How Paris Changed My Life

12

The shrill sound of the alarm pierced the tranquility of the night, its jarring tone breaking through the peaceful cocoon of sleep that had enveloped us. The clock blinked an unforgiving three hours past midnight. I slowly roused from the depths of slumber, feeling the weight of exhaustion still clinging to me. James, who had been my companion in this cozy, dimly lit room, remained blissfully unaware of the intrusion, his steady breathing a testament to his continued rest.

I reached out and silenced the alarm, the sudden quiet almost disorienting. Gently, I placed my hand on James's cheek and leaned in to press a soft kiss against his lips. "Wake up, sleepyhead," I murmured softly, trying to coax him from his dreamland.

James stirred reluctantly, his voice thick with sleep and a trace of grogginess. "Already? But we're in such a good position now," he protested, his words a mix of sleepiness and contentment.

"I know, but we still need to have dinner with your family," I reminded him gently, hoping to spur him into action. James let out a resigned sigh, his shoulders drooping slightly as he finally began to rouse.

I reluctantly extricated myself from the warm embrace of the sweater I had borrowed and stumbled towards my pants. The dampness of my clothes, still wet from the earlier rain, was uncomfortable. "Ugh, they're still wet," I muttered under my breath.

"Really? If it's too much of a problem, just grab a couple of joggers from my closet. I have plenty," James suggested, his voice muffled as he buried his face in the pillow.

I nodded in acknowledgment and shuffled over to his closet. I rummaged through the array of clothes until I found two pairs of joggers. I tossed one of them at James, who caught it with a sleepy groan. "Put it on. We're already running late," I urged him with a hint of urgency.

James grumbled but complied, pulling on the joggers with a resigned look. "And then?"

"The sooner we get downstairs and eat, the sooner we can come back up," I explained with a cheerful smile, trying to infuse some energy into our sleepy morning.

James, now dressed in his jogging pants, jumped up and began to get ready with more enthusiasm. "What are you waiting for? We're still going to be late," he laughed, clearly enjoying the urgency of the situation.

We hurried downstairs, the scent of delicious food wafting through the house, guiding us to the dining area. The table was already set, and everyone was seated and ready to eat. We took the last available seats, me next to James's grandmother and his sister Emma, and James across from me, wedged between his parents.

"What's for dinner?" James asked his parents, his curiosity evident as he settled into his seat.

"Barbecue," his father responded with a smile.

With that, James's father rose from his seat and made his way to the barbecue to retrieve the meat. Meanwhile, I helped myself to a generous portion of carrots and fries that had been laid out on the table. James, noticing my plate, signaled to Emma to give me more. Before I could respond, she handed me an additional serving of salad.

"It's for your own good," James said with a mischievous grin.

I shot him a playful dirty look, which only made him laugh. I couldn't help but join in his laughter. The father returned with a platter of meat, and I eagerly spotted a juicy steak among the offerings. Steak was, without a doubt, one of my favorite foods, and I savored every bite. The extra salad meant I couldn't indulge in seconds, but I was still satisfied.

As I finished my meal, my thoughts turned to dessert. Just as I was about to ask, I saw James's mother approaching the table with a tray laden with jars of chocolate mousse. My mouth watered at the sight, and suddenly, I felt hunger pangs again. Each of us received two jars of the rich, creamy treat. I devoured mine with enthusiasm, my earlier fullness forgotten. James finished his dessert just as quickly.