021

                                    

                                          
Robin 
LOCATION: Paris, France 
"We're almost there", Harry pops his head aside the bathroom door of the train, a toothbrush hanging out his mouth. I nod my head zipping close my last luggage. The train we rested in was small, us being the only occupants along with a couple of others and the conductor. 
It's quiet, the shadows of trees or buildings quickly passing, forming shapes along my skin as I stared out the window at the new environment. I already imagined it smells of good coffee and fresh, warm bread. 
France is one of the last places I would imagine myself, especially with a job that occupied my life more than I could myself. Again, I knew nothing of the language of the place in which I stayed. 
Harry showed out with his French skills last night, speaking with someone over the phone as I had began to get ready for bed. After his phone call he shuffled himself into the small vicinity of the bathroom, his hands kneading my waist. 
"Yes?", I looked at him through the mirror applying a night serum to my face. 
"You look pretty", he smiled, a kiss planted at the my shoulder and a squeeze from his hands. 
It was oddly domestic.
I was occupied with filling out Harry's patient information before his ring clad hand shut my laptop closed. If it wasn't for him, I'd have pages filled with daily information about his injuries, unfortunately I've been distracted by a certain someone. 
"Harry I actually need to finish that", I opened the laptop back up, my eyes focused on his body in front of me. 
" M'Sorry love. I wanted to run the day by for you", he reached across the small table and found my hand, fumbling with my bare nails. "I'm listening". 
I gave him my full attention and responded to his touching, our fingers messing with the tips of one another's. His hands are warm. 
"I have an interview". 
"For?". 
"Quotidien. Um it's live, audience and everything", I nodded my head at his words, although some part of him was uneasy. I go to pull my hand away, but his grip doesn't allow me to. 
"Something wrong?", I furrow my eyebrows at his sudden mood change. 
"I just don't know if you want to watch, long process and everything with getting ready".
"I don't mind leaving while you get ready, but why would I not want to watch?", suddenly the energy I withheld shifted uncomfortably, Harry's private, but he isn't difficult to read. Silence. 
"Is everyone else going to watch?".
"Yes", he responded with just a mumble, I pulled my hand away, wordlessly excusing myself to the bathroom. 
"Then me going isn't any different". 
The rest of the time spent on the train was filled with paperwork and my head against the glass window and music playing throughout my ears. I pondered over Harry and his signals, it was hard to remove the situation from my head without the feelings attached to it all. They were tied to me and I couldn't cut them off. 
I shouldn't feel this way, whatever Harry is attempting to keep me from is his business to carry, my feelings shouldn't be affected by it at all, yet here I am.
My belongings, along with Harry's, were put in a car and driven back to where we would be staying. We stood surrounded by tall men, cameras, and screaming fans as we waited for another car which would take us to the studio Harry would be interviewed at.