AN: Hello everyone! I can't believe Paris In The Rain already has over 400 reads. My last two books didn't have this much reads this fast and I'm very thankful for everything. Your votes and comments motivate me to be a better writer.

Also, if you feel like this story is moving kind of fast, I'm sorry. I'm purposely making the first part of Harry and Aurora's relationship go a bit faster that way we can get to the more interesting stuff. Don't worry though, towards the end of the book, there will be more details about the beginning of their relationship. Just hang in there with me please.

I'm thinking that this book will have 50 to 60 chapters so we're far from the end. I'm planning on having a sequel as well.

For now, enjoy this chapter and I'll see you next time!

~Alex

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On our last day in Sicily, we decided to take a ferry and tour all of the other small islands that surrounded Sicily. It had rained the past couple of days, preventing us from being able to do all of the things we wanted to do.

With each passing day, I fell deeper in love with Harry, cursing myself every time I realized it. Every time the thought would pass through my mind, I'd push it away, not wanting to dwell on the fact that I knew it was true. I just wanted to enjoy my new relationship with Harry and the time we spent together, things feeling different now that we were no longer just friends.

In a way, I felt closer to him, feeling like this was how things were supposed to be. I liked it when I'd wake up and he'd be right there beside me, the most peaceful and beautiful look on his face as he slept with his arms around me. I liked the way his soft lips felt against mine when we kissed, always tasting like mint and just a hint of sugar like that was what he always tasted like. Or the way my skin burned whenever he touched me so delicately. One wrong move and I'd shatter underneath his fingertips.

It didn't take Liam and Louis long to find out that we were no longer friends, our swollen lips and sparkling eyes giving it all away the second they looked at us as we came downstairs. They had made a bet on how long it would take us to get together, Louis winning by saying it'd only take two months while Liam said five.

While we rode on the ferry - the salty breeze tickling my skin as small wisps of hair blew into my face - Harry sat beside me with his notebook opened and a pencil in his hand, sketching something as he looked past me and out into the ocean. Liam and Louis were sat across from us, having their own conversation as they sat close together, their knees pressed tightly up against each others.

"What are you drawing?" I ask Harry, glancing over at him.

"The ocean," he says simply without turning his journal around to let me see. I knew Harry liked to keep his drawings to himself, only letting me see a few here and there. I never pried, understanding that he liked to keep his privacy.

My father has always been the same way. As a little girl, I used to beg him to let me see his drawings, wondering what was inside those journals that he always brought with him no matter where we went. He never showed them to me though, and I only got to see the artwork that was shown at his art exhibitions.

We made stops around multiple islands, only staying there for about an hour or longer before moving on to the next one. It was a whirlwind of site seeing and ocean water, finally calming down once we arrived at the last island, Lampedusa. "Now we can finally relax," Liam sighs once we step off of the ferry, having almost three hours to enjoy our time here.

"Thank God. That was too much for one day," Louis replies, earning a small laugh from Liam. After having visited multiple towns and historical places, I was ready to relax on the beach and swim in the beautiful turquoise water. "Being a tourist is hard," Louis whines, Liam rolling his eyes at his words.

"Maybe if you'd stop sitting on your ass all day, it wouldn't be hard," Liam muses as he waits for Louis' sassy reaction with an amused look in his eyes.

"Oh fuck off, Li," Louis replies.

Harry and I watch as they bicker over where to lay their towels out at, Louis giving Liam the middle finger once he turned around.

"Quite a pair those two make," I muse, walking with Harry as we try to find a less crowded place.

Harry chuckles softly, running his hands through his hair that had been disheveled by the breeze, "I rather think so."

We come to a spot where hardly anyone was around, laying out our beach towels on the white sand. I slip off my sundress to reveal my white bathing suit as Harry easily takes off his shirt, leaving him in his yellow swimming trunks. "You have a tattoo?" Harry asks me, looking at the place on my skin just underneath the bottom of my top.

"Oh. Yeah," I say, running my fingers over the black ink, "It's my grandmother's name in her handwriting."

"Renée," he smiles, tracing his fingers over the small letters, goosebumps rising on my skin, "I've never noticed it until now. That's your middle name right?"

I nod my head, my heart racing as Harry's fingers are still on my tattoo, "I forget I have it sometimes, having gotten it done so long ago," I tell him, letting out a breath once he pulls his hand away. I had gotten it when I was seventeen, the year after she died.

"It probably hurt didn't it?" He asks while we both sit down, "That area is really sensitive."

I laugh, recalling having almost squeezed my best friend's hand off, "Yeah. It did hurt quite a bit," I smile at him, enjoying the way his skin glowed underneath the sun that was just starting to fall from the sky, "I probably won't ever get another tattoo though."

Harry hums, lazily letting his eyes roam over my exposed torso, "Why is that?"

"I only got this one because it meant something to me and it was something that I never wanted to forget. For me, I think tattoos should be sentimental, you know?" I explain, eyeing the multitude of tattoos that covered his arms and torso, "What do your tattoos mean?"

