A LIFE OUTSIDE OF MINE - On Hold

1

Trina

The French International Airport was crowded as I landed in Lyon, the third largest city in France and join the flood of human bodies coming in and going out. After about ten minutes of pulling my minimal belongings-  a  small box and my handbag and muttering a dozen apologies, I finally make it out pulling on my shades as the full glare of the afternoon sun hit my poor, foreign and formerly unprotected eyes. I sighed and rested on the wall as I looked through the quick travellers' guide while checking for the folded piece of paper I had the address of my temporary apartment for six months provided by the company that organised the raffle draw written on. It was part of the winning prize along with a credit card containing about five thousand dollars. The rest was up to me so I quickly hailed a cab after watching how others around me did it and directed the cab driver to take me to the address on the paper and relaxed as the driver took off. Sleeping off was not possible as I was excited but scared of being taken advantage of. Suddenly, the driver speaks,

'Madame, you not french?' He asks in an awkward french accent.

'I am not. I'm American.' I answer simply trying to hold in my giggle.

'I can see. Madame is pale. Can't be from around here' he smiles kindly.

I can't decide if that's a compliment or not so I just thank him and lean back in my seat, jumping out immediately we get to the apartment.  The driver brings my bags out and I hand him the money practically tripping on my own feet as I run to ring the doorbell. Before you ask, yes I am sharing an apartment. I chose one like this so as to have company and split the rent equally when the time paid for is up. Suddenly, the door is jerked open and I see a shirtless guy in just shorts with a deep scowl on his face and mud brown hair sticking all over the place.  He looked like he just woke up. Before I could open my mouth to speak, he beat me to it, his voice rough and loud, almost intimidating.

'And who the f*ck are you?' Praise God, my house-y speaks English. This is gonna be easier than I- Wait, did he just say f*ck?
I muster a smile and extend my hand for a handshake my eyes casually scanning his abs and biceps. I had mastered that art when I used to work at a motel back home in Baton Rouge. Hmm, he is hot.

'Hi, I am your new housemate. The name is Trina Munroe. Nice to meet you too.'

He ignored my sarcasm as he studied my hand warily before finally taking it after what seemed like an eternity. Did he think I had some sort of skin infection?

' You are? Really?' He looks truly baffled. Then quickly tries to rephrase his reply to sound more polite when I give him a weird face.

'I mean you're just younger than I thought. Much younger than I thought. I'm Francis by the way.' He pauses and watches me for some seconds before talking again.

' You can't be older than seventeen, how did you f**king get your papers done?' I don't really want to tell him but since I need his help, I might as well spill about the avidavit I had done and how utterly clueless I am on what to do next. It didn't hurt that he had the kind of voice that just compelled you to listen. Like screaming confidence!

'Can you at least let me in first?' I say, rolling my eyes. How rude!

He blushed slightly as his eyes widen in realization, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

'I'm sorry, totally skipped my mind. Here, let me help you with those.' He collects my two bags and carry them to a room down the corridor.

'Uh, Francis,  I kinda want to have a bath first, can we continue our conversation later?' I don't wait for a reply as I run off towards the bathroom after pulling out my towel and shouting a thanks over my shoulder feeling so sticky and dirty after my long flight. He seemed tense for some reason but I still found him strangely appealing. Actually,  who wouldn't? I mused as I took a shower.