Glow | Tokyo Ghoul

# 0 0 5 ⦋ Bold Questions ⦌

— 2016

word count — 2227

♪

Grunting under my breath, I sped up against the cold wind to where Mirélle stood, shivering slightly as she inhaled from her cigarette. Admittedly, it didn't look very appealing when she smoked, yet I was still attracted to her – I guess pretty girls could pull off anything.

   Moral of the story, kids.

   She took notice of my arrival before I had said anything. With a gentle smile, she stood up straight, waving at me.

    "Uchiyama," I bowed mock-grandly, the way I had at the Festival.

    "Hide..." she whined, pouting and turning away. 

    "I'm just messing with you!" laughing, I strode towards her; the warnings of the group hung over my head as a reminder. Jeez, as if. "Don't you think you've been out here long enough? It's cold."

   Glancing at her feet, she scratched her black heels on the gravel. "I just needed some air."

    "Is there something on your mind?"

    "I was just thinking." She looked at the sky, as though she were part of a different place: that the only thing keeping her tethered to Earth was the cigarette. I stared at her, trying to find a way in, but she interrupted and spoke in a voice so low that I had to move closer. "It's a bit different here, compared to France."

    "Yeah? In what way?" I instantly removed my jacket once she shivered again.

    She put her hands up. "What are you doing? I'm fine."

    "You're cold, I'm not!"

    "But I—"

    "Really!"

    "It'll smell like smoke."

    "Honestly, it's all right!"

    "Thanks, je pense..." she hummed, gradually giving me another smile as she wore it. "But yeah,I was thinking about how different the cultures are when compared each other. Comme France, to me, feels a lot less confined in a way," she bit her lip, running her fingers through her brown hair. "Every time I come back here, I need a bit of time to adjust to the differences and etiquette again, or I slip up and people stare and talk."

    "In what way could you slip up?"

    "Hmmm..." she gazed at me. "When I first entered, I was about to greet you in a different way; in France, with strangers, with friends, family, people that are close to you or people you just met, etcetera, it's normal to greet with a kiss on both cheeks. It's called 'La-Bise'."

    "Really?" I exclaimed as my eyes widened. "That's a thing? A kiss? To everyone?"

    "It's not exactly a kiss, it's more of...alors, do you mind if I show you?"

   My cheeks abruptly went degrees higher as I forced out a chuckle. "Well...no, I guess I don't mind."

   Turning her cigarette to the other side, Mirélle put a smile on her face and tilted her head. "Salut," she chirped, leaning in close and placing her cold cheek against mine. She did kiss me, but there wasn't exactly a moment of when her lips actually made contact with my cheek — until she moved to the other cheek, where she lingered for a few seconds longer.