Minutes drag on, but they pass.
I excuse myself to go out for a smoke, even though I've never touched a cigarette.
All because I saw this guy go out alone on the terrace, probably for some fresh air. A guy whose name I still hadn't had the decency to ask.
Too impressed?
Maybe.
Probably.
YOU ARE READING
Achille's smile
No FicciónTranslated from French A love story told by a girl on her university group on Facebook
