Wanderlust

Waking up in Paris sounds like a beautiful concept. Being woken by the warm sun against your cheeks and the sounds of light traffic twelves stories down; that is what I imagined.
Instead, I was awoken to the shrill ringing of my phone alerting me that not only was it five-thirty in the morning, but it was also time to get up. There was no sun to warm my cheeks because it was yet to rise and the traffic below was nothing close to comforting.

My alarm had only sounded for several seconds before my door was pushed open, revealing a very well put together Kara Young holding a very large cup of coffee.

"Rise and shine, superstar! We're out of here in thirty."

She left in a flash of movement after having set down the cup on a table by the door, knowing well enough that I wouldn't be able to resist it enough to stay in bed.

I rose out from the red and white sheets, stretching all my joints before starting the day with coffee and a shower.

The previous night's sleep hadn't been a very good one, my thoughts admittedly laying with the conversation I had shared with Kara beforehand. I had locked myself away rather early into the evening, hearing Kara still making calls in the room next door for several hours before she herself went to bed, yet I stayed awake just thinking and thinking until my mind had exhausted itself into rest.

Mid-shower, as I was rinsing out layers of conditioner from my previously assaulted hair, Kara knocked loudly on the bathroom door announcing I best hurry if we weren't to be late, and so I quickly finished up and dried off. I threw on a pair of jogging pants and a cropped t-shirt, knowing as soon as we arrived on set for the second photo I would be re-dressed into something more attractive.

"Kara, I'm ready!" I called, throwing my phone and purse into my bag while also trying my best to towel dry my damp hair.

I slid myself into a pair of orange and white Supras - a pair of shoes I had bought under the heavy influence of one Niall Horan - and gathered both my bag and a hoodie for later on.

I listened for Kara's reply but found the suite silent. "Kara?"

I ventured out into the main room of the large suite and discovered it empty, my manager no where to be found. My initial thought was 'great, she's left without me,' until I heard the sound of the front door closing from my right and her figure entering the room.

"Thank God, I thought you'd left already." I laughed, turning to meet her.

Imagine my surprise when, instead of a tall, blonde haired woman, I was met with a mop of curly brown hair atop the grinning face of Harry Styles.

Shamefully enough at the site of Harry standing at my hotel doorway, in Paris, at six in the morning, I let out a rather loud curse in what was a rather sensible fright.

"Surprise!" He shouted, as though I hadn't just nearly wet myself. His face was absolutely beaming, his arms spread out in display.

I was speechless, my mouth still open in complete shock as we stared at each other from across the room.

And then, as several very silent seconds passed by and my heart rate lowered, I smiled as well. Not only did I smile, I laughed.

"What are you doing here?" I asked what was the most obvious question.

I was obviously happy to see the adorable Brit, but what on Earth was he doing in Paris?

"I'm surprising you!" He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He walked towards me, his arms still spread out, and I took the hint.

I wrapped my arms around his neck with a laugh, feeling his own arms encase my bare waist as a warmth spread over me.

"Hope it's alright I tag along today." He murmured, spinning us around quickly before letting me go.

"Of course, yeah." I breathed, still smiling up at him.

His hair was incredibly untidy, curls flying more up than they were down. He had on his usually tight jeans and a navy blue knit sweater which accentuated how broad his shoulders were. I actually had to stop myself from staring.

"Oh!"

We both spun to find Kara exiting her bedroom, her brows high up at the site of Harry.

"What a nice surprise!" She exclaimed. "Shall we get going?"

What occurred to me the most in that moment was that it didn't seem like a surprise at all to my manager. I attempted to make some serious eye contact with her but all I got in return was a smile and a wink, to which I could only smile back at.



Seated on a bench in the middle of the ever enchantingly beautiful Jardin du Luxembourg park of Paris, I averted my attention to a particular tree while the shutters of the camera before me snapped away. The baby blue dress atop my frame jostled only slightly in the midday wind.

