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Dreaming Of You // If I'm Still Dreaming

'Fixation is not polite'

Harry’s POV

I can’t get enough of your love, baby…

I turn around as the line of the song Jeanne was dancing to last night flashes into my memory. I grunt, grabbing a pillow and pulling it to my face. Why can’t I stop thinking about it? I’ve been awoken for ten minutes and I’m just hearing it in my mind over and over. This is absurd… It’s even worse than a song from ‘Up All Night’… I don’t know how we made it with that album, to be honest.

Whatever I do, I’m thinking of you…

I throw the pillow aside, starting to crawl into bed. I grab my phone from the nightstand. Of course I would oversleep, as I arrived home at dawn. I wanted to leave as soon as Jeanne left but the party would have murdered me. I didn’t drink too much though, and I could have gone to the beach to watch her, but for some reason I imagined she wouldn’t be there, so I came home and fell into bed, a hand to my lips.

I shake my head as I drop my phone by my side. I know it wasn’t a proper kiss… It wasn’t. It was an accident. It was just an accident caused by Ashton. He saw us talking to each other and got the brilliant idea of pushing her… He dared to push Jeanne for her to fall over me. What did he think he was doing? Helping me? Because if I was a mess before she arrived, then after all that happened I’m feeling ten times more confused. She saw me kissing Debbie, and even if I told her there’s nothing going on between us, I can’t help but wonder… She acted as if she hadn’t seen anything, and she didn’t grow cold. On the contrary, she was just her normal self. So was it my mind or were we actually flirting before Ashton meddled in? I know her normal self involves a lot of flirtation, but was she flirting with me? It’s like I can’t even remember properly… Those moments before her lips brushed the corner of my mouth are pretty blurry, and the next thing I know is this fire rushing through me and my hands on her, and her eyes in mine, and as it returns to me my stomach lurches and I can’t stay still. I bend over and cover my face with my hands. It was nothing… It was really nothing, but I am almost bursting with feels. Her eyes… For a second she seemed in panic. I just see it now as I replay it in my mind. It must have been the shock, as a moment later she was smiling and laughing as if nothing had happened. But to me it happened, both curse and blessing.

I fall back against the mattress, my hands running through my face. Everything is so different now. Jeanne is not a woman you can tease with as Ashton did. She’s a mum… She’s not by herself any longer. There’s this little, wonderful life depending on her, and I’m sure it means a great deal for her. She must have become even more selective than before. What do I know about single mums? I know it wasn’t easy for my mum to remake her life after she and dad got divorced. Luckily she met an amazing guy who takes care of her, and makes her happy, but it took her years to date again, and she always put our well being first. I have to slow down this… Not my feelings, because I can’t slow them down, but things. I can control things too. It's not that difficult. What happened yesterday can’t start to happen randomly. I don’t want to disrespect her. I don’t want her to get the wrong idea of me or think I’m a horny twenty-something who can’t handle himself, as she might be already supposing after what she witnessed with Debbie. This is not about a conquest anymore, or about getting into anybody’s knickers. God, I don’t even know where I’m going…

Thinking with my cock I would have grabbed her and kissed her right there and then, in spite of the potentially disastrous consequences, because I was going insane to feel her… It’s almost as if I made it happen with the force of my will, as desperate as I was to find an excuse to touch her… and it just happened, all at once; her smooth, full lips against me, her scent numbing my reason, the soft skin of the underside of her forearms sliding beneath my fingertips all the way down to her wrists… A chill runs up my spine. I won’t deny she flusters me as hell, that I’ve never felt with anyone what I felt with her, and that I’ve been silently longing for her all these years, and not so silently too. But if I think with my head the result comes out all different. Why would I expose myself again to a woman who already rejected me, and who has a daughter? She didn’t love me… I shouldn’t even be thinking about this. It’s nonsense… But then, there’s my heart, this heart that she broke but that somehow needs her. I don’t know why, I don’t know what for, but my heart just needs to have her near, maybe to be able to heal, maybe to be able to get the feeling back. I don’t know, and I don’t care… But I can’t allow myself to obsess over her, because fixation is not polite; it’s sneaky, and she had been nothing but honest with me, and I should return her honesty. So the beach must be over, and I have to tell her what I’ve been doing. If someone is meant to understand this situation, then this is Jeanne, because she knows how much I loved her and the mess her sudden presence in my life means. She would never make fun of me. She never made fun of me, even at a time when making fun of me was an international pastime.

