TEMPTRESS

IV.

ANGÈLE JOSÉPHINE MONET LAURENT CHASTIN - PARIS, FRANCE 1968

Julien woke up earlier in the morning to catch his train heading towards Saint Tropez. Julien was a young professor and lectured students at a school in Paris on the art of photography which was his hobby. He was heading over to Saint Tropez for a meeting with teachers and the board of directors in the school. He had prepared a speech to present in front of all of them on why photography is a cherished form of art.

He woke up and decided to start cleaning the place, picking glasses up, emptying the ash tray, placing the vinyl's back in their cases. He set his luggage by the front door crossing the house towards Angele's bedroom. Her bedroom was white, with hints of green and wood. She even had pictures taped up to the wall, either of them or her brothers. Some were even of herself from magazines she cut out and there was one of Jean Cocteau's portrait he drew of her when she was 14. She was peacefully sleeping, her head against the mattress, her arms underneath her pillow. He sat down on the bed, making sure he wouldn't wake her up. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek softly, looking at the delicate figure. He ran his hands up by her side before squeezing her arm and got up closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.

She woke up to the sound of fumbling in the kitchen and the smell of eggs and fresh bread. She ran her hand through her blonde hair, ruffling up her bangs and let out a quiet yawn as she stretched her thin arms. She sat up at rubbed her eyes as if she was adjusting her vision herself. The sun was beaming through the windows, brightening up her room. She stood up and walked over to her closet and grabbed hold of her long floral silk robe, tying the belt around her waist.

"Ça sens bon." She complimented her older brothers cooking, watching him crack another egg in the pan. Alexandre was awake and busy setting the table and cutting fruits for them. He set the sliced peaches in a bowl and placed it in the center of the table along with the sliced-up bread and cheese platter.

"Merci." He smiled and pecked her cheek 'Good morning'.

"Alex, bien dormis?" She asked her twin, ruffling up his hair before sitting down at the table.

Alexandre nodded in response and rapidly kissed her cheek, sitting down as well. "Tu nous fait un cafe, Adrien?" She asked her brother. Adrien served the sunny-side up eggs on each plate before preparing the coffee over the stove in an old Moka Pot that belong to Julien's parents.

"Pour toi et pour toi." He said as he poured the twins a hot cup of coffee before opening up the window.

"Merci." She thanked him.

"So? What should we do today?" Alexandre asked, biting into his toast bread which he had covered with the cooked sunny-side up.

Angele shrugged not knowing what they'd be doing today. "Shall we watch a movie? It's at 6 p.m. Maybe we could go out to grab lunch?" She suggested.

"What are they playing?" Adrien asked, the suggestion grasping his attention. He was a 27-year-old aspiring movie director. Film was his passion. He lived for movies. You could describe any movie scene and he'd be able to tell you the name, the director, the year, and the main cast.