A New Beginning

La Vie en Rose

So, I'm French, and I kinda have an obsession with learning stuff about my family and their culture. La Vie en Rose, just in case you didn't know, is a French song sung by Edith Piaf. It means "Life in Pink". So, I decided to call the restaurant they eat dinner in: La Vie en Rose.

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Mitch POV

We took a flight early this morning from Tokyo to Paris, where it is currently about 8 in the evening. Scott and I took to the streets to shop and have a look around. Paris is such a beautiful place, and Scott pulls me aside into a fancy restaurant, where a waiter greets us and gets a table for us. There is a vase of roses and a lit candle between us and he comes back with napkins and silverware to set the table. I look around the room briefly to see that everything is a beautiful rose gold color, and even the chairs are a glorious pink. I am in awe at the sight of everything.

"Bonsoir. Ça va?" He begins. I pause and look over to Scott, who replies.

"Ça va. Puis-je voir la carte des vins et le menu?" He says. I raise my eyebrows, impressed.

"Oui, je serai tout de suite, Monsieur," the waiter responds, and leaves.

"What the hell just happened?" I ask Scott.

"Well," he begins. "He asked basically how we are, so I told him we are fine. Then I asked him for the wine list and the menu, and he said he will bring it right away," Scott rearranges his silverware on the table and changes his watch on his wrist to read 8 o'clock.

"Wow, how impressive. How did you learn that?" I ask, and he finishes setting his watch.

"I don't just listen to music when we travel," he says, looking up at me and smirking. I smile back at him. The waiter comes back with two menus, one for me and one for him. He stops when he takes a good look at me and he takes his hand in mine. Damn, is he cute. He has brown hair that is slicked back away from his face and sweet hazel eyes that glimmer upon my reaching them. I smile sweetly and he blush as he kisses my hand. His light facial hair brush against my hand as his lips leave my skin. He begins to speak.

"Excusez-moi, Monsieur, mais j'ai simplement ne pourrais pas m'en empêcher. Je vous demande pardon, mais vous êtes très belle, et je ne pouvais pas résister à l'envie de baiser la main." These words flow out of his mouth and I am in awe.

I think he called me beautiful! Or handsome, or something like that! Oh god, how do I respond? How do I say 'It's fine'? I know this. I know this. What is it...oh yes! I heard someone say this today!

"C'est bien!" I respond, happy with myself. I lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek.

Nothing wrong with a little jealousy.

The cute waiter can't even respond. He smiles from ear to ear, then finally mumbles something I can't understand.

"Pardon?" I say. He blushes and repeats.

"Quel est votre nom?" He says.

What is your name? Right?

"Je m'appelle Mitch. Et vous?"

"C'est un beau nom. Je m'appelle François," he purrs. I'm beginning to really like this man. I'm very glad I've been picking up some French and even remember some from learning in high school. I'm also very glad he's keeping our conversation minimal. I smile up at him and he smiles back. I hear Scott intentionally clear his throat in the background, breaking François from my glance. He stands fully up and looks back at Scott, then back at me.

"Oh! Non, Je suis vraiment désolé! Pardon, Monsieur." François mutters to Scott, realizing we are together, probably. He asks us what we would like then rushes off to fetch it for us. I look over at Scott, and he looks a little flustered.