Underground

23

My feet tap against the tiled patio, my feet bare of any shoes or socks as the weather has gifted us with a beautiful warm first night in Paris. 

A pack of cigarettes lay beside me as I don't dare to open them, but my eyes stay  locked with the tower in-front of me that has become famous to the tourist eye. It seems so close, younger me would slap my cheek for not wanting to leave this room, but I just can't. 

I sit in silk pajamas already a sign that my body will not be exiting this room as well, I already put all my clothes into the closet even though were here for less then a week but I like not having to worry about missing an item of clothing while choosing what to wear. 

I look back at the marlboros to my left, lying on the metal railing, it holding a lovely metal basket of flowers hanging over the patio. 

My hands reach for the cancerous sticks until I hear the elevator ding behind me, you have to have a certain key to come into this room so it must be one of them. 

Niall, Louis, Liam and Kimberly already left, I saw them get into a limo not even an hour ago, they left when the sun left our eyesight as well. I know Kimberly wanted me to come but I wouldn't be a joy in a club right now, I don't really feel like I'm ever a joy in a club, I usually stay stiff and unable to enjoy the rhythm of the music without copious amounts of alcohol. I don't think me drinking copious amounts of alcohol is a good idea right now.

My anxiety is at its peak recently.

I turn to see the maker of the noise behind me, his tall figure exiting the elevator and I just turn back to the view before we even make eye contact. The doors to the patio are large and both open, it's not hard to find my location, no matter how large this room is. 

I don't hear his footsteps but I know he's making his way over to me, I can feel it. His quite feet continue until he reaches my peripheral, and that's when I turn, his tall figure standing beside me, but without a word he becomes closer to my height as he seats himself beside me. 

"You didn't go?" I ask, I'm aware he didn't, I can see whoever leaves the hotel from my terrace,  when I saw four heads instead of five head to the limo I knew he stayed, but I am questioning why, I know he likes to drink, and a club seems like the perfect fit for that. 

"Neither did you." He peeps, and as I look over at him and while he answers he doesn't keep eyes off the view in-front of us. 

"Not really in the party mood." I say, eyes moving to the view as well, finding it weird to look at him if his eyes aren't looking at me. 

"I thought you fantasized about this place, I imagined you'd already be out and ready to explore." He releases his thoughts, and my eyebrows raise from it, he's right, I have fantasized about it, ever since I was young enough to write, I dreamt to see this place. Ever since I read about this place, but it was suppose to be magical.

I pick at my hang nail, looking down before I let my lips release my thoughts. 

"I fantasized about experiencing this place under different circumstances." I shrug, there's really no other way to say it, I hate that this is my first time in Paris, I wanted it to be with the love of my life, or at least without the priorities I have entered this country with. 

He stays quiet, and I'm not surprised, what else is there to say to that other then silence. 

But then he surprises me.

"You smoke?" He asks and I sit there with confusion painted across my face till he tilts his head to the smokes infront of me. 

Oh.