The park around me was amazing, full of large green foliage and incredible fountains flowing to the brim. Large stone statues of Greek and French mythological women stood tall all around amidst the flowers and pebbled pathways. All of this was for my viewing and yet I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering to the boy on the sidelines.

My feelings for him had somehow strengthened by just seeing him standing silently with his hands in his jean pockets, his eyes trained on me while I had my picture taken over and over. As I carefully looked over at him once more, we shared a small grin between us, my stomach twisting happily at the sight of his smile.

"Okay, I think we're done!"

I looked over to see the photographer, Jamison Lange, had stood from his crouched position with a smile on his ageing face. He removed his camera from its stand and handed it off to the younger man beside him.

"Fantastic working with you, Lucy." He said in parting, shaking my hand as I stood from the park bench.

I thanked him repeatedly and said goodbye, having him quickly replaced by Kara as she typed away at her smartphone.

"Okay, just an interview left and you're done."

I nodded, adjusting the white jumper hanging over my shoulders.

"Oh, and you can keep the outfit." She said quickly before walking away to the sound of her phone ringing in her hands.

The smile on my face could not have been bigger, especially when Harry appeared at my side offering me his arm for us to walk back to the edge of the park where a car would take us back to the hotel.

"Finished?" He asked hopefully, looking down at me with those large green orbs.

"Not yet. Just an interview to go." I reassured, watching all the bright flowers around us in awe as we passed the Fontaine Médicis where I had been seated earlier.

"You said your mum used to bring you and Gemma here?" I asked, watching the gleam in his eyes brighten.

"Yeah, when we were kids. We'd go to the Eiffel Tower first and then go over the bridge to this shop that sold these macaroons that Gem really loved." He smiled at the memory.

"Wow," I breathed, envious as ever. "Must have been amazing."

He nodded, looking down to meet my gaze. "Did you ever go about with your parents?"

I thought about it only briefly, "Not particularly. We used to go to Queensland a lot when I was a baby, but then my father's firm started getting bigger and my mum opened her salon. I've only ever gone on trips with William and Kara for work."

Harry didn't look too pleased with my response and I could understand why. My parents were extremely busy people, but I could never blame them for that. I had turned out exactly the same.

"That's a shame; maybe you should have them visit London."

I nodded absently and smiled, "you'd probably meet them, then."

My hopes were to frighten Harry with my words but he hardly seemed phased, only returning my smile and gazing around the opening of the park as we reached the street. "I wouldn't mind."



I watched distantly as Kara spoke with the journalist I had just been interviewed by. They were exchanging details of when the issue would be released as well as numbers and such.

The interview had been held in Kara and I's suite, lasting just over an hour and wrapping up quite nicely if I say so myself.

Geneva Wilde of UK Vogue had asked me questions so casually that it hardly felt like an interview at all. While most of what we discussed was about my resurfacing music career, she also asked me about my wardrobe, my new house and my family back home.

I waved goodbye as the short woman exited the suite with her equipment in hand, looking at Kara for the conformation I had been waiting for all day.

"Yes, Lucy, you are finished. You may now do whatever you want."

I smiled and sighed out a very dramatic breath of relief. "Thank heavens!"

Kara laughed and informed me that she was going to make some more calls from her room before we had to check out at four. I nodded and watched her go before beelining it for my own room.

Harry had been advised by a very stern Kara that for the interview he should stay behind the closed door of my room. "We'd just be asking for trouble." She had said.

Of course, he didn't mind. Ever the gentleman, Harry didn't make a peep while Geneva was present, isolating himself as though he weren't even there.

Upon reopening my bedroom's door, it became clear why.

Sprawled out to each corner of the large four poster bed was a fast asleep Harry Styles.

His previously untidy hair was now a complete mess against the red and white sheets and his sweater had been discarded to leave him in a plain white t-shirt. Oddly enough, his boots were still on.

