Quiet Little French Girl. [h.s.]

Jam On Toast; Movie Nights.

"So did Evelyn get on her flight okay?" I ask Odette as I prepare her some jam on toast. Evelyn's flight was early this morning and considering I haven't seen Odette for the last couple of days, she decided to drop by my apartment after making sure her sister was safely on the flight back home.

'Yes, I'm going to miss her though.' Her expression pulls at my heart strings, that small and unhappy pout residing on her lips shows me that she's upset about her sister leaving - it must be hard to be so far away from her family.

"I know baby," I saunter over to her, and press my lips against her temple in a loving gesture. I can't help but think back to the letter every time I'm with her, it makes me curious as to what she's thinking and how she's feeling right at that precise moment; is her heart is fluttering? Is her skin is tingling like mine is?

She wraps her arms around my waist as I speak, my right hand gliding across her back whilst my right holds her hips securely. "I have to hand my project in tomorrow." I inform her of the deadline; everything is pretty much done, I've just been editing the format lately to see what looks the best and after a week of editing I think I'm finally happy with it.

Odette pulls away, 'wow has it been a month already?' I nod with a small smile, it seems like time has passed her by too. Her hands start to move as she continues the conversation, however my eyes stare solely at hers, watching intently as the beautiful features absorb her own movements. She's so incredible, her eyes like a clear sea.

My mind blurs due to my lack of concentration, I was too focused on examining her stunning eyes than reading her hand movements - I only caught a few words and I'm pretty sure she didn't say what I thought she did, "I was too busy admiring your eyes just then and I'm pretty sure you didn't say, 'do you get a meal tomorrow?' So could you repeat that please love?" My smile is wide at her small blush, I don't know if she's blushing because I was admiring her eyes, or because I called her 'love'. Although knowing Odette it's probably both.

After gaining composure she starts again, 'do you get to decide what area of business you go into tomorrow?' What was I thinking? That sounds nothing like what I thought, I must be deteriorating... Either that or you need to pay more attention, my subconscious snarls back at me.

"Not quite, Margaret said that the project was designed specifically so that it uses all areas of the company - whether it's the art and design, or travel, or marketing and sales areas and so on. It's been designed in a way that I could literally chose anything and do that. She said that I have to hand it in first and if the board approve of my work, only then will they give me the opportunity to progress in the business." I explain to her. I don't actually get the promotion straight away, my work has to be scrutinised by a board of governors from each area of James and Miller Enterprises Ltd and also by Illuminate Airlines' managing director. No pressure Harry.

'And what would you like to go in to after all of this?' She asks inquisitively, leaning the small of her back against the kitchen counter.

"I'd like to be the managing director of the company."

Her mouth drops, 'of the entire company?' I nod, 'Harry that's a big job.' I notice worry cross her face and I can't help but smile at her concern, my dimples already protruding - snippets of her letter reminding me that she loves it when that happens.

Teasingly, I close the gap between our faces; my lips gently brushing hers and my breath warming her delicate skin. "I have a masters degree and a good recommendation. I'll be fine baby, but thanks for worrying." She blushes, the heat from her crimson face radiates onto me and I chuckle at the action, moving away before she can connect our lips.

I watch as Odette rolls her eyes, clearly embarrassed, although obviously used to my teasing by now. I take her toast from the toaster and spread some raspberry jam on top, 'thank you.' She signs, taking the plate from my grasp; her pale skin brushing against mine softly, allowing the minute hairs on our skin to embrace for just a second before she walks away from me to sit at the kitchens island.