A Heart Among Ink and Flames

Part One

        There were many people in a hurry on that Friday afternoon in Paris. But not Camille. She stood out; while everyone was running about, she took to strolling, some could say sauntering jauntily.

        If you knew Camille (which with most probability, you didn't), you knew that she was most definitely not a book person. Instead, she would much prefer going to a party or the midnight release for a new movie. But it was Camille's tutor's birthday, and she was always searching for the next great romance novel. Also bookshops always seem to have good film shots or at least café. So when she spotted a sign that read 'The Bookshop', which happened to be right next to the Notre Dame Cathedral, she took her chance and went inside.

        "Bonjour!"Camille called, presuming that there was a person who ran the bookshop and not just the obese cat that was staring at her with a name tag that read Henri. There was no answer, so she doubtfully made her way into the cramped, overstuffed store with books piled every which way on every surface, with seemingly no organizational method. On one side, she could see a small cafe stocked with your typical croissants, eclairs, and pain au chocolat; there was also thé and café for drinks, the latter of which Camille was relieved.

        Deciding to go find somebody who actually worked at the place, she set off with her film camera swinging at her side. 

        Cursing softly as Camille tripped over what seemed like the millionth book, she looked around searching for anything that might point in the romance direction and-smack, ran right into who she deduced was the owner of the bookstore. He looked about her age and certainly looked the part for being in a bookshop, with his tweed jacket and tortoiseshell glasses, he fit right in with the bookish atmosphere.

       "Pardon, pardon," he muttered rather distractedly.

       "You know, you should really stay at the front desk more, what if someone actually wanted to buy something?"

       "Quoi?" he replied with a confused tone, finally meeting her eyes and taking his off what she could now distinguish as an immense novel titled A la Recherche du Temps Perdu.

       "Aren't you the owner?" she remarked, rather pointedly, by waving her arms at all the stacks of books behind her.

       Camille saw the man's (whose name she still hadn't gotten) eyes start to twinkle as he began to laugh after what she had said. When he realized she wasn't laughing, he looked up at her and asked, "were you serious?"

       "Of course I was serious! Who else was I supposed to think was the owner, now I'm starting to think it is the cat!" She exploded, gesturing wildly to Henri, who looked back at her with concern.

        "No offense mademoiselle, but anyone who has been in here before knows that the bookshop takes care of itself. No one can take novels out, there is never any dust, and Henri has seemingly always been here" he said, nodding towards the large cat. "If it was the food or drink you wanted, just say whatever it is you're looking for, and it will whip it right up for you; oh and be specific with the number, unless you want endless croissants piling up," he finished this ridiculous statement in a perfectly serious tone.

        "Really," Camille replied sarcastically.

        "Oui, you can try if you want."

        "Okay, I will," she was still eyeing him for the moment he would break and yell "got you!"

          But alas, she must have really wanted coffee because she went to the cafe and asked it, "un café au lait"

        "You also have to tell it please or it won't serve you" he adds.

         Of course it won't, Camille thinks; feeling absolutely ridiculous she asks for it the second time, "un café au lait, s'il vous plait." And by God, she just about jumps right out of her coffee malnourished skin.

        "It worked," she said breathlessly to the man (whose name she still hadn't apparently gotten), "it worked!"

        "Of course it did," with a smile he held his hand out and added, "I'm Remy, by the way."

         She took his hand completely mystified, amazed, and gleeful that the coffee was good, but she still managed to say, "Camille".

         "Were you looking for something, or was the coffee the reason you came in here?"

         "Oh, actually yes, it's a friend's birthday and she is absolutely obsessed with romance, do you actually have to walk there or can I just say 'romance' and have it teleport me to the section" Camille said only half joking.

        "Unfortunately, I'll have to lead you there myself" he smiled sideways and led her to a corner of books that looked exactly the same as the rest of them besides the covers, which were prominently pastel. 

         "Here it is."

         "Merci," Camille was about to say, still having billions of thoughts and questions racing through her mind, but when she turned around, Remy had disappeared. 

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Thanks for reading! If you woudn't mind, I'm looking for people to critique this story; so if there was something that didn't add up, or anything that I can do better, please comment! Thanks again!