I Left My Heart In Paris

Chapter 12

The blue sky was dotted with fluffy white clouds that drifted lazily in the gentle breeze. Camille was walking to the farmer's market that was located behind her apartment in Montmartre. "Bonjour!" she greeted as she walked past some locals nearby. She finally got to the market and began to observe the things that she wished to purchase.

She walked to the fruit stall and decided to purchase some fruits. "Bonjour, combien coûtent les pommes?" she asked politely to the salesperson.

"Bonjour. Ça coûte 10 euros le kilogramme. Combien de pommes voulez-vous?" The salesperson questioned as he took a plastic bag vehemently. "Est-ce que le prix est fixé monsieur?" she wondered as she pulled out her purse from her bag. "Oui. Le prix est fixé." he beamed courteously. 

"Bon, je peux avoir six pommes s'il vous plaît?" she said as she pulled out the exact 10 euros from her purse. "Voila." The man grinned as he gave her a bag full of apples. "Merci Monsieur… Bonne journée."

She bought a few fruits and veggies and sluggishly made her way to the flea market in front of Notre Dame. She looked around the place and  there was a lot of antique stuff. From old paintings, jewelleries and outdated silverware. She stopped before a hand-painting Eiffel tower illustration and decided to have a closer look.

"Excusez-moi Madame… ce tableau est-il en vente?" she asked genially to the woman.

"Oui. C'est en vente. Ça coûte 20 euros." she smiled as she was assembling the paintings on the table vehemently.

"C'est un beau tableau. D'accord je le prends." she grinned as she pulled out the exact amount of money from her purse. The woman took the painting from the pegs and wrapped it in paper. She took a plastic bag and placed the painting prudently so it won't crumple.

"Voila!" she beamed softly. Camille gave her the money and took the painting from the woman. She thanked the lady and sluggishly walked home.

As she was preoccupied with keeping her change back in her purse, a scooter came rushing into her direction. "Attention!" The man shouted at her as he accidentally hit her to the ground in one swoop. All of her things fell to the ground as well. "Merde. Est-ce que ça va? Vous êtes blessé? C'est toute ma faute. S'il vous plaît pardonnez-moi." The man said in a worried tone.

"Non, non, ça va. Je vais bien." she grinned as she looked up to him. Those ocean blue eyes look so familiar. He looked back at her and bit his lip nervously. "I'm sorry, do I know you from somewhere?" she questioned, switching to English as she furrowing her eyebrows perplexed.

"It's just that I've seen you before. If I'm not mistaken, are you the musician who performed at the jazz club yesterday evening?" she asked, pondering.

"Yes… yes I am." he replied with a big smile on his face.

"Let me be honest with you, you were amazing." she twinkled as she got up from the ground and picked up her things on the ground. "Thank you so much. Here, let me give you a hand." he offered to get her essentials and handed them to her generously.

"Merci. Où habitez-vous?" she asked, turning to him wondering. "J'habite au Montmartre avec mon ami. On a partagé un appartement ensemble." he added. "Moi aussi. Euh, est ce que vous voulez marchez à la maison avec moi?" she replied graciously, holding onto her paperbag.

"Allez, on y va!" he exclaimed in a joyful tone. "So, are you sure you're okay?" he questioned in an agonized voice. "Yeah, yeah. I'm great. Don't worry about it." she beamed turning to him. "Alors, d'où viens-tu?" he interrogated pleasantly.

"Je viens des Etats-Unis. J'habite dans une petite ville en Amérique, qui s'appelle Croydon. As-tu visité les Etats-Unis avant?"  she wondered walking the steps of Montmartre sluggishly.

"Tristement, non… mais dans le futur peut-être." He smiled, turning to her good-naturedly. "Ça va, toi et moi pouvons voyager ensemble." she grinned softly.

"When's your birthday?" she asked as they walked up the narrow flight of stairs together. "January 3rd 1998." He replied "How about you?" he asked sympathetically.

"November 24th, 2001." she answered as they stopped on her floor ploddingly. "Well, I guess this is my floor. I'll see you later. Um…" she paused trying to figure out the guy's name in her head. "Pierre. Et toi? Comment tu t'appelles?"

"Right, Pierre. Moi, je suis Camille." she introduced amiably shaking hands with him.

"Enchantée Camille." he beamed as he shook hands with her as well. "A tout à l'heure Pierre. C'était gentil de te rencontrer toi." she said as she pushed open the front door and immediately walked inside turning to the door.

"Toi aussi. Salut!" he waved, making his way up the stairs steadily. "Salut." she replied as she closed the door behind her.

Pierre turned to Camille's door and she was already gone. His smile fades away as he continues his steps up to his apartment. As he was climbing up the stairwell, he immediately received a text message from Gabriel that wrote: 'Mec, t'es ou? Allez, manger des pizzas avec nous.'

'Sur mon chemin.' he replied as he got to his floor and walked straight up to the door. He pulled out the key from his jacket pocket and opened the door straightaway. He opened the door and Gabriel was in the living room with Hugo consuming two boxes of pepperoni pizzas. "Salut!" he greeted his friends as he plopped down on the couch jadedly.

"Salut mec, ça va? Tu veux des pizzas?" Hugo provided nicely as he handed him a slice of pizza. "Merci." He smiled and took the food from him. "Alors, Pierre, moi et Hugo sommes allés au cinéma. Tu viens? On va regarder ce nouveau film qui s'appelle 'The House Of Gaunt.' Gabriel said as he fumes his cigarette smoothly.

"Non merci. Je pense que je reste à la maison ce soir. Amusez-vous tous les deux." he said as he got up and went towards his room, closing the door.

He sat on his bed and switched on his phone scrolling through Instagram. He liked a few pictures and came across a photo of Camille. He stared at her and hit the follow button.

"So… what is he like?" Amy asked through the computer screen as she gave her a sly smirk. "Like what?" she replied, pouring herself a glass of milk and sat at the table vigorously. "Pierre. The guy you met in the streets. Remember?" Amy said sarcastically.

"Oh, him. Yeah, I ran into him while I was running some errands at the farmer's market this morning." she admitted sipping on her glass of milk steadily.

She picked up her phone from the table and a notification popped up on the screen. "Oh my gosh, speak of the devil, look who just followed me on social media." she exclaimed feverishly. "Who!" Amy asked enthusiastically. "Pierre Martin."

"Pierre Martin, the guy you were talking about earlier?" Amy questioned excitedly.

"Obviously." she grinned fortunately glancing at her best friend delightfully.