Chapter Fifty-Three: Headphones and French Songs

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Pierre's PoV:

You make out for a good twenty minutes, before she lifts her rosy lips off of yours - Her hands stroke along either side of your face. She smiles softly.


y/n whispers: That picture you sent me...

You nod. Seems the conversation is continuing again.

y/n: It does genuinely look a lot worse than it was mon amour.


Her eyes muster you for a reaction - You need a moment. After a few seconds you sigh.

Pierre: What did it actually look like then?

It looked like an intimate lunch date, between your girl and that fucker.

y/n: Well... I was eating, he showed up out of the blue.


You nod.

y/n sighs: And since I was still thinking about our bet, I was friendly to him, and when he asked if he could take a seat, I let him.

Pierre groans: And the headphones?

y/n chuckles: I was listening to music before he came, so he asked me what song it was - So, I played it for him. That's all it was.


You run your hand along her waist, softly applying pressure with your finger tips.

y/n whispers: I didn't even know anyone was taking pictures...

Do the cameras change anything for her?


y/n's PoV:

There's quite a bit of dismay in his eyes.

Pierre sternly: Would you have done anything differently if you would've known there were cameras?


You shake your head.

y/n: No Baby... It was friendly. Just a quick ten minute chat about the race and about some music. The cameras didn't change a thing, and I wouldn't have done something differently either, since nothing happened. You know that I rejected him now - I'm done with him and the bet.

He nods softly, as his fingers continue stroking along your bare skin.


Pierre sighs: And why was your hand on his arm then?

You run your fingers through your hair. You were flirting, that's why: You wanted him to ask you out again, you wanted to say yes, and you wanted your payback. His eyes darken as you take a little too long to answer.

Pierre groans: So you were flirting with him, am I right?


y/n nods: Yeah - For the bet.

Pierre: You promised me that you wouldn't.

y/n nods: I know mon amour.


Pierre jealous: But you still did. You flirted, you touched him, you did things you didn't even do with me yet.

y/n confused: Do you mean the music thing?

He nods abruptly - Why is he so bothered by this specific thing?


y/n softly: It was one song of mine. I didn't play him any more than that...

Pierre groans: It's not even about Norris-

y/n confused: Then what is it about? You're so hung up on that detail, Babe-


His eyes flicker in response; Oh you just struck a nerve. He pushes himself up, to sit upright, and his hands hold onto you a little steadier. He exhales slowly.

Pierre seriously: I'm not hung up y/n-

y/n: Okay, sorry- You're not-


Pierre irritated: Damn right I'm not. I'm not hung up - I'm jealous ma chérie. You really tested the waters with this whole bet thing, and I let you, since we made our own bet, and I lost - So I accepted it. We weren't properly together either, so I let you. But this picture? With your hand on his arm, and that bright, flirty smile? While playing him your music? No. Those are songs that I know you care about, since you practically always have headphones in, or you mention them to me... It just-


He groans loudly, while leaning back his head.


Pierre seriously: Do you have your headphones in your purse?

You stare at him, before you hesitantly nod.

Pierre demandingly: Go get them ma chérie.


He lets go of you, allowing you to get out of bed, you locate your purse and fish out the stringy headphones.

Pierre: Grab your phone too.


You do as he says, before you come back to him. He lifts the sheets, makes way for you to enter the bed, and then he hectically starts untangling your headphones.

Sure sharing music, especially music you feel strongly about, or connected to, is special, but you didn't think it was that big of a crime to show someone one single song. He cares so much, and it shines through in moments like these - It feels a lot more loving since he cares about the intimacy of sharing your music more, than he does about who you shared it with.


He holds out his hand, and you pass him your phone; He plugs in the headphones and then returns one bud to you, before handing you back your phone.

y/n smiles: What now? You want me to play you my music?

He just nods.


Pierre sighs: Show me what you played him-

He pauses.

Pierre softly: And play me your favourite songs.


You just stare at him, unable to process his request - He leans in for a soft kiss.

Pierre: I want to hear them-

y/n whispers: Alright...


You reciprocate the kiss, before propping up some pillows against the headboard. You sit to his right, with your back against the bed's headboard, as you light up your phone.

You missed a few calls and texts from Char, but you don't reply to them; You deserve time to cool off after telling him. After a few seconds you change your mind though, quickly opening WhatsApp and just simply messaging him the following:

y/n: I need time to cool off. I'm sleeping over at a friend's place instead of the hotel.


Charles reads your message immediately. Pierre's hand runs up and down your thigh. You turn your phone onto airplane-mode, before opening Spotify. You find "Je te laisserai des mots" by Patrick Watson, and you press play.

y/n whispers: This is the one I played for him...


After a minute, his hand stops gliding up and down - It's just rested on your leg. You sigh softly, as you wrap your left hand around the inside of his upper arm, before leaning your head against his shoulder. He brushes a few kisses against your forehead. When the song comes to an end he sighs.


Pierre whispers: A French song?

y/n whispers: Yeah...

Pierre: Wow...

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