69 | Sailor

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June 2nd


Diana De Angelais

Harry and I had spent the past two weeks in Paris, and I was having the most fun I had ever had in my entire life.

He had rented out an apartment for us to stay in, it was right next to the Eiffel tower, so the little time we actually spent at the apartment, I would always sit on the balcony and watch the lights.

Every single day consisted of us waking up horribly early, where Harry would literally have to pull me out of bed by my ankles to force me to get up. We would go out for breakfast, trying a new bakery each day and get pastries and scones, coffees and smoothies that were all incredible. I had no idea what the French put in their food, but it was the best thing I had ever eaten.

We spent all day every day doing something, visiting somewhere. He got me to make a list of all of the places in Paris that I wanted to go, and he made it his goal to take me everywhere I wanted to go. We would spend hours upon hours just walking and exploring the incredible city.

We would walk around for hours, and every night we would wander back to the apartment normally an hour or two after midnight, and we would just collapse in bed, completely exhausted by everything we had done each day.

By the end of the week I was pretty tired, I just needed to have a good sleep for twelve hours straight, to refresh my brain. But Harry, on the other hand, was very energetic, very excited.

And I was a hundred percent sure he was trying to kill me.

All day every day, he would be flirty with me, touching me, teasing me, murmuring things into my ear that I would rather him not say when we were in public. And each night, when he had left me hardly able to function from how worked up he had gotten me, he would be too tired and would want to go to sleep.

For a day or two I thought he was just doing it without realising it, and I was just that affected by him touching me. But after a few days I knew the bastard was riling me up on purpose, because he had that stupid devilish smirk on his face all the time.

He had basically edged me for two weeks and I was not dealing well with it.

Something as simple as him slapping my ass when he walked past me, or even just placing his hand on the small of my back when we walked somehow managed to make my head go cloudy and I was ready to just melt into the floor every time.

He was definitely enjoying seeing how easily I got affected by him.

I never wanted this perfect little French life we had created in the past week to end though, no matter how frustrated he could make me so easily. I was genuinely having the best moments of my life. He was right when he said we were going to make the best memories here, because I didn't want to forget a single second of this trip.

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