He stares at me for a second before taking my hand in his, placing it on the two swallows that were near his collarbone, "These symbolize how much I've traveled over the years," he says, moving my hand down to the large butterfly that covered his stomach, "This symbolizes my transformation of life through different stages," my hand moves down to his two ferns leaves, my fingertips lightly tracing them as he holds his hand over mine, "and these represent my struggle through my journey of becoming a successful artist."

He takes his hand away as I rest my fingertips on the Green Bay Packers tattoo, smiling up at him as I trace the small circle, "What about this?" I ask him, watching as he lets out a small laugh.

"I lost a bet," he chuckles, watching me as I move my attention to the Hebrew letters, "That's my sister's name. Gemma."

I nod my head, listening as he tells me about all of his tattoos that I asked about, tracing every single one with the tip of my fingers, enjoying the way I caused goosebumps to rise on his skin.

There was one I had been saving for last, wondering why he got it in the first place, "And this one?" I ask, tracing the stem of the large rose covering up most of his left arm.

Harry hums, watching my face as I delicately trace the petals of the beautiful rose, "I guess you could say it represents love, but I like to say I got it because it's my mum's favorite flower," he replies and I nod my head, not being able to tear my eyes away from the beautiful ink on his skin.

"That can't be the reason why you got it," I quirk an eyebrow at him, knowing there was a deeper reason as to why he got this tattoo.

There was so much detail and it took up too much space for it not to hold some significance. Harry doesn't say anything as he looks at me, as if he's debating as to whether or not he wants to tell me the actual meaning.

I was about to tell him if he didn't feel comfortable telling me he didn't have to when he clears his throat, shifting a bit on his towel.

"Okay," Harry finally says, "I got it because it was the first thing I drew when I first discovered my talent. It was in my mum's garden and I thought it was so pretty, so I decided to draw it," he explains, staring past me at the clear ocean water, "My mum kept it after I threw it away one day after I got made fun of for being able to draw. She gave it to me when I went away for college, telling me I should never be ashamed of my talent."

I listen to his story without saying anything, wondering how people could be so mean and make fun of someone just because they have a beautiful talent. "I'm sorry, Harry," I whisper, looking up to meet his eyes.

He shrugs his shoulders, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, "Look at me now. I'm one of the most successful artists in Europe," he smiles at me and leans forward to press a kiss to my lips, making me lean into him as my body goes numb.

Harry had told me how he had gotten so well known, saying it took many years of patience and practice. His professor in college owned an art museum and had put a couple of Harry's paintings up. Multiple art critics and other famous artists saw his paintings and were immediately amazed at his talent of being able to express emotion through a human being through a painting. All of his paintings sold that night and people were asking for more, saying how amazed they were by his talent.

"Which beats me. I've seen better," I joke, causing Harry to let out a loud laugh.

"Oh, I'm sure. My drawing and painting skills are shit," he smiles at me, happiness filling his vibrant green eyes as he stares at me.

I get up, brushing the sand from my hands as I start walking backwards towards the ocean, "Where are you going?" Harry says with a small laugh, leaning back onto his hands as he watches me.

"For a swim," I call back to him, "I think getting bitten by a shark would be a good way to end this vacation, don't you?"

His laugh gets carried over to me by the salty breeze, mixing into the air around me before slipping away. I watch him as he gets up, slowly making his way over to me as I continue to back away from him, "Sounds rather tragic to me. Definitely wouldn't recommend it."

I laugh at his words, stopping once I feel the sand become firm and cold underneath my feet. The ocean was only a few feet away from me as Harry came towards me with a beautiful smile on his face that could outshine the sun.

"You're right. It does sound rather tragic. Painful even," I tilt my head to the side with a smile, wrapping my arms around him as he finally stands in front of me, "How do you feel about getting wet?" I ask as I start walking backward again, pulling him with me.

Cold water wraps itself around our feet as I continue to pull Harry with me, going deeper and deeper into the water with each step. Harry smiles down at me with his arms locked around my waist, the sun turning his eyes a lighter shade of green, "I guess I wouldn't mind."

I stop once the water reaches our waist, shivering as my body adjusts to the cold water, Harry's arms wrapped around me making my skin burn with desire.

No matter what, he always makes my heart beat faster than normal and my stomach becomes fluttery with butterflies. I always found myself wondering how he felt when I touched him or kissed him. If I made his heart race with just the sound of my voice or if I made him smile when he thought about me.

"Good," I smile before falling back into the water, pulling Harry with me.

I wasn't sure if it was the fact that we were underwater or the fact that reality hit me during that moment, but I finally felt as if I was weightless. My body was finally at peace with everything and happiness had completely taken back over my life. That crushing weight that had been sitting on my shoulders for these past two years was finally gone and I felt like I could finally breathe again.

So when we finally resurfaced, water dripping into our eyes and our lungs burning from the lack of oxygen, I kissed Harry with everything in me. I didn't care that his lips tasted like salt water and we were still trying to catch our breath.

I only cared about him and the way he made me feel.