"Nelly." I cleared my throat, staring up at the midnight sky above us. We were on the balcony of the top floor, entering the next day, every day was one step closer to leaving this wonderland of art and culture.
Two skinny arms hugged my rotund body, "Yes, Heidi?"
There were so many things I wanted to tell him in that very moment. I wanted to not say anything at, I wanted to kiss him, I wanted to just go limp in his embrace, I wanted to spurt a millennium of love sonnets out of my lips, but I was silenced by the feeling. I was warm and summery, our guardian, the moon, was calmly smiling at us once again, like she had been when she witnessed our first kiss through the glass window at the Rouge's apartment. You could still hear the gentle hum of the restless, buzzing music below our feet.
"Will you kiss me?"
"Why?" He poked my side.
His playful, child-like response had caught me completley by surprise, "W-What do you mean, Frog Features?"
"I said, 'Why'."
"But... Why did you say 'why'?"
"Because why not?"
I looked up at him with a confused glance, only to be shoved up against the wall with a giggle and a smooch. I made a shocked, little "Mmmmph!" noise, but quickly melted into the kiss. When the need for oxygen tore us apart, Nelly rested his forehead on my own, "You are very adorable and beautiful, Miss Heidi Bonde."
"You are fascinating, Avenelle-Jérôme Rouge," our hands took control of themselves and decided to interlock, "but strange, never the less."
We were suddenly woken up from our dreamy encounter by a feminine, but harsh accent, "Oi, lovebirds! What are you doing?"
"None of your business, bitch!" A red-faced boy, now stood a meter away from me, retorted.
Nicki crossed her arms, "I'll tell Maman you said that."
"Oh, no, sorry, Nicki, I didn't mean it - please don't!"
"On two conditions."
"Two? It's supposed to be one! Learn your English!"
"Avenelle-Jérôme, listen!"
"Fine, fine, whatever..."
"One: tell me you love me."
"What? No!"
"Well, I'm sure Maman loves me-"
"I love you, my lovely big sister."
"I thought so... Now, as for two:" she looked at the floor, "are you Océane Bleu?"
YOU ARE READING
Vanilla Chaos
Teen FictionNot every girl is a model. Not every boy has a six-pack. Not every girl is perfect. Not every boy is perfect. "People aren't puppets." She's a girl who weighs more than the boy she loves, but he's a boy from France who's been sent to Britain to pay...
