There's a certain charm to Paris during the day, and maybe that's because of everything you hear about the city. It's calm, quiet, and pleasant, almost like there's something in the atmosphere that has you wanting to explore every corner.
And as for the night...well, I don't even want to go into the restaurant. I can look past the cold cutting past my coat. I can look past how my heels terrorize my feet with every step, but I can't stop looking around on this small backstreet.
So many small shops decorate the curving road, either joining the rally of closed doors, welcoming last-minute patrons, or opening to harbor wandering souls just like Ushijima and I. Even with the throbbing, the cobblestone street beneath my feet just feels right. Each step speaks to me, singing a song that resonates with my soul. Something about this city is pure nostalgia—but I've never seen a day here until today.
