Violet Becket looked around in wonder. No matter how many times she pinched herself, she still couldn't believe she was really here. Paris, France, the city of love, la ville de l'amour. This was it, this was what she had been preparing for for so long! This was why she had spent so many grueling hours practicing la langue de l'amour. So many months of writing and editing her writings to perfect her grammar. Years of embarrassing mispronunciations of words before her French teacher. Now that she was certifiably fluent in a second language, she was finally ready to be apart of her school's transfer program. She had taken the challenge to finish her last two years of high school in Paris, France.
Currently, she was waiting for her host family to pick her up from the airport. The usually confident noirette nervously clutched the handle of her suitcase. She hoped they would find her. Though she was old for her peer group, already seventeen before her junior year, she wasn't the exactly the tallest. Contrary to many people's beliefs due to the way she held herself, back straight and head high with an air of confidence, she barely reached the 5'3 mark. Gritting her teeth, Violet shook her head and straightened up. This is what she had worked so hard for! This is what she signed up for, to be out of her comfort zone and explore the world! No use getting cold feet now.
"Violet? Oui, elle a raison là-bas, le court par la fenêtre." She perked up at the sound of her name. Though slightly peeved by being referred to as 'the short one', the feeling soon dissipated at the sight of two adults and a young girl approaching. She sent them a slightly nervous smile and a small wave.
"Salut. Je suis Violet." The couple, a small chinese woman and a large French man, smiled sweetly at her.
"It's wonderful to meet you, Violet!" the woman greeted, "Je suis Sabine et voici mon mari, Tom. Celui dérobant est Marionette, notre fille." Violet smiled at the embarrassed girl who had just been called out by her mother. She cleared her throat and waved nervously.
"Salut." Violet soon learned much about her host family, as Sabine was quite the chatterbox. She found herself soon at ease as the chinese woman relayed countless tales of the family's misadventures on the drive to their house, which Violet learned was above their bakery. She looked to the girl sitting beside her in the car. Marionette, was it? Deciding to break the ice, Violet smiled at her.
"So, Marionette, what grade are you in?" The blue eyed girl turned to her with a small smile.
"Oh, eleventh this year." Violet smiled at that.
"Oh cool! So am I." Marionette's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"Oh, really? I thought you were younger. You know, because of your height." Suddenly realizing what she had just said, the French-Chinese girl quickly began to freak out. "I-I mean, not that being short is a bad thing! I just- that is... um, you don't seem so old! Ah! No, that came out wrong!" Violet couldn't help but laugh good naturedly at the spazzing girl beside her.
"Relax, Marionette. It's alright. I know what you meant." Marionette seemed to calm a bit, but still looked somewhat flustered. She cleared her throat self consciously.
"S-so, what do you want to do after high school?" Violet perked up.
"Oh! I want to be a costume makeup artist. You know, for movie and plays." Marionette smiled at that.
"Really? That sounds fun!" Violet grinned.
"Yes! To me, makeup is an artform. An expression of self, in a way, and a person is a walking canvas. Living, breathing art!" Marionette's smile grew.
"That's beautiful. You know, I've never thought about it that way. I'd like to become a fashion designer. That's kind of like living art too, isn't it?" Violet's face softened, her gaze thoughtful.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Romance
Fanfic(Because smol tomato art son needs love.) Now entering his junior year of high school, Nathanaël has been over his crush on Marionette for a while. But that doesn't mean he isn't lonely. When an American transfer student captures his heart, he fears...
