I held the cake in my hands. My vanilla cake, the one my mom adores. I stopped in front of the door. Everyone loves vanilla, right? It's been a while since I haven't been here. What if they think it's too American? Would I have done this, four years ago? Definitely not. I breathe in, breathe out some minutes. I was going to knock at the door when someone opened it a little bit. I could not really see the person.
"Are you okay? I heard noises..." a low-pitch voice pronounced.
"Yeah hum... I was just bringing some cake."
The man behind the door opened it wider. Shit. He looked like him. I tried to resonate with myself but even if he had spent the last years far from Paris, I could not stop imagining it was him.
"Oh cool. Are you the new neighbor?" he replied while staring at me from foot to head.
I recognized his freckles. I had to ask the question.
"Felix? Do you know who I am?"
"I do, Anastasia."
The cake fell from my hands and splashed both of our jeans.
YOU ARE READING
The chestnuts of Montmartre
Romance"Chestnuts, painters, restaurants... I fell for the place before than for Felix, to be honest. Felix was leaning against the wall, on the corner of the street. I immediately fell in love the first second I noticed him. He looked like midnight rain...