I get off the bed and grab my laptop. Last night after she left I was worried so I checked on those rumours Jeff mentioned. No one is accusing Jeanne of plagiarism, but the synaesthetic genius is in the limelight. It can’t be on purpose… I think Jeff is going way too far there, and Monday’s meeting must be some sort of attempt of damage control. I type the url of the site on the browser. This is not the first time I return, although not to read. It ended for me with Jeanne. There is barely any traffic compared to what it used to be. I shake my head. One Direction has been long gone. Only the most devoted fans keep writing about us, though it means people still remember.

I log in and go to my messages. As the last time I’ve been around I start to read our chat. We were in Porto with WWA Tour in my last messages, and I was trying to make her admit she was missing me. I was always trying to make her admit things… How naïve. She might have had feelings for me, but not as many as I needed. I pull two fingers to my lower lip and pinch it to prevent it from trembling. I shouldn’t get so emotional this time, because she’s back. She’s back but I still can’t have her… I let out a giggle as I read the silly things I said. How could she bear me? I was missing her so badly… I have been missing her all my life, even when I didn’t know it was her whom I was missing.

A tear warms up the corner of my eye, so I take my hand to dry it before it falls down. I almost forgot what I came to do here. Yes, to check on her stories. I click on her username to go to her profile. My heart narrows inside my chest. All is gone… all her stories and even the few sentences about her. Only her username remains. She took them all down, even ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’…. They were here the last time I checked, almost two years ago… Was it really necessary? I mean, ‘I Wish’ is the issue, not the others. I can’t help but wonder if she went through some kind of hesitation before doing so, because even if they weren’t the core of her research she enjoyed herself writing them. Then I realise what it means… Her stories don’t exist anymore… No one would ever read them again, at least not as my Fan Fictions. Why does it feel as if I had suddenly lost a part of me? The muffled buzz of my iPhone somewhere beneath the duvet makes me jump. I quickly find it but as I glance at the screen my heart sinks to my feet. This is the last thing I need right now, but I know I have to answer.

“Hi, mum,” I try to speak normally but I just manage to mutter, as I leave my laptop aside.

“Don’t ‘hi, mum’ me, Harry…” She scolds me. Fuck, she’s mad. She makes me feel like a bad little boy all over again when she uses this tone with me. Its effectiveness is guaranteed. “We spoke every day of this week and yet I’m still the last person to know that you’ll be starring a film written by non other than Jeanne…–––she sounds astonished. And you spent all these years without telling me how you actually meet her, and I had to learn from your sister, Harry, because you were, what? Scared? Of your mother?” God, she’s super pissed. I can’t blame her. The Gemma’s move was quite low.

“It never came up, mum,” I mumble after a brief pause, rubbing my forehead. Choose your words wisely, Harold, because each one of them is the difference between life and death; you know that pretty well. “At some point I couldn’t talk about her anymore… And it’s even much more complicated than what Gemma told you.”

“More complicated?” Mum ironises.

“Yes, more complicated,” I insist. Gemma doesn’t know about Clevedon Pier. I didn’t get that far. And why does she meddle in now? I thought she was fine with me being reserved about this. She didn’t ask for years. To come clean was mandatory at this point, and that’s why I turned to Gemma to do the dirty job, but if Jeanne weren’t around I would probably have never brought the issue back. “I know I’m your son, but please, don’t take it personally–––I complain. How I met Jeanne is nobody’s business…” As soon as I finish to speak I deeply regret it. That didn’t sound right at all. Things are not going as planned.

“Watch your attitude, young Mister…” She mutters, but inside she’s raging. I know her. I already lost this argument.

“I’m sure you keep plenty of things away from me…” I shrug. A sudden silence confuses me, so I watch the screen to check if the call is still on.

“Just tell me if you read Fan Fiction,” mum mumbles after a second.

“I did–––I state. I can’t really explain why… I suppose I was curious, I wanted to know the fans better…” I try to be cautious. Those years and my fame are a delicate subject for her.