"Harry," I whispered delicately, almost tempted enough to leave him be.

He stirred only slightly, breathing in deeply.

"Haz, I'm all done."

I climbed up into the bed and shook him softly by his shoulder. His heavily lidded eyes just barely opened and gazed up at me, confused for a second before he shot right up to lean on his elbows.

"I fell asleep? What time is it?" He asked, his deep voice now even deeper as he words fell out slowly.

I laughed, "Looks that way. It's only two, do you want to keep sleeping?"

"No, no, I'm up."

He scrambled to the side of the bed and shook his head so that his hair whipped to the side.

I watched in amusement as he attempted to stretch out all his joints while also shoving his mess of curls through his sweater.

"I'm up." He breathed in a huff, adjusting his clothing that had twisted in his sleep.

"Good." I laughed, "because we have the rest of the day free!"

I jumped down from the bed and grabbed my own jumper, the white one from the photo shoot, and shoved it over my head, knowing that now the afternoon was creeping forward the temperature was sure to drop.

"Okay, so what shall we do?" I asked, pacing around the room gathering my phone and bag, "We could go to the tower or that shop you mentioned or we could go back to Jardin du Luxembourg... My flight isn't until seven, which means..." I paused.

It suddenly occurred to me that Harry and I hadn't arrived in Paris together.

"Is your flight tonight?" I asked quickly, stopping my actions to glance over at him as he watched me.

He shook his head, "no, I drove."

I halted completely at his words, "you drove? All this way? You must be exhausted! Go back to sleep, please, I can't imagine--"

"Lucy, I'm fine." He smiled, distracting me with his dimples as he so often did. "I want to walk around with you, have a bite to eat, yeah?"

I pursed my lips, "only if you're sure..." I said slowly.

"Absolutely positive." He assured, walking over to me only to steer me toward the door and out of the room. "I know exactly where we should go."

We called out to Kara that we were leaving, hearing a muffled reply in return, and headed out of the suite. When I asked what he had planned for us in the elevator, Harry merely said "you'll love it" before the doors reopened and we were presented with the hotel lobby.

The streets were fairly busy for a Friday afternoon, various pedestrians walking briskly by without a second glance to the two teenagers exiting the large Hotel le Bristol. I looked to Harry for direction and he confirmed that we would be staying on foot.

"If we go this way," he began, leading us away from the hotel's front doors, "we can cut through Champs-Elysées."

I hadn't the slightest clue what that was, but it turned out to be a very crowded street accompanied by an enormous park. We had been walking only five minutes before we were on a large stretch of road surrounded by a mass of green trees and large open grasses. Flowers decorated the edges of my vision as we strolled through it casually, falling into the crowd that was around to admire the sight just as we were.

We continued across until we were passing what Harry mentioned was the Grand Palais, as well as the Palais De La Découverte. I was struggling to decide whether I was more enchanted by the buildings themselves, or the way Harry was pronouncing their names.

It wasn't long before we had exited all the beauty that was Avenue des Champs-Elysées, and were back on the footpath headed towards a river.

"How does tea sound?" Harry had asked me, guiding me by the waist as we crossed the road.

"Sounds fantastic." I confirmed, jumping quickly out of the way of a cyclist zooming past.

Harry's large hand reached for mine as he lead us through an intersection before we were atop a bridge crossing the water below.

His hand dropped mine all too soon and we were back to walking side by side. I suddenly felt rather awkward about it and found it best to just cross my arms. The boy beside me appeared clueless, as he usually was when it came to my overworking mind, and continued on with a small smile painted in his sun kissed face.

I didn't have all too long to worry about anything, however, because soon enough before my very eyes was the enormous tower Paris was so famous for. It was still a good distance away, but even from where we stood I was amazed. I was reminded very quickly of the time Harry had shown me the most impressive sections of London, back when we had first met. Walking around large cities seemed to be a favoured past time for him and I was quickly understanding why.

