Dreaming Of You // If I'm Still Dreaming

Harry’s POV

A kiss… What’s in a kiss? What is it about tongues wrapped around each other? How can something objectively weird make us crave so much? How does even the idea of a kiss have such an effect on us? These were exactly my thoughts while standing at Jeanne’s door, as I struggled to get ready to see her again. I’ll never be ready, for every time she’s in front of me the same emotional storm I felt in Paris unleashes into my heart.

“I brought something for Lara to play–––I managed to say when she finally opened the door, as I manoeuvred behind my back with difficulty. Is she home?” Jeanne crinkled her nose, confused.

“You’re early,” she stated, amused, looking beautiful and casual in those blue denim, skinny dungarees and a grey T-shirt, her hair more dishevelled than ever. Well, that was exactly my idea. “We’re in the garden, but I thought…”

“Perfect,” I claimed, passing her side and holding the tiny piglet in front of her. Jeanne couldn’t refrain a squeal of excitement, throwing her hands to her cheeks, as I looked at her lightly biting my lower lip to prevent myself from smiling too much. Yeah, there’s a girl hiding somewhere inside all-mighty Venus. Jeff was so right about it he’s my new guru. My brief explanation on how the piggy arrived to my hands wasn’t even necessary. If you bring a baby miniature pig you can do pretty much whatever you want, even facing your friend whom you almost kissed a few days ago without the awkwardness… [A/N: Sorry, no kiss… But he brought a piggy!]

On our way to the garden Jeanne stroked the wrestling piglet, as I held him tightly against my chest. I wasn’t sure about releasing him inside the house. He could break something and I didn’t want to get in trouble because of him. I reckoned it’d be thoughtful if I asked in what language I had to speak to Lara. I can communicate in French now, so it made all the sense. To my surprise Jeanne told me I should speak English. I slightly shook my head. Until then I hadn’t considered for how long she was planning to stay around, so I tried to inquire further, but when I insisted she just shrugged, as if it was the obvious thing to do. Well, I can’t deny it sort of is. They’re living here and before they were in another Anglo-Saxon country. Learning English could easily mean either England or the US, but even neither of them, as a lot of people around the world speak English for no particular reason.

As we passed the dinner area a chill ran down my spine. I couldn’t help but replay our film date on Wednesday. I must have blushed, as I felt the heat all over, but thankfully Jeanne was walking ahead of me, so she didn’t notice it. I’m not proud. Cuddling is not a blank cheque, but it was all so fast… Only when I sensed her breath on my lips I realised what I was doing, my abdomen tightened, my heart racing out of control. The memory is almost painful. Her breath… Her warm breath I have relived in so many lucid dreams… It was there… Panting, I slowly opened my eyes to find hers, shimmering in the dark, and I had to bite my lower lip in order to stop. Her surprise was even bigger than mine, but she knew what was happening, though she stayed still. She just stayed still… I quickly regained my posture and cleared my throat, trying to act normal, though inside I was aching, and almost dying of feels and shame. God, I’m an idiot. Why do I push things so much? I could have ruined everything… I was a bit tipsy and high on her calling me Mouth, but I told her to be friends to prevent things like this from happening. Why can’t I control myself when I’m around her?

Luckily I soon forgot my worries, as the scene I found when I stepped my foot outside was the incarnation of domestic bliss. Miss Meier and Lara were lounging in the afternoon sun with light-coloured dresses, reddish hair to the breeze, next to some plant pots where Jeanne was working. Lara’s emotion when she saw me appear with the piglet simply made me melt. Children are the most sacred creatures on earth. She squealed, screamed and shook her hands, throwing her little arms up to try to grab him. Miss Meier flashed me a rather disapproving look. I’m sure she’s not older than my mum, but there’s something in her air that makes her fairly intimidating, and she calls me Herr Styles. I quickly crouched down holding the piggy in front of Lara while her mum explained over my shoulder that he was a living creature, so she needed to be extra careful with him. Miss Meier just shook her head, probably picturing herself running behind the little beast all afternoon like a rustic. I was ready to show her how wrong she was.

I lay on the ground facing down, as Lara started to play with the piglet, though I kept stealing glances at Jeanne from time to time. She had sat down on her spot and continued to work on her garden of chive, basil, oregano, and parsley, not paying too much attention to us and pushing her hair aside with the back of her hand. Miss Meier supervised us from behind a magazine, repeating some German names every now and then. The piggy was running around the grass while Lara chased him. When they were about to get too far it was enough for me to roll over and stretch my arms to prevent them from getting out of reach. They were making the cutest noises. To hear her laugh of joy felt good to the heart, almost making me forget she’s Jeanne’s daughter with another man.

When Jeanne finished her gardening she stood above me, gazing down. There were stains of soil all over her face, and I couldn’t help but glance at her stupefied. What does she do to me? No matter how she looks every time I look at her I fall to pieces… The piggy took advantage of the situation and ran away, so I had to chase him. Laughing Jeanne asked me if it was OK for her to take a shower before we began to read the screenplay, and she just killed me. I know it was the normal thing to do, but from then I tried in vain to push the idea of her nakedness away. I should have listened to the voice of my conscience when it told me I needed to avoid looking up at her window at all cost. Because even if in the end I didn’t catch a glimpse of her naked body at some point while I was lying sideways with Lara showing me a little wildflower, the piggy captured between the two of us, with the corner of my eye I saw Jeanne leaving the sill of the window wrapped in a light robe. How long had she been there? Something stirred in my stomach, and the memory of all the times I have done it myself, just to look at her without her awareness, flashed altogether in my mind… My heart dared to feel something it hadn’t felt in a long time. I turned to gaze at Lara.

