Fix a Heart [h.s.]

Chapter Nine

Here's where things get interesting haha ;)

KAELIN’S POV:

Harry does show me Paris. Well, he tries. Neither of us knows where we’re going so we end up wandering around aimlessly for three days. We manage to see some real beautiful landmarks though like Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower. We shop a lot and take hundreds of pictures, several of which Harry is doing something strange like smiling insanely or licking my face. He’s such a freak but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

                It’s our fourth day in Paris now and we have absolutely no itinerary. Tomorrow Anna and my mom have planned for us to tour some museums but for now, we’re on our own. We’re walking from a late lunch when Harry stops in front of me and squats down a little, facing me with his back.

                “Jump on!” He tells me, waiting. I get a good grip on his strong shoulders before hoisting myself up and wrapping my legs around him. He begins walking casually.

                I giggle, “People probably think we’re strange.”

                “Just giving my girl a piggyback,” he says coolly. I grin and kiss his cheek. At the next corner he sets me down and we cross the street. Once we make it across he jumps on my back and I struggle to carry him a little ways down the sidewalk. It’s twice as hard as it should be because I’m laughing so hard. He quickly hops off and settles for holding my hand instead.

                “So I figure we’ll go...” I try to configure the French map I’m holding, “here,” I point to what I believe to be an art gallery. “Or maybe...” I switch it around a few times but honestly I don’t even know which way is north. Harry looks just as confused as I am. I shrug and shove it back into my purse.

                Harry’s face lights up, “Why don’t we just hop in a cab and ask them to get us there.” I eye him suspiciously, wondering why he’s so excited. That’s when I look to my side and see the bike taxi with the little carriage on the back. The driver is a young, skinny boy even younger than we are.

                I shake my head, “no way Harry, we’ll kill the poor boy.”

                “Pretty please baby?” he asks, giving me a big, hopeful smile.

                I sigh, unable to say no to that face. “Fine, let’s go.” He kisses my nose the way I usually do to him before we climb into the carriage. The poor kid starts peddling and I must admit it’s kind of fun. Eventually, when he’s exhausted, we tell him that we’re far enough and walk the rest of the way.

                The art museum isn’t great. As it turns out being quiet is something Harry and I do not do well together. We get yelled at in French by a few people before we decide it is better we leave. It’s good anyway because we’re hungry again. It’s nearly six o’clock. We stop at a small restaurant and have a lovely dinner. I try a few new foods; some are delicious and some are a little too strange for me. Once we finish, it’s about eight o’clock and we decide to head back.

We’re walking back to the hotel when it happens again; I get hit with a raindrop. In no time it’s pouring through the city. Harry and I start to run, hitting puddles and running into people along the way. It seems to take forever to finally make it back to the hotel. We rush inside the lobby, probably looking like two drowned rats.

                We take the stairs up to our room. I don’t know why but we’re in a hurry, eagerly waiting to be alone. When we reach our room, there’s a note taped to the door. It’s from my mom.