Although we had managed to walk so far without even a glance our way, I was now beginning to notice the usual stares from amidst the crowd around us; the look that was questioning whether it really was the person you thought it to be.

Harry noticed too, and so he gestured for us to quicken our pace toward the large tower. It wasn't a very long walk, only up a long stretch of road before we were coming closer and closer to the monument. With every step I was more and more excited until finally, we were there.

We were right next to the Eiffel Tower, shadowed by its mass and in awe of its structure. I finally let out the words I had been thinking ever since we crossed the bridge.

"Oh my God."

Harry and I's heads were tilted up toward the sky, paused in our walk as we admired the view before us.

"This is amazing! I can't believe you brought me here!"

I had seen the tower from a distance a handful of time during my trip thus far, but it was nothing like standing right before it.

Harry didn't reply with any words, merely looked down at me with an appreciative grin transfixed on his face. We both began walking again, though our gazes still held strong onto the attraction beside us.

It turned out that we didn't have to look away at all before Harry announced that we were at our final destination; a tiny little café entitled Le Beaujolais. It sat right on the edge with a magnificent view of the Eiffel Tower, its inside decorated with small lights and vinery around the walls.

"You sit," Harry told me, touching my waist again, "I'll order for us."

I agreed happily and chose to sit at a small table that was both secluded as well as in good viewing range of the large base of the tower outside. I quickly took out my phone and captured a picture of the café's window, uploading it to my twitter with the caption 'Paris' lasting impression.'

Harry returned shortly and sat across from me, placing down two steaming mugs of black tea as well as a small jug of milk. I barely even registered the objects on the table, my eyes too busy on the boy in front of me. He caught my gaze with a laugh and asked me what I was staring at as he settled into his chair.

"Nothing," I assured, feeling a warmth spread to my cheeks, "I'm just so happy. Thanks for coming here, to France, I mean."

Harry's eyes were trained on me rather intensely, his mouth turned upward and his dimples growing deeper. "It's okay," he chuckled, straightening up. "I love it here, and hanging out with you."

The heat in my cheeks seemed only to double as he leant his elbows onto the table.

"You know I really like you, Luce. I'm always happy when I'm with you. And when your cheeks go red," he smirked while I knew my face was increasingly catching fire, "I think I like you even more."

I tried to laugh away my embarrassment, bringing my hands to my face and covering my blazing cheeks.

Harry laughed at my actions, reaching across to remove one of my hands and hold it in his against the table.

"I want everyone to know how much I like you, Lucy." He said slowly, his deep voice quite for only me to hear.

I could feel my lips tightening in the suppression to smile too largely, Harry's own smile making it incredibly difficult.

"So, I'd like for you to be my girlfriend."

I couldn't help but stay silent for a moment. My insides were going absolutely crazy while my outside stayed frozen. Everything I had ever worried about when it came to the boy before me was suddenly diminished because all of my previous concerns were irrelevant.

I began to notice that Harry's face was falling because I hadn't replied and so I was quick to refocus.

"Of course, Harry." I said like it was obvious, tightening my hand in his, "I'd love to be."

His face lit up again before he stood from his chair and stepped around to kneel down beside my own, bringing his hands to my face and letting his lips meet my own. I didn't hesitate to react, placing my hands over his and kissing back with so much happiness I felt I could burst.

We parted with bated breaths, staring at each other like the cheerful teenagers we were before Harry resumed his seat and took a casual sip of his tea.

I could only laugh, for just about the thousandth time that day, and bring my own drink to my lips.

We sat in Le Beaujolais for roughly half an hour, sharing small grins from across the table over cups of hot tea. It wasn't long before we had to leave. We thanked the café's owner who had very subtly avoided seating other patrons near us and made our way back toward the large tower outside.

I barely even glanced at the beautiful structure, too aware now of the boy at my side that I could officially call my own.

His hand reached down absently and grasped mine, intertwining our fingers and this time not letting go for a second.