Dahlia's whole life is flipped upside down when her eccentric aunt enrolls her in a prestigious university in England. She is forced to make friends with a rather eclectic group of people and adapt to her new lifestyle all while trying to find the a...
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Harry Styles
There is a certain expertise that is needed in order to shut off an alarm before the person sleeping next to you wakes up, so, possessing that honed skill, I silenced the monotonous quacking of my alarm without disturbing Dahlia on the morning of the highly anticipated 'Louvre Day'- which is what I was calling it in my head. It was highly anticipated on her end, only in theory, because she knew that we'd go to the Louvre at some point during the trip, but she didn't know exactly when, but it was highly anticipated on my end because, I, of course knew when we'd go, and I also knew that if any part of the trip could ensure that she wouldn't regret deciding to let me take her to Paris, it would be Louvre Day.
While I was getting ready for the day- ordering breakfast through room service, taking a shower, getting dressed, and brushing my teeth and hair- I couldn't stop thinking back on dinner last night, specifically the marriage talk, and especially, the overwhelming fear I felt when I thought, even for a second, that I had taken the discussion too far. Everything was alright in the end- with her telling me that she's all in, too- but she originally backtracked on the conversation, and there was a moment in which the blank expression she wore was traded for a glint of panic, like she held so much doubt in her head.
I didn't regret saying anything I said though, despite the fear, because I'd been trying to find a way to tell her how I felt about her without saying those specific, weighty three words, so I thought that telling her the truth- that I was seriously considering marrying her- would undoubtedly get the point across. And, telling her that I really, really, really like her made me wonder how many times I could add 'really' as a prefix to the word 'like' before I'd just tell her I love her.
My train of thought was derailed by a series of knocks at the door, and I froze, my hand poised to spray on my cologne as I looked to my right, through the bathroom doorway to make sure that Dahlia hadn't been waken up by the sound. She didn't stir at all, so I quickly sprayed the cologne, set the bottle on the vanity, and walked out of the bathroom, into the bedroom and around the foot of the bed to get to the entryway, where I answered the door to accept the silver tray that held the food from room service. I thanked the woman who delivered the tray and then brought it upstairs, placing it on the coffee table and then bringing the plates on it outside to set the table on the terrace. I'd ordered an assortment of food- croissants and pastries, a bowl of berries, orange juice, a pot of coffee because I couldn't quite figure out how to operate the coffee maker on the mini bar, and some creamer and various sweeteners for the coffee as well as an ice bucket in case she wanted an iced coffee instead of hot.
Once I'd set up breakfast and determined that I was ready for the day, I decided that it was time to wake up Dahlia because there was about an hour and a half until the Louvre opened, and I figured that was a sufficient amount of time for her to get ready and for us to get there. I walked back downstairs, into the bedroom, and around to the left side of the bed, peering down at Dahlia, who was laying on her left side, her right arm stretched out over the vacant spot where I previously laid. Reaching out my right hand, I pushed her hair away from her face.