“Do you know what some Fan Fictions said about you, Harry?” She lets out, startling me. I can’t help but pull my iPhone away. “Some are despicable… Like that one…–––her voice trembles. I can’t remember the name, but I had nightmares over you being associated with such behaviours.” I wonder which one she is referring to.

“I’m aware–––I speak sternly–––but I was learning not to take things too seriously. And not all were despicable…–––I explain, reminding the things I heard on Jeanne’s defence. Many of them used me as an excuse to talk about their dreams and their hopes. I am grateful that they did…” And with that I earn another silence.

“But many of them helped to build the image of this womaniser, air-headed boy that had nothing to do with my son…” I roll my eyes. She has never got over it.

“I was out there, mum, exposed to millions–––I practically groan, gesturing to the side. It would have happened anyway… But Jeanne wasn’t like this, and that’s why I fell in love with her stories, because she saw this other guy…” My tone changes dramatically as I need her to get this right. “She made me dream of being someone better for myself…”

“I know… I know she did–––mum whinges, sounding quite hurt. I know Jeanne wasn’t like this. She…–––she hesitates. I… I read her novel.”

“What?” I scrunch my face, surprised.

“I read her novel in my book club–––she says, unsure–––months ago. I didn’t know she was Jane Darcy… I loved it, and I can’t believe you are playing Sam because he’s the most sensitive, clever, adorable boy…” Her voice cracks. “And he made me think of you so many times… So I couldn’t believe it when Gemma told me… that he is based upon you…” She talks between sudden sobs. My heart bounces violently. “Do you know what it means, Harry?”

“Mum, what’s happening?” I quickly ask, shaking my head, as I hear her crying.

“It means that she…” She carries on, ignoring me.

“What’s going on, mum?” I cut her off. For some reason I became extremely anxious. “Is something wrong at home?” She sounds so distressed…

“No, baby–––mum moans, recomposing herself enough to speak. I’m just… impressed that she got so far without using you…” How could she get so emotional over this? Maybe it’s the menopause. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” She dries her tears away.

“Because I didn’t want you to worry…” Well, it’s a bit more complicated than just that. I hear she deeply breathes in.

“Did you meet her already?”

“I did,” I assert, tightly griping my brow. Here comes the other part. God, this conversation…

“And what happened?” It’s exhausting…

“Nothing happened–––I say, trying to play things down. I just want to focus on the film…”

“But you loved her, Harry,” mum complains, as if it were impossible for me not to blow everything out of proportion. “And so much…”

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” I manage not to grumble but I sound pretty frustrated. They were all expecting the same. “Do you think I’ll obsess over her again?––I inquire harshly. Do you too think I’m weak?”

“Love is not about weakness, Harry–––she talks down to me, sounding absolutely different from a moment ago. It’s a force you can’t control, even if you want to… You can fight it, but what is meant to be is meant to be, no matter what you do.”

“She has a daughter…” I mutter so quietly for a moment I doubt she has heard me at all.

“What? A daughter…?” I couldn’t tell Gemma. Now she’ll get mad at me too.

“A two-year-old daughter with some German guy,” I speak absentmindedly, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

“She’s a mother…”

“This is the main reason why my relationship with Jeanne is strictly professional now,” I state. I don’t know if she’s listening to me anymore, but I hope I can fool her, because I need to stop having these conversations.

–.–.–

Notes

Oh, Harry! You were so close, but you just prevented yourself from learning the truth!

You could have read the chapter in ten minutes, but I needed hours to think what circumstances could have kept Harry in the ignorance and telling his mother about Lara himself... So, I'm sorry, my dears, but not quite yet! Let's keep building this! Don't relax for the next chapter ;)

If I managed to get you a little curious about the song Jeanne was dancing to and Harry was replaying in his head, and you really want to get the point of the scene, then check it out here: Chyp-Notic - I Can't Get Enough. 90's Europe's summer hits were the best! Who's with me??? You know I like to bring unconventional things, as there's too much cliché already, and this one comes directly from the most amazing aunt ever, mine :)

Thank you all so much for the reading, votes, comments and everything. Your feedback helps me a lot to try my best for this story, so don't be shy and let me know your mind. Love you all <3

Comments

miss you a lot friend,
message me sometime if you have the chance ❤️

cococranberry cococranberry
3/13/19

You promised you would never make us wait for an update that long again... *cries*

JasperRenee JasperRenee
7/3/18

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

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



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