élan

rêvasser

rêvasser is to daydream in french.

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Fran🫧

send me a pic of your nails when ur done!!!!

After answering with an agreeable response, (Y/N) flicked to an email from her stylist. Details were being rehashed over what she wanted to wear to the 132 Gala coming in the next few weeks, Dom again trying to push her in the direction of a darker outfit while she gravitated towards her usual palette of softer hues. Outside the window, glimmering buildings swept by with too many cars on the street and too many people, not paying attention, trying to cross the pavement.

Harry was a silent wall beside her, quiet and stiff. Just like usual. This was the first she'd seen him since the pilates incident. Though he was in a substantially better mood than that last meeting, even giving her a slight smile when she climbed into the SUV beside him, (Y/N) still heard the round of reprimanding he doled out for her.

She'd happily take Harry over her father, though. Now that, for the first time ever, he'd followed through on a threat (i.e. getting a bodyguard for her), there was a level of worry tied to any contact involving her dad. But, he hadn't called at all this week—not even a passive-aggressive text sent her way. When she had texted him that she finally RSVP'd to the upcoming Gala like he'd been hounding her to do just a week prior, he'd left her on read. While she much rather preferred this limited contact, she had a brewing worry that something worse was in the works if he was willing to ignore whatever information Harry had relayed or anything he'd read in the press.

But, she'd take what she could get. Focusing on the Gala with prepping and planning was something she'd happily let take her attention, even if the whole bodyguard/handler/professional babysitter thing was going to be hard to ignore given that Harry would have to accompany her to any and all events surrounding the event.

Though there was one thing her mother did instill in her before she divorced her husband and began jaunting around the world with (Y/N) left at home: Nothing could ruin a good nail appointment. Not even the presence of a bodyguard was an exception to that rule as far as (Y/N) was concerned.

"Thank you, Sully," she chirped, stepping out of the SUV with a wave over her shoulder. Harry predictably followed right after her, the soles of his shoes patting against the concrete. "You don't have to come with me, if you don't want," she told him, stopping him before he could close the door behind and prompt Sully to leave, "It's kind of a long appointment, so if you wanted Sully to take you to get something to eat or whatever, I'm sure he'd be okay with that."

While she couldn't imagine Harry taking her up on the offer, at least not after the clear line he made earlier in the week, she still felt it was something she should give as an option. Nail appointments weren't very exciting if you weren't the one in the chair.

"No, thank you," Harry answered without a lag, closing the door behind him with a slam. He didn't even look at her as he spoke.

Turning on her heel, (Y/N) took in a deep breath and moved on. Stepping through the front door held a moment of deja vu with the way Harry trailed behind her silently. The women manning the front gave her the same curious looks as the waitstaff at the brunch shop though they all treated her with more familiarity after coming to her regular appointments for almost two years now.

"Hi! Welcome in, (Y/N)!" the same blonde woman that always greeted her said, her eyes floating above her shoulder to find Harry, "How are you?"

The shining smile that earned her a top spot in the rumor mill bloomed on (Y/N)'s lips, "I'm doing perfect, thank you! You?"