An Artist's Impression

Chapter 3 ~ Tea Shop

Zayn's POV

I sipped on my tea and flipped through my brochure, this time looking through the other pages in case there were some other key details I was blatantly missing. 

All I had found was that most of his paintings were around Paris. Apparently, Steven was deeply fond of the French capital. Racking my brain for ideas or clues, I took another chug of my tea and my eyes narrowed down onto the paper.

I was going to have to do something. Sitting in a cute, little tea shop wasn't going to help me find this girl but I could start tomorrow. I nodded to myself, I would start searching properly tomorrow.

I would go out like Anne said, explore and really look, rather then staring at a piece of paper I had been staring at for the past few days.

That's when I got the idea. I was going to go to all these places mentioned in Paris and ask around. See if they recognised this area where the painting of me and this girl was taken and see whether I could get closer to finding her.

I smiled to myself and munched on my last macaroon. If there was one thing I missed about this place, it was the macaroons. Well, actually the food in general.

How the French were so good at this was remarkable but extremely good!

"Um, excusez-moi monsieur."

My head jerked upwards and I came face to face with a girl around my age. "Er, oui?" I said, trying to hide my thick English accent.

She smirked and replied," british then?" Her French accent was enticing yet I could tell that she was almost fluent in English. "Er, yeah I am," I said raising my eyebrows wondering why she was here talking to me.

She shook her head and smiled shyly," sorry monsieur but did you see a phone here?" I shook my head," sorry, I haven't."

She sighed and opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a call coming from the door of the tea shop.

"Amrita!"

She turned but then faced me again, straightening up. "Thank you monsieur, sorry to interrupt," she said. "Don't worry, it's--" But she had already gone, only the reminiscing sound of the bell signalling that she had left the shop to be heard.

I sighed and sat back in my chair. Amrita. It was a beautiful name but didn't sound French at all. Heck, she didn't look French. She looked slightly Indian, she had definitely inherited the beautiful Indian gene.

But that wasn't the point. The girl in this painting was the point and if I wanted to find her, I was going to have to concentrate. Which meant I couldn't spend time chatting to girls or thinking about them.

So I had to stop.

Now.

Breathing out, I packed up my things and left the tea shop however not leaving without giving a small tip and making a mental note to remember this little place. It was a great place to think and if it attracted women like Amrita there, what were the faults?

I breathed in the French air and walked down the streets, passing a small park where many people were walking dogs, playing games and taking loved ones on a walk.

My smile faltered slightly as I saw a happy couple share a kiss basically right in front of me. It wasn't that I knew either of them or that I may have found it slightly gross but it was the ache in my chest as the thought of Kaitlyn came into my head.

My ex. And before everything gets to cliché, no, I didn't still love her and no, neither of us cheated on each other. We just knew that we weren't right together.

I had been going through a rough patch and she couldn't deal with it. I couldn't blame her, I was a right mess and basically still was. If you didn't think that going to France looking for a girl you didn't know was crazy and weird (not to mention stalkerish) then I think you are crazy.

But it still hurt. We were still friends although we didn't see each other very often. It just hurt that I hadn't found anyone since. It had been almost 6 months and I hadn't found a single girl.

Anyway, it wasn't time to be moping around and feeling sorry for myself. It was the time however to start the search once more.

Seeing as I was passing a few people on benches, I stopped and made use of the time I had .

"Excusez-moi monsieur?" I asked, remembering the way Amrita had asked me. "Oui," said the man opposite me gruffly.

"Erm, 'ave you, er, seen this femme?" I asked, trying to dig deep and remember all that I learnt from school. The man took the piece of paper and studied it, his eyes flicking backwards and forwards continuously before handing me back the piece of paper.

"Je l'ai vue là-bas, par la boutique avec quelques amis du côté droit. Vous êtes sorti de lui," he rambled. He looked back at me and I stared back at him blankly.  

Did he not understand that I was clearly not French?

"Er," I paused, wondering how I was surprised to reply to that sentence. "Pardon monsieur?" I asked. He heaved a great sigh but did not once think that I was clearly completely unable to speak other than about 5 words in French, needless to say understand more than 5 words.

Idiot.

He just ended up repeating what he said, looking at me as if I was a complete nutter. I gave him another blank stare and then decided that I definitely was not going to get anything out of it.

"Oui, merci monsieur," I muttered and spun round on my heel to head home. If this was as much help I was going to get, I was going to be in serious trouble.

-

After about 10 or so minutes, I arrived back at the hotel and pushed open the door. 

"Ah, bonjour monsieur Zayn. How was your day?" asked Anne happily, placing another one of her French magazines down and greeting me kindly.

I shrugged, still annoyed at that annoying French man who had no common sense in him. Anne frowned and came out, behind the desk, motioning me to sit down at the little seating area at the front.

"What is wrong Zayn?" she asked. "Nothing, I was just slightly annoyed as I made no utter progress today. I spoke to a girl who was looking for her phone and I spoke to a man who was oblivious that I had no idea how to speak French," I muttered.

Anne let out a small chuckle before stifling it quickly as she met my eyes. "What was this monsieur saying?" she asked curiously. I sighed and repeated a few words I had managed to pick up from this annoying, little monsieur.

Her eyes widened and then she shook her head. "What is it Anne?" I asked, straightening up in my seat.   

"He seemed to be saying something about a shop with some friends? And that you erm, had just come right out of it or maybe the shop next to it. Obviously, I don't know if it was the same shop, only hearing a few words means that---"

"We were in the same shop?" I was shocked, startled. How had I been so close as to miss her like that?

"Well, I don't know. I mean, those weren't all the words he used right?" Anne asked cautiously. "No but, what if you are right? I let her slip through my fingers!" I said angrily, running my hands through my hair.

Why was I so stupid and unobservant?

"Monsieur Zayn, don't let this anger you. At least now you know that she is nearby. She is close," reassured Anne. I nodded but the only thought that flashed into my mind was:

For how long?

*~*~*~*

So, we have met Amrita, the main girl in this :D Really hope you like the chapter, I know it was kinda crap but it is quite necessary.

Anyways, if you liked this chapter, please VOTE and drop a comment below!!

Love you all,

M x