THE CITY OF LOVE ❁ PHAN

trois

I don't know how long the plane flight was, but it felt like forever. It was probably around 3 hours, which isn't usually a lot, but it's was so boring. The man I had met dozed beside me, only waking up to sip his coffee and go to the restroom a few times.
I wanted to speak to him more, like he said, everyone has a story but I wanted to learn more about his. He was so blunt about it and open it seemed like he didn't really care much about the whole divorce thing, but anyone who had their partner leave them would be relatively upset.
Why did his wife leave him? Did he have any kids? He looked too young to have children, maybe a baby, something horrible must've happened for the wife to decide that he wasn't good enough and that she would take on the challenge of raising a baby on her own, unless she had someone else.
That was a sad thought, that the man had gotten cheated on right when he thought his life was coming together. Though, if the wife was cheating on him, why did she have a baby with him in the first place if she was just going to leave him? Then maybe it wasn't his baby at all, maybe it was the other man's.
It was like trying to put together a broken puzzle, I wanted to find out more about 'his story' but you can't just outwardly ask 'hey, why did your wife leave you?'. It's rude, and I don't want to get on the bad side of my very first friend in France. Was he my friend?
No, he was my soon to be teacher. But I liked having conversations with him and being around him, he was comforting and acting more like a friend than any I've ever had. So yes, I guess I could consider him my friend if I chose to. Was I his friend?
"Hello! I hope you've enjoyed your flight so far as we're preparing to land! Please make sure your seat belts are fastened and any luggage is in the compartment above your seats, thank you!" a loud, girly voice chirped from the loud speakers.
The man didn't seem like he was waking up any time soon so I politely nudged his shoulder, his wide blue eyes fluttered open in question.
"We're landing soon," I said quietly, going back to staring out the window as I did nearly the entire time.
"Ah, thanks," he adjusted his jacket and sat up more, wiping his eyes and yawning.
The plane eventually landed as the hostess said around fifteen minutes later, allowing all the rowdy business men and annoying children to scuttle out of the pill shaped vessel like bats released from hell.
As I toddled out of the plane and everyone met at the lobby of the airport, the man caught my attention.
"What's your name?" he asked with curiosity flooding his pretty irises. I forgot we hadn't even properly introduced ourselves yet, I always just knew him as 'the man' in my head.
"I'm Dan," I smiled.
"Phil."

-

"Oh, fuck," I sighed, my suitcase hanging loosely in my grip as I stared at the dark sky, the moon and stars shining happily on the beautiful city around me.
"Where're you gonna stay tonight?" Phil stepped beside me, his head tipped for him to glance at me cheekily.
"I can find a motel somewhere," I mumbled, beginning to walk away, but the ebony haired man followed close behind.
"And how the hell are you going to pull that off when you can't even speak French?"
"I can manage," I rolled my eyes but really, I was panicking. How could I even ask for a room when I don't know the common language here? I almost regretted coming to this place in the first place, but I stopped myself. I was here for a reason.
"You can stay at my place if you'd like, I have a pretty comfortable couch," I turned to him, his offer catching my desperate attention.
"You live in England, how do you have a house here?" I scoffed, not believing the man as the moonlight danced upon his pale skin, lighting up his features, but the darkness of the night also darkening them, causing shadows to become more prominent and the sharp edges of his features seem like they could cut you if you got too close.
"Have you forgotten? France is my second home," he grinned, "Are you accepting?"
I sighed, and nodded, I had no other choice. If he was actually an insane murderer, so be it. I had nearly nothing to live for but the constant thought that it's going to get better and I'm doing alright. I couldn't care about my safety, only my survival. And apparently, Phil cared just enough too.

-

The walk wasn't long since half way there Phil caught a taxi; I offered to pay for it but he respectfully declined and shoved me out before I could protest. He seemed very modest and adulty, which he was an adult but at the same time he seemed to have a more childish side, a teasing immature underside that you had to dig to get to. He was always uptight and fast moving, I almost couldn't keep up with him.
We stepped out in front of a tall, expensive looking building with swinging glass doors and street lamps that lit up the front elegantly. Through the translucent doors you could see a lobby with a couple people chatting and sitting with bags of their belongings. It looked like something out of a television show.
"Holy shit, how much money do you have?" I gasped, raking my eyes over the large room and people harboring in it.
"Daniel, it's rude to speak about your wealth," he chuckled, spinning a ring of a couple keys on his finger, then poked my arm to bring me out of my shocked trance.
We tumbled into the elevator and eventually he was creaking the door open to reveal a lavish living room connected to a kitchen, a hallway peeking in from the other wall as it was dimly lit from the kitchen.
He nudged me in, laughing at my in-awe state and set his things on the large marble counter across the room.
"You can set your luggage anywhere, if you need anything I'll be down the hall, along with the bathroom," he said, his accent curving his words and peaking my interest. Different accents always surprised me and drew me in, Phil's was no exception. It was fun to listen to them speak in a different way than you, seeing how they pronounce certain words and put together sentences.
"Thank you, I'll repay you somehow eventually," I smiled sweetly, brushing my hand through my messy and tangled locks.
"No need."
And with that, he was gone.

A/N

kms bye