Soon, My Friend (Currently Editing)

An awkward conversation

I tried to maintain a normalcy. While Harry and the boys opened their mini tour in Europe and attended press conferences, I finished the last morning shift in the pub and shopped for dinner.

The extreme things he did - waving from a hotel balcony to a few hundreds of fans who had turned up to catch a glimpse of One Direction. And the daily life I had - cooking vegan burgers in a pan, drinking beer and watch football along with June and Ian or any other of my friends.

An acoustic version of Perfect Day by Lou Reed played in the flat as June and I ate dinner the next day. Later she went to Ian's and I sat left on the sofa to breathe. I just had to breathe. Just breathe a little.

Then I got up and walked into my bedroom. Damn, how messy it was in here. Clothing on the floor, bags that still weren't emptied, dirty laundry... But most of all papers and dirty cups.

I had moved away the tracks of the night Harry had been here, but during the last two days I'd spent a lot of my time in my room, snuggling up to the t-shirt he had left me before he went away. It smelled of him. Sweet and fresh - like apple and cinnamon tea or dried apricots.

Shit, I had to pack my suitcase.

Tomorrow's the day? Yes. Tomorrow's the day.

It came so suddenly. I had tried to read a little about Paris, 'cause the last time I was there I was 6 years old. I hardly recalled a thing, just that there were a lot of people, a whole different culture and that very few spoke understandable English. If they at all were able to speak any English, I mean.

I had just showered, my hair was wrapped in a towel and I had enclosed my body into the new gown Harry had sent me.

It had appeared in a package at the pub earlier today. Inside of it I found a note saying: You may want to tattoo this gown in a miniature size, in Harry's handwriting.

I talked with mum on the phone who was so stoked about the trip. She suggested a lot of things we could do during the stay and a lot of things we could see.

I constantly had to remind her of three things:
1. It was not up to me what we we're going to do.
2. Harry and the whole crew of his couldn't move wherever they pleased without planning every step or without leaving spontaneously. Anything to attract least people, mostly.
3. M-mum? I, well, I think they've already seen Notre Dame. Probably.

"..but then Gilly went mental, I say mental!She met this chap and before she knew it, she was on a motorcycle with him, driving down Champs Elysée, y'know. At that time he was a total stranger, but then she found out he was this cool popular French model. Well, she didn't find out that until later, of course... No, wait, I think they actually dated for a few years..!"

Mum told me everything about her memories of past holidays in Paris during the 70's, but I couldn't really keep up with her. So much was going through my head - I was stressed and anxious about tomorrow - I simply struggled to think clearly.

Harry had been caught on camera the night before along with a gorgeous brunette in a dress I could only dream about. He was actually supposed to call me at that time, but it never happened. He had partied a lot, especially when they were in Stockholm. It may have been something in the context of Niall getting dumped by this girl he had been seeing for a while, but that was not exactly the first thing I asked about when I talked with Harry.

"Well, either Harry's a good friend, or he just simply looks for a good reason to get shitfaced," June had defended him when we earlier on had studied the fan-taken photos together.

Several photos were swarming on June's Instagram - one in which that brunette had her hand on Harry's chest and for some reason licked his cheek..? And Harry looked so pleased, that kind of smirk I just thought he offered me. His arm tightly on her waist, kissing her temple in another photo...

Of course this happened. My God, Harry was hot and he had a famous face. That was how it was. I couldn't expect him to only pose for pictures pictures with rainbows and children.

It was just that smile he wore in those photos...

Now, June said that I had to pull myself together. It was me he flew down to Paris. And she was right. But what can reasonable words do, when your thoughts already have transformed into integrated feelings in your chest?

Harry called me about eleven o'clock when I had packed my bags, sitting on my bed as I finished up putting bright nail polish on my toes and fingers.

"I've seen pictures of you with shades on. Like.. women's shades." I teased him after we had been talking for a while.

"Oh, yeah? You worried?" he teased back.

"Not really." I murmured and let out a sigh I didn't know I had been holding back.

He didn't understand the joke in the way I wanted him to, didn't respond the way I expected.

"You OK?" he asked me. I let my tongue slip around on the insides of my cheeks before answering. He did sound concerned.

"I'm totally fine! A-a bit stressed out about tomorrow and I have a few bills to take care of tonight, but I'm fine, y'know." I replied.

"Yeah... I miss you!" he said suddenly.

"You do?" I asked and smiled at myself in the mirror on the wall in front of me.

"Yeah. I just.. I just walked on my own down the hotel corridor and whistled to myself and then I whistled out of tune and I looked to my right to look at you - to see if you laughed at me. But then you were not there, of course. And that made me miss you. A lot."

Somehow I knew he was walking back and forth in his hotel room to act out this whistling-scene as he told about it.

I breathed deeply, slightly trembling. I didn't expect I would.

"So... What did that lady in the golden dress do, then, why didn't you bring her?" I heard myself spit. I gulped.

"What?" he said with in a high-pitched voice.

"Yeah, that.. Bond-girl with the beautiful dark hair." I continued. When I first mentioned her I was surprised by myself - like, why was I so stupid..?

But now as it occurred to me that it took a long time for him to reply, his answer interested me.

"I ca- I cannot remember any brunette in a golden dress..?" he eventually stammered.

"No? Oh, that's even better." I teased and laid down on the bed.

He hesitated and said: "Well, y'know, lately we've been going out more than usual. But we're done with it now! I dunno, it was just to cheer Niall up a bit and Zayn - "

"Harry, it's OK, I'm being a twat."

"..and when I go to bed I've sort of gotten used to the feeling of falling asleep immediately because I black out, like... Otherwise, I get sad 'cause you're not there with me, y'know. It just feels better to fall asleep at once without getting the chance to miss you by my side."

I smirked: "'K... Okay, I'm so sorry."

"No, don't be. I'm such a fool." he sighed in despair.

"You're fuckin' not. I'm overexposing this. That's all."

Oooooh, how awkward. This is an awkward conversation.

"Don't worry. I'm sorry you got to know the way you did, we're idiots. Just.. don't read whatever you bump into, come to me if there's anythin'. Yeah?"

"Yeah, sure. OK. Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow? Ah, it's feels so good to be able to finally say that..." I admitted and smiled.

"It feels so good to, like, finally hear it. So, yeah. OK?"

"Uh-huh. OK."