“Maybe your mummy wants me…” I murmured, and she just looked at me and pushed her little hand to my cheek, starting to call for her ‘maman.’ A smile cracked up on my face. They resemble so much.

It was only that, a feeling, a warm feeling that made me a little nervous, so I fought not to get my hopes up. Rushing things is what I wanted to avoid, as there’s no point in doing so. The gesture of the window could mean nothing, and maybe I was just dreaming it up, but right there and then it felt impossibly real.

Before Jeanne returned Miss Meier told me in perfect English it was time for Lara’s afternoon snack. I asked her what would be more appropriate and, according to her judgement, it was better to take the piglet away. I quickly called Pat and asked him to come and pick him up. We didn’t want Lara to get upset, so we managed to distract her throughout the process, but she was already too excited and there was a chance that she wouldn't eat at all. She’s quite a fussy eater. For sure she didn’t get that from her mum. When I came back to the kitchen Miss Meier was technically defeated, her hand down holding a spoon. I didn’t want to be responsible for Lara skipping a meal, so I offered myself to give it a go. Miss Meier shot me a doubtful look, but I guess she had nothing to lose. After I washed my hands I traded places with her and sat in front of Lara, trying to feed her a spoonful like I’ve done before with other children, as I have a vast experience on the matter even if it sounds weird, though she just dodged me.

“Come on, Lara–––I told her calmly. Eat at least one…” I glimpsed with the corner of my eyes and caught a sight of Miss Meier chuckling at me. My heart knew Jeanne would learn about all this. “Don’t make me look bad…” I pleaded. Lara shook her head. She wasn’t cooperating. “‘Ich bin fünfundzwanzig Jahre alt’…” I said in German. I basically know numbers, but maybe the authority effect would work. I approached the spoon one more time and she rejected it.

“Non, non, non, non…” Lara repeated, bending over. The way she was shaking her head from side to side made a bit of an impression on me. I didn’t want her to get hurt.

“Lara Antipova!” I claimed not too loudly, immediately gaining her attention. I wondered if someone had called her like that before. “You have a very lovely name… Do you know where it comes from?” Lara looked at me, puzzled. “No?” I asked dramatically. She gazed at me with an increasing interest, stopping her compulsiveness. “Do you want me to tell you?–––I spoke steadily, loading a spoonful of yogurt. A long, long time ago, in a very cold, distant land, there was a girl called Lara…” I said, discreetly moving the spoon towards her, as her jaw was hanging open, her eyes fixed on mine. “She was clever and spirited and free…” I carried on, holding her gaze, and she just ate. I inwardly cheered up. I didn’t want to distract her. “But a bad guy took advantage of her curiosity towards the world…” I slowly started to repeat the process. “She didn’t regret it because she had a strong mind, but she escaped him marrying an innocent and idealistic guy who went mad and ended up abandoning her and their daughter…” Lara took a second spoonful, and I smiled, making a brief pause to rejoice in my success. “In the middle of the Civil War she met the love of her life, her soul mate…” Then I remembered I was speaking about Zhivago, and my heart narrowed inside my chest. Maybe it is because Jeanne said I reminded her of him in her story or because of the time when I read those paragraphs at her attic in Paris, but I’ve always felt close to him. “Though as most of true lovers they weren’t lucky at all so life tore them apart…” Lara just stayed still, as hypnotised, so I fed her a third spoonful. “She gave up on her love to save his life, but he never knew, and he loved her until the end of times because she had become a part of him, a half of his heart, and her memory was like the air for him to breathe… He’s still loving her right now…” I finished to tell my story and sighed, realising there still was a bit of yogurt at the bottom of the container, but when I tried to feed her again Lara began to whimper.

Before I could comfort her Jeanne entered the kitchen wearing nothing but denim shorts and a semi-sheer, loose blouse, her hair all wet. Was she planning to murder me? Because I could have died right there, as my heart nearly stopped beating. God, her lean, statuesque thighs and her bum… My mind grunted in frustration. Why didn’t she arrive five minutes earlier, when Lara was happily having her snack? Now she’d think I’m not good with children… Jeanne walked directly to us, so I confusedly stood up from the stool. She flashed me an unreadable glance as she untied Lara from her highchair, bringing her to her chest. At the contact Lara calmed down, lazily rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands. Holding her against me Jeanne led one hand to my forehead, brushing my hair aside, and placed a light kiss on my cheek, startling me to the core… But I beamed, and couldn’t do other than think I could do this everyday.

–.–.–

Notes

He finally got his kiss, and maybe it was better than he expected :) You know this story. Good things take time ;D Round of applauses to Harry's self-control!

I'm sorry it took me so long to update. It wasn't because of the votes and I didn't purposely wanted to leave you hanging off the cliff. I needed to take a break from writing to put my mind in place, and I just couldn't update before being sure I could carry on with this story. It seems it paid off, as I wrote a chapter I'm absolutely in love with––not this one because I'm posting pre-written chapters, though I love this one a lot too, as it finally sets the parallel between 'Doctor Zhivago' and Harry and Jeanne's story. It has been there all along. If you were wondering what was all that about, now you know :) Thank you so much for reading and for your patience. I'm sorry if you wanted a proper kiss on the lips. You know it's too soon! When I said Harry was going to struggle to get the girl, I really meant it! This is not one of those stories! I'll update soon. Let me know your mind. It helps a lot. Love you all! <3