Vanilla Chaos

Chapter 9: Twin Coffee Cups

Some who have been to the city of New York say that the lights were so bright they were blinding, even at a late hour like this one. Paris was quite the contrary, the buildings glowed a warm honey colour against a canvas of infinite stars. The Rouge Penthouse Suite's exterior was the same vanilla colour as the rest of the city, the same colour that bothered my dear Nelly deeply. I couldn't quite grasp what he found so hideous about a single colour - I found it oddly charming.

But I supposed that was just Nelly, he had slowly snook into my life but made a gargantuan impact - like a hurricane gradually picking up speed but being able to tear down buildings when it reached its peak. He used to smile at me, sat all alone at the back of the classroom. He was perplexing and beautiful, he didn't have any friends, yet at the same time it seemed like he didn't want any. When his shining eyes met with my own murky ones, and he realised I was staring at him, he would simply chuckle to himself and smirk.

He was an open book, but the pages were written in another language, and I only understood some of it.

"Heidi Bonde! Heidi Bonde, you're so cute and English!" The thickest accent of them all. Marseille was a woman in her late-fourties, she had a kind, wrinkly face and upon inspection, her eyes were the same lovely green as her daughter's, the colour of the Amazon rainforest from a bird's eye view. Her choppy red bob was adorned with grey streaks, and her slightly coffee-stained smile was so endearing, it easily passed the test of time. Her English was bad and sometimes it was hard to make out what she was saying, but there was just something about her which made me feel comfortable and at home.

"Well, thank-you a lot, Madame." I awkwardly scratched the back of my head.

"Madame? Oh no, call me Marseille! Come in, come in! It's cold out here!" She talked quickly, which wasn't really a good thing, she was lovely and all, but clearly wasn't very used to speaking English, "Your hair is nice! I like the red. Ah yes, Dominique, make our guest and your brother something to drink!"

I chuckled, "Wow, thank-you, again, Marseille. But there's really no need to fuss over me."

"Oh, I'm really sorry, but what do you mean when you say 'fuss'?"

"It means you're making a big deal out of her, Maman." Nelly grabbed my black suitcase, as well as his own huge yellow one, and opened the door to the lobby. "Come on, sweetie, I'm tired and I want some coffee."

Marseille and I both followed him, "You and your coffee, Nelly! What am I going to do with you?" I giggled. The lobby had pastel blue wallpaper, all swirly and fancy. Even the lift had jazz music playing and matte red walls! I knew the Rouge family were rich, but these apartments were something else.

"Welcome to my home, Heidi Bonde."

Modern. Cozy. Comfortable. "It's gorgeous, I'm at a loss for words!"

"Aw, merci, Heidi. I'm so glad you like it!" Marseille locked the door and her son dropped the bags in front of it.

The living space was very open-plan, you could say there was a window wherever it was possible, but that just showed off the picturesque Parisian skyline, complete with the Eiffel Tower. The colour scheme was a perfect and perfectly ironic blend of cream and white. But nothing was the dreaded vanilla colour, thank heavens.

The tall blonde with fglasses was watching the late night news, which I couldn't understand a word of, but he paused it and got off the sofa and approach me, with the same crooked smile shown in the picture on Nelly's phone. He honestly didn't look a day over thirty five, he was probably younger than Marseille, but he would have at least been forty six. He had glasses like his son, the same blue eyes as his son, and was tall like his son. His strawberry blonde hair fell to the sharp apple of his neck, he had a stubbly beard, and he was still dressed in a formal shirt and black pants from his recent visit to the big apple. "Bonjour, so you are the Heidi Bonde I've heard so much about? I have to say, you are as pretty as Avenelle-Jérôme says. Nice to meet you and welcome to France, please call me François."

