Beautiful Stranger

The chill Parisian breeze kissed what I left exposed, which was not much at all. I strolled the streets of this beautiful city, covered head to toe in defence of the chill that I was only now accustomed to, a warm scarf wrapped around the lower half of my face. It felt good, knowing that nobody here knew me and I knew nobody here.

Sinking my teeth into this newfound sense of independence, I absorbed the night sounds of Paris, glimpsing La Tour Eiffel sparkle under the clear sky. I might be twenty years old and rich but I would never accept inherited money as my own. This city would mark the life that I would make for myself, by myself.

Quietly absorbing the bustling life of the city, I listened to the lilting French language spoken by the locals. A language spoken by moi aussi mais I often worried about how my French would sound to Francophones. My mind caught on something my best friend had told me in reassurance, who cares if you have an accent when you speak the language? It makes you interesting, it might even start up a conversation... with someone special, maybe? It was good advice, aside from the latter half of her statement. That was one which I did not want to think about, her implications quite obvious. As ironic as it may have seemed, love held no place in my new life in Paris, this was to be the first chapter of my story. Not some cheesy rom-com about falling in love in Paris - pfft.

I continued to watch the sights unravelling before me, taking a deep breath as I stopped devant la Tour Eiffel, despite my intended destination being La Seine. It was too iconic to not stop and I wondered why it had become the label for love. I knew there were historical background stories to be told about the monument but what made it feel like love? What was love even supposed to feel like? Not that it really mattered to me. I inhaled deeply once more, yes - independence felt so much better than lov-

"C'est cliché, non?" My train of thought was interrupted by a deep male voice, towering behind me. Alarms started in my head, only to turn around and see him and- woah. He was... cute? Nope, independence, remember.

"Pardon?" I was surprised that words even came out of my mouth.

"'La ville d'amour', mais pourquoi?" He answered intently.

My mouth gaped slightly, wondering how this strange man knew exactly what I had been thinking. Fortunately for me, he couldn't see that thanks to my face-obscuring scarf. I took a moment to absorb his appearance, how it seemed that every twinkling light in Paris wished to dance in his brown eyes. The sharp cut of his jaw made part of me want to reconsider my no-love-in-Paris-policy but I was not ruining my first night here because of a stranger.

"Bah chai pas," was my only answer and I hurriedly strode off in the direction of La Seine.

I slowed my pace after leaving the man behind and took to a leisurely walk, strolling down La Seine, feeling free when his voice behind me caused me to jump.

He continued in French, "where are you from?"

I wondered to myself whether it was that obvious that I was foreign.

But showcasing confidence that certainly wasn't there I replied in his language, "I'm from Australia, why do you ask?"

"You speak with an accent."

I felt my cheeks flush and once more became grateful for the scarf that covered them.

"Oh." I couldn't think of what else to say so I continued walking but he came with me.

"Je l'aime."

"Quoi?"

"Your accent," he said in English with ease. So he spoke English, interesting.