PAPARAZZI - h.s.

6

 

[harry’s pov]

 

Oh fuck.

 

I removed the camera from my face immediately as I had realized her perfectly formed eyes were focusing on me. I froze to the spot in surprise simply just staring back at her. She tilted her head slightly so a blonde strand of hair fell out of place, waving its way down the side of her face.

 

It wasn’t exactly legal to take pap photos here in Paris without permission. With that fact lingering in the back of my mind I kept the gaze lock. Was she going to send someone out after me? Could I outrun them? If so I could never again near her - she would probably recognize me. I was holding my breath waiting for her reaction.

 

I had no idea what thoughts roared around behind those beautiful sharp seeing eyes of hers. Time stood still. The falling raindrops had frozen in the air, that strand of hair didn’t move an inch further.

 

And right as I thought she might storm out here to smack me in the face or stick her middle finger at me - she did quite the opposite. She waved at me to come over to her.

 

For a moment I just stared dumbfounded at her - while weighing out the reason for her action. Was she going to lurk me closer in order to have be being taken and arrested or something? Was she going to make a scene and start yelling at me? Demand to get my camera? Slap me? Did she recognize me from New York? She probably did - she had seen me a lot of times briefly. Of course she remembered me.

 

She repeated the motion and I decided to go with just being reckless instead of keeping my distance. After all she was just another beautiful woman right?

 

My body came awake and I started to cross the street looking after cars, as I did so. The drizzle had soaked the fabric of my white dress shirt, which therefore stuck slightly to my skin. And I could feel the tiny raindrops in my hair too.

 

I had never spoken with her. Never heard her voice up close.

 

I entered the hotel through the open door with the golden frame. The place was even more beautiful from the inside with the marble floor, slow soft jazz music and the chandeliers in each room. Amazed I looked up at the ceiling only to see how the foyer of the hotel had a mirror ceiling with golden squares. I had never been in such a fancy place - it was nothing like the clubs in Manhattan, which merely tried to look like something as this. No this oozed of money and classic luxury.

 

She kept her eyes locked on me the whole way, as if she observed the way I moved, watched my body without an inch of shame. And why should she feel ashamed? I had been the one who had been caught. It was strange having someone acting like this - having a girl act like this. But obviously she couldn’t be different from the rest. I knew just how to twist her around my little finger and get out of this - all I had to do was break down that perfect facade of hers.

 

Her legs were crossed as she sat there on the bar chair. One arm resting on the bar the other of the back of her chair. The black dress fell slightly to the side showing off her one leg just from above the knee and down. Not a hair was out of place. It seemed golden in the light.

 

I held the camera loosely down my side and she followed my action closely as I pulled out the chair beside her. Without asking permission I took a seat, just as the bartender handed her a drink with clear liquid.

 

I placed the camera carefully on the mahogany bar desk, which had a matching golden line along the edge. The seats of the bar chairs were of worn brown leather too - and that repeated golden line.

 

Slowly I turned my gaze back to her observant one. I could read the slight wonder and disgust in her moss green eyes, which were drawn up with a thick line of eyeliner on the upper eyelid. As her heavy sweet scent washed in over mixing with the scent of smoke and the alcohol on her breath, I waited for her to say something. Had she wanted me here just to look at me like an animal in a cage up close?

 

She let her slender fingers around the glass stem bringing the crystal glass to her red lips. Looking at me over the edge of the glass she sipped at the clear liquid - how much had she been drinking? I hadn’t exactly counted how many glasses of white wine she had had nor knew whether or not she was a weak drinker.

“Anything for you sir?” A calm voice asked me, while I kept my eyes on Naomi Fay.

 

“Whatever she’s having,” I stated absent minded determined to win this strange gaze battle. A cold smirk grew over her lips at my choice and I knew she was so close to searching away from my gaze.

 

“You enjoy it.”

 

It wasn’t a question, yet her voice was smooth as silk. I could just sense that French accent lingering at the edge of her lips.

 

“You enjoy taking photos of me everyday. You enjoy following me and exposing me. You enjoy trying to ruin my life.”

 

Though those beautiful features in her face were perfectly calm and outgoing, stunning, charming - her voice told a different story, as it was filled with poison and utter disgust.

 

“You enjoy it.”

How the hell was I going to get through that thick facade of pure loathing - I had to if I was going to get out of this without losing every penny I owned. I had to break through to her. Make her change her mind.

It was a challenge, which I was sure of winning. I sent her a beam which I knew from experience had a certain effect on people - her reaction was no expection, as her eyes travelled to my dimples and then back to my eyes.

This was maybe even going to be easy - and amusing?

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