I smiled and was about to reply, when I was interrupted by Nicki, who was doing something in the kitchen, "Nelly, Heidi, come here!" The only brunette of the family and myself quickly travelled to the kitchen. There were two twin coffee cups on the table, a black one with a white heart and a white one with a black heart. "Sorry, Heidi, I didn't know what you like, so I made you a hot chocolate."

"It's alright, and thank-you, it looks delicious!" I wasn't lying. The white cup had marshmallows, squirty cream and even a flakey chocolate bar poking out of the side - the black cup had nothing but dark pure coffee in it.

"I'm the best at making drinks, I used to work at a coffee shop when I was a teen." Nicki yawned handing Nelly and me our cups, "Feel free to take them upstairs, it's really late, already. Be careful, your room is next to my little brother's!"

"Nicki!" Nelly took in a lot of coffee, "I'm a gentleman, I really care about Heidi, okay?"

"Nelly-Jerry, don't be like that, I was just joking!"

But it was too late, a grumpy, adorable and overtired French boy was clutching his coffee cup for dear life and making his way up the stairs. From the looks of it, there were two bedrooms upstairs and two downstairs. I grabbed my bag and following him up with a shouted, "Nice to meet you all, goodnight!" I could hear Marseille and François laughing as I reached the top of the stairs.

Three doors were all the same deep mahogany, the walls were painted a chic silver, and the stairs and floor were the colour of buttercream icing on a cupcake. The lights were already on. "Nelly," I placed my suitcase on the ground and my hot chocolate on a white end table, "Why did you do that?"

"Sorry," his coffee was placed down next to my drink, "I'm just a little tired. I think I'm going to go to sleep."

I swallowed a lump in my throat, "Oh, yeah, me too. It's gorgeous here."

"Isn't it just?"

I was well aware of the fact I was turning bright red, but regardless I wanted one last hug, I knew I didn't need to ask. He was so God damn tall and lanky, I stood on my tip toes in my trainers and grabbed him. He immediately hugged me back. "Goodnight, Nelly."

"Heidi, I need to ask you something."

"What is it?"

I let go of him and stood back. He looked at the floor with the slightest tinge of pink on his cheeks. Adorable. "I wanted to wait until we were somewhere special to tell you this, like the Eiffel Tower or Montparnasse, but I'm inpatient. Can I call you my girlfriend?"

"How could I say no to you, Nelly?"

"I speak much better English than the rest of my family, but even I'll have to admit that what you just said was confusing."

"It's a yes, Avenelle-Jérôme."

"Wait, what? Really?" He hugged me again, warm and soft, "But aren't you mad at me for not making this moment more special?"

"You're so cliché," I laughed, "Of course I'm not mad, I couldn't be happier."

"Me neither." He kept his arms around my waist, but looked me in the eyes. Those were some pretty eyes. Misty, mysterious, and unrealistically beautiful. Two sapphire gems, which showed a rainbow on a perfectly rainy day. "I love you."

"I love you, too." What happened next, I'm still not entirely sure actually happened. The moonlight from the single corridor window showed my love's pale face in a God-like glow, against a background of regal silver and heavenly white, it was like I was in a dream. I stood on my tip-toes and inched closer to him, I could feel the warmth radiating off of him like the sun. My short and chubby arms found their way around him, so we were as close as possible. Then finally, our lips touched. It was in slow motion, and I pictured it in my head as a black and white film. Two teenagers, hopelessly in love, kissing in an apartment in the city of romance.

It was soft and sweet, and didn't last longer than half a minute at most. But neither of us had ever kissed before, Nelly didn't need to worry about making things special, they all ready were. I felt like I was walking on air, he didn't have to try, he was already so perfect, and I loved him with all my heart.

His eyes fluttered open, he was the colour of a strawberry and his hair was all over the place. He grabbed the coffee cup with the white heart, pecked me on the cheek, and disappeared through the third door, "Goodnight, beautiful. Your room is the first one, the middle is the lavatory. Sweet dreams, my love."

My love, he had called me a lot of things. But never that, and I liked it.