Dreamer (Larry Stylinson) - EN

Chapter 8 ~ My Demon

People, noise, chaos, in one word – airport. We could fly in the high-class on the board of the newest giant airplane, buy a ticket and comfortably get in, but no. That's not Styles' style. Why do something simple, when you can do it elaborately...

Because here Mister Styles needs a plane of his own, which, by the way, must be transported to here over the whole London. We are looking for and wandering, more like I am looking for. Harry is following me everywhere while phoning and eating his lunch.

When we are finally aboard and I'm fastening the seat belt carefully, thoughts like 'what the hell am I doing here' are attacking my mind. What if this is all just a dream, I will wake up in a while to a beautiful world, where everyone loves everyone and is peace? Okay, I should forget my naive imaginations and come back to the cruel reality. I don't want to change it though, it's too interesting.

I can feel the plane take off and slowly floating through the white clouds to the blue sky. When I was young, I was picturing this plenty of times. How could it be?

In the second the pressures are balanced, the sound of my name fills the room. I don't waste my time, walk across the private jet with beige leather coated seats right to my boss.

„Bring me something to drink." he tells me while rummaging through papers. His hair is falling into the green eyes so his long fingers run through it.

„Water?" I ask and Harry rises his glance giving me his 'You can't be serious' look.

„Champagne," he says after a while realising I did, indeed, mean it.

Private jets have one huge disadvantage. They change personal assistants into personal stewardess. After carying champagne, food, pillows and other things I seriously think about adding some pills to his drink again. They do have mirracle effects. The though mister Styles becomes little kitten Hareh, who doesn't remember what was he doing or at least doesn't talk about it to avoid awkward conversation.

„Tomlinson!" He yells again and I sigh deeply, annoyed bringing my ass over to His Majesty.

„What do you wish?"

„How is your hand doing?" His emerald eyes find my wrist covered in a bandage. The doctor told me that I don't need a gypsum, I merely need to take some medicine and cool it and suprisingly it did help. It shocked me he did not ask me what did I do, if I was a doctor, it would be my first question.

„It almost doesn't hurt anymore."

„Very well, that means you can carry all of my bags," he says while reading in his papers again. Harry is a walking definiton of the word 'workoholism'.
I nod altough he could hardly see it. I don't know what did I expect from this trip to Paris, but I can clearly forget something like conversation on a higher than working level. Or not?

~~~~

„Do you have any plans for evening?" Harry asks me while supporting his head with one hand and staring at the night Paris slowly falling into darkness, so the bright lights can be switched on.

„It already is evening, but when you ask, I was planning to go look around the city." I answer while unpacking Harry's luggage and placing his clothes to a wardrobe. I never thought one person could own so many shirts.

„Do you know Paris?" He asks not looking away of the window.

„No, actually. This is my first time here. Do you?" I reply trying to have a conversation.

To my surprise, there appears a little grin on his face. „Yes, you could tell I do. I think you would be surprised knowing how many things does the night Paris hide." He looks at me amused. „I can show you."

~~~~

When leaving the hotel, the whole city is dark. In the moonlight I can see Harry's silhouette, waiting for a car to arrive. His inked chest is revealed thanks to his half-unbuttoned shirt and the brown hair is irradiated so it looks like he had a halo. How can someone look so much like an angel and be in fact such an eerie demon?

My demon though.

„Are you nervous?" his hoarse voice breaks the silence.

„No." I answer half-sincerely, I always get nervous in his presence.

„I would be. You are in a foreign city with practically a stranger, who wants to guide you god knows where."

„I trust you." My pale blue eyes meet his emerald green amused ones.

„How did I deserve that?" he leans in and grabs my wrist, it's not crude but also not so gentle like the last time. He is frightening. Only inches, no, centimetres are separating the two of us and I can feel his warm breath giving me goose bumps. „Why do you trust me?" he grabs my other wrist so we face one another now. I can brightly remember his hateful glare, when we were standing like this in the salon, but this time, there is no anger in the green infinity. He is confused and I realise I know why. He always tries to stay ice-cold, like the most freezed crystals of ice, and untill now, he was doing very well. But I know, that he can be so much different, I've experienced it, that's why I still believe he can change back and all of this is happening for a reason. That's why I haven't abandoned him yet – my naive imagination of 'destined love' which is not letting me stop believing. It sounds crazy, but that's what it is.

A noise of arriving car saves me from answering. Harry gets in without hesitating. I would open the door for him if he just waited...

~~~~

The black luxury limuzine stops in front of a bar from which echoes very loud music. There is a long queue by the door ending somewhere behind the corner of the street. I feel like in a film with teenagers.

Harry's not wating for anything and confidentaly walks straight to the entrance. Several hateful glares stub me through when I follow him, shivering nervously.
„Just for your information, tonight you are free," he whispers into my ear.

„Tonight I'm again the personal part of the personal assistant?" I ask smirking, I had to say that. Harry wants to reply, but eventually just swallows his words.
The closer to the bar we are, the weirder I feel. Harry's getting through the crowd with me following him, looking around. There are red tapestries on the walls and on the sides there stand red leather couches. I notice a dark curtain in one corner, altough I don't know where does it lead, something is definitely happening behind it.

Most people in the club are males leaning on one another and I also have this strange feeling that someone touched my bum.

„Are we in a gay club?" I shout so Harry can hear me. Instead of an answer he merely chuckles.

We finally reach the counter and Harry orders something for both me and him. So far, I feel like this night is gonna be unforgetable.

If I only knew, it will be much more than that...

 Next chapter is really "interesting". I swear you will like it (or I hope so) :D

Sweethears, I need some comments and votes:)

Sabi