumbled, turning blue. I didn’t speak the rest though. The fact that I was miles away from who Jeanne is was too painful to put it into words. But in that moment a tall figure at some distance caught my attention. I was so sure about it. It was him, Antoine himself. Of course he was going to be there. It was his opening. Then I understood everything. He was the reason she was travelling to Philadelphia, to be there with him… I trembled, distressed.

"What's going on, Harry?” Gemma questioned me as she noticed my reaction.

“That guy…–––I said, staring at him, growing increasingly angry. He’s Jeanne’s ex.” My sister looked at his direction. I don’t know if she realised that even if we didn’t resemble feature by feature we definitely shared complexion and a certain air.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to talk to him,” I stated, taking a step towards him. He was greeting some people. Gemma shook her head ‘no.’ “Take mum away from here.”

“Harry, don’t…” She mumbled.

I resolutely left her side, making my way up to where he was. I stood in front of him in silence, crossing my arms, and looked at him insistently to obtain his acknowledgement. We were about the same height, and he definitely was the perfect French hipster, from the chinos to the waistcoat. His hair was messy but not as curly as mine though, and he seemed older. Well, he was older for a fact, and I was way cuter. The two persons talking to him turned to look at me, and discreetly left.

“Are you Antoine?” I asked, hoping the guy could speak English.

“Yes, I am, and you are?” OK, he did, but his voice sounded awful. He held out his hand to me. I knew I couldn’t hesitate just now, so I decidedly reached for it and shook it tightly, glancing straight into his eyes.

“Harry Styles,” I spoke. His grip wasn’t as hard as mine.

“I believe we aren’t acquainted. Enchanté,” he smiled. My stomach churned. Freaking French charmer… I couldn’t tell what Jeanne had seen in him. “Have I sold you some of my work before?” He asked with a little smile.

“No, I’m here for Jeanne,” I cut him short. His eyes widened.

“Jeanne Mars ?” His voice transformed completely, sounding far more deep, and with a hint of something I was unable to discern, but that dangerously resembled amusement.

“Yes; is there any other Jeanne?” I groaned.

“Not to you, apparently,” he goofily giggled, acting innocent.

“Don’t pick on me, mate–––I warned him, coming closer to his face. What did you do to her?” Jeanne never mentioned a word about it, but I always had the feeling that he hurt her.

“Hasn’t she told you?” He teased me. I shook my head ‘no.’ Fuck. From the beginning I knew he was going to make me feel as a dick. I should have listened to my sister. But then… “Well, why don’t you ask her? She’s right there…”

–.–.–

Notes

She’s right there…

Well, not only it is Jeanne, but she's back before than we expected. It was a possibility. You know me, now expect anything ;) Protagonists aren't meant to be perfect.

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